Soon after the close of the siege just described, I received, in conjunction with others who were similarly entitled, my share of prizemoney on account of the property captured some years before at Copenhagen. Some arrears of pay were also supplied by the hands of Major Wells. A little good advice was kindly subjoined. We were exhorted to save our money, to avoid excesses, and spend with economy. But alas! how hardly shall they that are rich keep in the path of moderation and humility. The cash burnt in our pockets. The intimations so civilly given were altogether wasted, and might as well have been addressed to our knapsacks. No sooner did opportunity offer, than the wine-houses washed away, not only all our good advices, but the whole of our hard-earned pittance so recently distributed. When a man is determined to indulge in liquor, he is almost sure to find some justification for it. It is commonly of Dean Aldrich’s sort, more wordy than wise:

I am sorry to admit that I was carried away with the torrent of sensuality which at this time set in with a kind of powerful flood-tide. Every good impression was well-nigh obliterated from my mind. The nice mental perception of right and wrong which I retained as a valued relic, resulting from my mother’s advices, was nearly blunted; and my subsequent experience has shown me that when once the barrier between vice and virtue is weakened, or is dimly visible, great danger is at hand. Among other habits unhappily contracted was that of profane swearing; which, connected with singing licentious ballads and free living, completed the depravity of my conduct. And yet I was more proud of my religion than ever; and had any one called in question the infallibility of the Pope, I should have instantly challenged him to fight for the insolence of the thing.

It has been observed by an acute military writer, that the talents of Lord Wellington rose with his difficulties; and notwithstanding the serious impediments which obstructed the measure, he resolved to subdue the important fortress of Badajos. He accordingly proceeded to Elvas, which he reached on the 11th of March, and arrangements were immediately commenced for the formal investment of the place. Badajos is a regularly fortified town. The garrison, composed of French, Hessian, and Spanish troops, was now near five thousand strong. Phillipon, the governor, had greatly improved the defences of the place. A second ditch had been dug at the bottom of the great one, which was also in some parts filled with water. The gorge of the Pardaleras was inclosed, and that outwork was connected with the body of the place, from whence powerful batteries looked into it. The three western fronts were mined; and on the east, the arch of the bridge behind the San Roque was built up to form an inundation two hundred yards wide, which greatly contracted the space by which the place could be approached by troops; and all the inhabitants had been compelled, on pain of being sent away, to lay up food for three months.

The plan fixed upon by the besiegers was, to attack the bastion of Trinidad, because the counter-guard there being unfinished the bastion could be battered from the hill on which Picurina stood. Of nine hundred gunners present, three hundred were British, the rest Portuguese; and there were one hundred and fifty sappers, volunteers from the third division. In the night of the 17th eighteen hundred men broke ground one hundred and sixty yards from the Picurina. A tempest, which happened to arise, stifled the sound of their pickaxes; and though the work was commenced late, a communication four thousand feet in length was formed, and a parallel of six hundred yards, three feet deep and three feet six inches wide, was opened. However, when the day broke, the Picurina was reinforced; and a sharp musketry, interspersed with discharges from some field-pieces, aided by heavy guns from the body of the place, was directed on the trenches. On the 19th Lord Wellington, having secret intelligence that a sally was intended, ordered the guards to be reinforced. Nevertheless, at one o’clock, some cavalry came out by the Talavera gate; and thirteen hundred infantry, under the command of General Vielland, filed unobserved into the communication between the Picurina and the San Roque. These troops jumping out, at once drove the workmen before them, and began to demolish the parallel. Previous to this outbreak the French cavalry, forming two parties, had commenced a sham-fight on the right of the parallel; and the smaller party pretending to fly, and answering Portuguese to the challenge of the piquets, were allowed to pass. Elated by the success of their stratagem, they then galloped to the engineer’s park, which was a thousand yards in the rear of the trenches, and there cut down some men—not many, for succour soon came; and meanwhile the troops at the parallel having rallied upon the relief which had just arrived, beat the enemy’s infantry back, even into the castle. In this hot fight the besieged lost above three hundred men and officers, the besiegers only one hundred and fifty; but Colonel Fletcher, the chief engineer, was badly wounded and several hundred trenching-tools were carried off,—for Phillipon had promised a high price for each. Yet this turned out ill; for the soldiers, instead of pursuing briskly, dispersed to gather the tools. After the action, a squadron of dragoons and six field-pieces were placed as a reserve-guard behind St. Michael, and a signal-post was established on the Sierra de Venta to give notice of the enemy’s motions.

On the 24th, the fifth division invested the place, on the right bank of the Guadiana; the weather was fine, and the batteries were heavily armed. The next day at eleven o’clock, the pieces opened, but were so vigorously opposed, that one howitzer was dismounted and several artillery and engineer officers were killed. Nevertheless, the San Roque was silenced; and the garrison of the Picurina was so galled by the marksmen in the trenches, that no man dared look over the parapet. Hence, as the external appearance of the fort did not indicate much strength, General Kempt was charged to assault it in the night. The outward seeming of the Picurina was, however, fallacious; the fort was very strong; the fronts were well covered by the glacis, the flanks were deep, and the rampart, fourteen feet perpendicular from the bottom of the ditch, was guarded with thick slanting pales above; and from thence to the top there were sixteen feet of an earthen slope. Seven guns were mounted on the works, the entrance to which, by the rear, was protected with three rows of thick paling; the garrison was above two hundred strong, and every man had two muskets. The top of the rampart was furnished with loaded shells, to push over; and finally some small mines and a loop-holed gallery under the counterscarp intended to take the assailants in rear were begun, but not finished. Five hundred men of the third division being assembled for the attack, General Kempt ordered two hundred, under Major Rudd, to turn the fort on the left; an equal force, under Major Shaw, to turn the fort by the right; and one hundred from each of these bodies were directed to enter the communication with San Roque, and intercept any succours coming from the town. The engineers, with twenty-four sappers bearing hatchets and ladders, guided these columns; and fifty men of the light division, provided also with axes, were to move out of the trenches at the moment of attack.

The night was fine, the arrangements clearly and skilfully made, and about nine o’clock the two flanking bodies moved forward. The distance was short, and the troops quickly closed on the fort, which, black and silent before, now seemed one mass of fire; then the assailants, running up to the palisades in the rear, endeavoured to break through; and when the destructive musketry of the French and the thickness of the pales rendered their efforts useless, they turned against the faces of the work, and strove to break in there; but the depth of the ditch, and the slanting stakes at the top of the brick-work, baffled them.

At this time, the enemy firing incessantly and dangerously, the crisis appeared imminent; and Kempt sent the reserve headlong against the front; thus the fight was continued strongly; the carnage became terrible, and a battalion coming out from the town to succour the fort, was encountered and beaten by the party on the communication. The guns of Badajos and of the castle now opened; the guard of the trenches replied with musketry, rockets were thrown up by the besieged, and the shrill sound of alarm-bells, mixing with the shouts of the combatants, increased the tumult. Still the Picurina sent out streams of fire, by the light of which dark figures were seen furiously struggling on the ramparts; for Powis first escaladed the place in front, where the artillery had beaten down the pales; and the other assailants had thrown their ladders on the flanks, in the manner of bridges, from the brink of the ditch to the slanting stakes; and all were fighting hand to hand with the enemy. Meanwhile the axe-men of the light division, compassing the fort like prowling wolves, discovered the gate, and hewing it down broke in by the rear. Yet the struggle continued; Powis, Holloway, Gips, and Oats, of the 88th, fell wounded in or beyond the rampart. Nixon, of the 52nd, was shot, two yards within the gate; Shaw, Rudd, and nearly all the other officers had fallen outside; and it was not until nearly half the garrison were killed, that Gasper Thiery, the commandant, and eighty-six men surrendered, while a few rushing out of the gate endeavoured to cross the bridge and were drowned. This intrepid assault, which lasted an hour, cost four officers and fifty men killed, fifteen officers and two hundred and fifty men wounded; and so vehement was the fight throughout that the garrison either forgot or had not time to roll over the shells and combustibles arranged on the rampart.

On the 3rd of April it was evident that the crisis of the siege drew nigh. The British guns being all turned against the curtain, the masonry crumbled rapidly away; in two hours a yawning breach appeared, and Lord Wellington, having examined the points of attack in person, gave the order for assault. The soldiers then made themselves ready for the approaching combat, one of the most fierce and terrible ever exhibited in the annals of war. Posterity will find it difficult to credit the tale, but many who are still alive know that it is true. The British General was so sensible of Phillipon’s firmness, and of the courage of his garrison, that he spared them the affront of a summons; yet, seeing the breach strongly entrenched, and the enemy’s flank fire still powerful, he would not in this dread crisis trust his fortune to a single effort. Eighteen thousand soldiers burned for the signal of attack, and as he was unwilling to lose the services of any, to each division he gave a task such as few generals would have the hardihood to contemplate. Nor was the enemy idle; for while it was yet twilight some French cavalry issued from the Pardaleras, escorting an officer, who endeavoured to look into the trenches, with a view to ascertain if an assault was intended: but the piquet on that side jumped up, and, firing as it ran, drove him and his escort back into the works. The darkness then fell, and the troops awaited the signal.

With respect to myself, I could not help largely sharing in the general desire to advance; indeed, our duty in the trenches had been so severe that, in spite of approaching peril, we had no objection to move. I had been stationed in battery number six, and was frequently exposed to a terrific raking fire from the besieged. Directions, I remember, were given on one occasion to fill a quantity of sand-bags. Poor Woollams, a private in the regiment, and myself, worked together; he held the mouth of the sack open, while I threw in the sand with a shovel; before we had been long thus engaged, a shell struck his knee, and in an instant severed his leg, which dropped on the ground; he fell backwards, while the shell, which lodged in the earth, at a few feet distance had burnt nearly to the exploding point. Aware of the approaching danger, I threw myself on my face; and I had scarcely taken the precaution when the shell burst with ruinous effect. Stones, dust, and fragments of timber were scattered in all directions; and among other substances whirled into the air, was the lost limb of my comrade. I knew it while descending by the pattern of the gaiter. As the leg was useless, I ran to the sufferer to whom it had belonged, tied my coat-strap round his thigh to check the effusion of blood, and, after placing him in a blanket, carried him to the nearest hospital, where surgical assistance was promptly afforded. On my return to the trenches, another friend was borne off, greatly hurt; a comrade was loading his musket, and while the ramrod was in the barrel, the piece was accidentally discharged. The ramrod pierced through his body, and so firmly was the worm-end fixed near the backbone, that the strongest man among us was unable to move it. He was conveyed to the infirmary, and things went on as usual, as no calamity of this sort could be allowed to interfere with the duties then before us. The fine young man, whose case is just recorded, recovered from the wound, but was, I believe, eventually drowned in a river near Salamanca. At another time, during a violent cannonade from the besieged, I had been conversing with a man on the trenches, when our discussion was closed by a round shot, which took away the head of the respondent, as smoothly as if it had been sabred. I was also informed that another of our men had been killed merely by the wind of a cannon-bullet; but as I did not witness the circumstance, I will not vouch for its correctness. Not long before the storming parties were selected, a sad instance of the fatal effects of intemperance occurred. One of our company was ordered out on duty, but, being in a state of inebriety, durst not appear. We afterwards missed him altogether; and some time after we found his lifeless body coiled up in a blanket, in a crouching posture, behind one of the tents. Our opinion was that he had crept there for secrecy, and by some means or other was smothered. All that remained in our power we did, which was to consign his remains to the parent earth. The day on which we proceeded to Badajos I received a letter from my brother in Ireland, in which he recommended me to an officer named Carey. After some search I found the gentleman, who received me with genuine kindness, and promised his future patronage when the town was taken; an engagement on which, from his frank and generous bearing, I at once felt it was safe to depend. But, Lord, what is man, or the best of men? My newly-acquired friend fell while leading on his men; so that our brief intercourse was the first and last which this world afforded.

We were now selected and classified for the actual assault. The difficulty was, not to procure men enough, but how to refuse applications, for all were ready. Nor were these offers founded in ignorance of the nature of the expected service; the candidates were not such novices. The watch-word of Nelson was not forgotten,—‘England expects every man to do his duty;’ and the resolution which everywhere prevailed was entered into with a thorough consciousness that life was then scarcely worth an hour’s purchase. And yet every countenance was bright, for every heart was firm; and it was clear that the elevation and strength of mind so universally prevalent was the effect of principle, well considered and approved. Indeed, there was no stimulus at hand to produce superficial excitement; no drops of Scheidam to generate Dutch courage; the men were kept in the utmost silence and order. It is true here and there a soldier might be perceived stealing from the trenches with a little refreshment in his canteen for the friend with whom he was to part; and in return, more than one message, the last to be delivered on earth, was sent from many a brave man to mother, wife, or some other valued relative, with directions that if killed the knapsack of a certain number, with its contents, should be duly forwarded. The night was dry, but clouded, the air thick with watery exhalations from the river, the ramparts and the trenches were unusually still, yet a low murmur pervaded the latter, and in the former, lights were seen to flit here and there; while the deep voices of the sentinels at times proclaimed that all was well in Badajos. The French confiding in Phillipon’s direful skill, watched from their lofty station the approach of enemies whom they had twice before baffled, and now hoped to drive a third time, blasted and ruined, from the walls.

At ten o’clock the whole of the works were to have been simultaneously assailed, and it was hoped that the strength of the enemy would shrivel before this fiery girdle; but the disappointments of war are many. An unforeseen accident delayed the attack of the fifth division; and a lighted carcass thrown from the castle falling close to where the men of the third division were drawn up, discovered their array, and obliged them to anticipate the signal by half an hour. Then, everything being suddenly disturbed, the double columns of the fourth and light divisions also moved silently and swiftly against the breaches; and the guard of the trenches, rushing forward with a shout, encompassed the San Roque with fire, and broke in so violently that scarcely any resistance was made. General Kempt passed the Rivellas in single files by a narrow bridge, under a terrible musketry; and then reforming and running up the rugged hill, had reached the foot of the castle, when he fell severely wounded, and being carried back to the trenches, met Picton who hastened forward to take the command. Meanwhile his troops spreading along the front reared their ladders, some against the lofty castle, some against the adjoining front on the left, and with incredible courage ascended amidst showers of heavy stones, logs of wood, and bursting shells rolled off the parapet; while from the flanks the enemy plied his musketry with fearful rapidity, and in front with pikes and bayonets stabbing the leading assailants, or pushed the ladders from the walls; and all this attended with deafening shouts, and the crash of breaking ladders, and the shriek of soldiers crushed by violent falls. Still, swarming round the remaining ladders, these undaunted veterans strove who should first climb; until all being overturned, the French shouted victory, and the British, baffled but untamed, fell back a few paces, and took shelter under the rugged edge of the hill. Here, when the broken ranks were somewhat reformed, the heroic Colonel Ridge, springing forward, called with stentorian voice on his men to follow; and seizing a ladder, once more raised it against the castle, yet to the right of the former attack, where the wall was lower, and an embrasure offered some facility. A second ladder was soon placed alongside the first by the grenadier officer Canch, and the next instant he and Ridge were on the rampart; the shouting troops pressed after them; the garrison, amazed, and in a manner surprised, were driven fighting through the double gate into the town, and the castle was won. A reinforcement sent from the French reserve then came up, a sharp action followed, both sides fired through the gate, and the enemy retired; but Ridge fell,—and no man died that night with greater honour.

During these events, the tumult at the breaches was such, as if the very earth had been rent asunder, and its central fires were bursting up uncontrolled. The two divisions had reached the glacis in silence; as yet no stir was heard, and darkness covered the breaches. Some hay-packs were then thrown, several ladders placed, and the forlorn hopes and storming parties of the light division, about five hundred in all, had descended into the ditch without opposition, when a bright flame shooting upwards displayed all the terror of the scene. The ramparts, crowded with dark figures and glittering arms were on the one side; and on the other, the red columns of the British, deep and broad, were coming on like streams of burning lava. A crash immediately followed, and the storming parties were dashed to pieces with incredible violence by the explosion of hundreds of shells and powder barrels. The place which fell to my lot was just in the centre of this hurly-burly. With what similitude to illustrate our condition at that moment I know not. The regular discharge of musketry at given distances, and the usual clash of arms in field-warfare is rather rough, to say the least of it; but the collision of hostile forces in open space, where the combatants may evade approaching ruin, is civil pastime compared with this deadly ditch conflict. Each of the men fought as if the issue of the assault depended on his single arm. As to timidity, the thing was unknown; every drum-boy acted well. Shielded by Eternal Mercy, all undeserving as I was, my life was preserved. Not that it then appeared even to myself worth consideration. All thought of self-protection was banished from the corps in general. Every nerve and muscle was strained to the utmost tension in the struggle; among the whole body there appeared to be only one heart; and in the attempt to reach the ramparts all other considerations merged. But what an assemblage of furies; the excitement was indescribable. Fancying that the man immediately behind myself did not press forward with sufficient energy, I turned round, and with imprecations of which the bare remembrance causes regret, I declared that if he did not push on I would shoot him. Most likely I was wrong, not only in language but in opinion. I have since thought the man did his best; but in the raging of such a tempest, mistakes were easily made, and the mere notion of defective effort ignited the passions.

For one instant we stood on the brink of the ditch, amazed at the terrific sight; then with a shout that matched even the sound of the explosion, the men flew down the ladders, or disdaining their aid, leaped, unmindful of the depth, into the gulf below. The fourth division came running after, and followed with like fury; there were, however, only five ladders for both columns, which were close together; and a deep cut made in the bottom of the ditch as far as the counter-guard of the Trinidad, was filled with water from the inundation; into this watery snare the head of the fourth division fell, and it is said that above a hundred of the Fusileers, the men of Albuera, were there smothered. Great was the confusion at this juncture; for now the ravelin was crowded with men of both divisions, and while some continued to fire, others ran down and jumped towards the breach; many also passed between the ravelin and the counter-guard of the Trinidad; the two divisions got mingled; and the reserves, who should have remained at the quarries, also came pouring in, until the ditch was quite filled,—the rear still crowding forward, and all cheering vehemently. The enemy’s shouts were also loud and terrible; and the bursting of shells and of grenades, the roaring of the guns from the flanks, answered by the iron howitzers from the battery of the parallel, the heavy rolls and explosion of the powder barrels, the flight of the blazing splinters, the loud exhortations of the officers, and the continued clatter of the muskets, made a maddening din.

Impatient of delay, a heavy column now bounded up the great breach; but across the top glittered a range of sword-blades, sharp-pointed, keen-edged on both sides, and firmly fixed in ponderous beams, which were chained together and set deep in the ruins; and for ten feet in front the ascent was covered with loose planks studded with sharp iron points, on which the feet of the foremost being set, the planks moved, and the unhappy soldiers, falling forward on the spikes, rolled down upon the ranks behind. Then the Frenchmen, exulting at the success of their stratagem, and leaping forward, plied their shot with terrible rapidity; for every man had several muskets, and each musket, in addition to its ordinary charge, contained a small cylinder of wood, stuck full of leaden slugs, which scattered like hail when they were discharged. At the beginning of this dreadful conflict, Colonel Andrew Barnard had, with prodigious efforts, separated his division from the other, and preserved some degree of military array; but now the tumult was such that no command could be heard distinctly, except by those close at hand; and the mutilated bodies, heaped on each other, and the wounded, struggling to avoid being trampled upon, broke the formations. Order was unattainable; yet officers of all stations, followed more or less numerously by the men, were seen to start out, as if struck by sudden madness, and rush into the breach. In one of these attempts, Colonel M’Leod, of our regiment, a young man, whose feeble body would have been quite unfit for war, had it not been sustained by an unconquerable spirit, was killed. Wherever his voice was heard, there his soldiers gathered; and with such a strong resolution did he lead them up the fatal ruins, that when one behind him in falling plunged a bayonet in his back, he complained not, and continuing his course, was shot dead within a yard of the sword-blades. Two hours spent in these vain efforts convinced the soldiers that the breach of the Trinidad was impregnable. Gathering in dark groups, and leaning on their muskets, they looked up with sullen desperation; while the enemy, stepping out on the ramparts, and aiming their shots by the light of the fire-balls which they threw over, asked, as their victims fell, ‘why they did not come into Badajos?’

About midnight, when two thousand brave men had fallen, Wellington, who was on a height close to the quarries, sent orders for the remainder to retire, and reform for a second assault; for he had just then heard that the castle was taken, and, thinking the enemy would still hold out in the town, was resolved to assail the breaches again. This retreat from the ditch, however, was not effected without further carnage and confusion; for the French fire never slackened, and a cry arose that the French were making a sally from the distant flanks, which caused a rush towards the ladders. Then the groans and lamentations of the wounded, who could not move, and expected to be slain, increased; many officers, who had not heard of the order, endeavoured to stop the soldiers from going back, and some would even have removed the ladders, but were unable to break through the crowd.

All this time the third division was lying close to the castle; and, either from the fear of risking the loss of a point which ensured the capture of the place, or that the egress was too difficult, made no attempt to drive away the enemy from the breaches. On the other side, however, the fifth division had commenced the false attack on the Pardaleras; and on the right of the Guadiana the Portuguese were sharply engaged at the bridge. Thus the town was begirt; for General Walker’s brigade, having pressed on during the feint on the Pardaleras, was escalading the distant bastion of San Vincente. His troops had advanced along the banks of the river, and reached the French guardhouse at the barrier gate undiscovered, for the ripple of the waters smothered the sound of their footsteps; but just then the explosion at the breaches took place, the moon shone out, and the French sentinels, discovering the columns, fired. The British troops immediately springing forward under a sharp cover of musketry, began to hew down the wooden barrier at the covered way, while the Portuguese, being panic-stricken, threw down the scaling-ladders. Nevertheless, the others snatched them up again, and forcing the barrier, jumped into the ditch; but the guiding engineer officer was killed; and when the foremost man succeeded in reaching the ladders, the latter were found too short, for the walls were generally above thirty feet high. Meanwhile the fire of the French was deadly, a small mine was sprung beneath the soldiers’ feet, beams of wood and live shells were rolled over on their heads, showers of grape from the flank swept the ditch, and man after man dropped dead from the ladders. Fortunately, some of the defenders having been called away to aid in recovering the castle, the ramparts were not entirely manned; and the assailants, having discovered a corner of the bastion where the scarp was only twenty feet high, placed three ladders there, under an embrasure which had no gun, and was only stopped with a gabion. Some men with extreme difficulty got up, for the ladders were still too short; and the first man who gained the top was pushed up by his comrades, and then drew others after him, until many had gained the summit; and though the French shot heavily against them from both flanks, and from a house in front, they thickened, and could not be driven back. Half the 4th regiment entered the town itself to dislodge the enemy from the houses; while the others pushed forward towards the breach, and by dint of hard fighting successfully mastered three bastions. In this disorder a French reserve, under General Viellande, came on the British advance with a firm and rapid charge, and pitching some men over the walls, and killing others outright, again cleared the ramparts, even to the San Vincente. There, however, Colonel Nugent had taken his station with a battalion of the 38th, as a reserve; and when the French came up, shouting and slaying all before them, this battalion, about two hundred strong, arose, and with one close volley destroyed them. The panic then ceased; the soldiers rallied, and in compact order once more charged along the walls towards the breaches; but the French, although turned on both flanks, did not yield. Meanwhile the detachment of the 4th regiment, which had entered the town when the San Vincente was first carried, was strangely situated; for the streets were empty, and brilliantly illuminated, and no person was seen; yet a low murmur or whisper was occasionally heard, lattices were now and then gently opened, and from time to time shots were fired from underneath the doors of the houses. However, the troops, with bugles sounding, advanced towards the great square of the town; and in their progress captured several mules going with ammunition to the breaches. At length the French were beaten back, other parties entered the place, and finally General Viellande, and Phillipon, who was wounded, seeing all ruined, passed the bridge with a few hundred soldiers, and entered San Cristoval, where they all surrendered early the next morning, upon summons, to Lord Somerset, who had with great readiness pushed through the town to the draw-bridge before they had time to organize further resistance.

In these protracted conflicts many of the finest soldiers in the British army met their fate, and fell in the firm and vigorous discharge of their duty. Of these, numbers might have been preserved had they chosen to have fallen back; but it was with them a point of honour to gain the breach or die on the spot. So wonderful is the resolution of a noble heart; and so much the more is it to be regretted that power, so morally invincible, should be employed in the sad purpose of human destruction. For my own part, my mind had been unhesitatingly made up from the first shot that was fired, that so long as life and consciousness continued I would fulfil my commission to the best of my ability. As the battle grew hot I caught the contagion that burned all around, and in this desperate and murderous mood advanced to the breach of Trinidad. My pride perhaps wanted to be repressed; and while in the act of marching, I was wounded in the left thigh by a musket-shot, which remains unextracted to this day, and will probably go with me to the grave. At first, not disposed to heed the casualty, I affected to despise such a trifle, and continued to fight on. Nature, however, refused her support; and after firing a few times, I felt myself getting weak and feverish. What rendered my situation worse was, that at that precise moment the report of an unexpected sally of the French was circulated. Had that been realised, my doom would have been sealed, as I could neither resist nor retreat. In this condition, faint with loss of blood, I contrived to descend into the ditch with the help of my musket. Meanwhile the depth of water by some added inundation had been increased, and no ladder was to be discovered for my ascent on the opposite side. Unwilling to die there, I made another effort, and at length observed a ladder standing in front of the ditch. Unable to get up with my musket, I reluctantly left that behind, and scrambled up with extreme difficulty. Numerous shots were fired at me while ascending, and I perceived bullets whistling through the rounds of the ladder, but not one of them struck me. But I was sadly grieved at the loss of my musket; it had been a faithful friend to me; I seldom knew it to fail in the hour of need; the number on it was seventy-seven. Having succeeded in gaining the summit, I found, to my surprise, a young man belonging to the gallant Napier’s company, who kindly offered his arm, and supported me to the field-hospital. May the Almighty think upon and reward this timely benefactor! He was amongst the bravest where all were brave, and, though unhurt, had stood in the fore-front and pinnacle at the severest point of strife. With so large an influx of patients, it will be supposed that the hospital attentions were not very prompt. I was placed on the ground, with many others in a worse condition than myself, to await my turn for surgical assistance. After some hours I found that unless my wound ceased bleeding I should not long survive; this, with a little contrivance, I managed to effect. But the most intolerable sensation was that of raging thirst; all my worldly substance, ten times valued, would have been no price at all for a draught of water. Meantime the frost was so severe, that my limbs appeared to be deprived of flexibility and motion. In the course of the night, hearing a deep moan at a little distance, I called out, ‘Who is there?’ and was answered, ‘It’s me, Tom.’ The voice was familiar, and I found it was that of Patrick Murphy, an old comrade and countryman in Dalzell’s company, who had fought most nobly through several campaigns. He had been miserably burnt while endeavouring to force the breach, and suffered extremely. In the course of a day or two we were placed in military spring-wagons, and conveyed to Elvas. We were afterwards transferred to bullock-carts, a mode of conveyance not remarkable either for comfort or speed; the carriages were clumsily constructed, and ensured very little in the way of easy riding; added to which, we moved only at the rate of about one mile an hour.

I have to add with sorrow that the conquest of Badajos was attended with excesses that tend to tarnish the soldier’s character. All, indeed, were not alike, for hundreds risked and many lost their lives in striving to stop the violence; but the madness of ungovernable licentiousness generally prevailed; and as the worst men were leaders here, all the dreadful passions of human nature were displayed. Shameless rapacity, brutal intemperance, savage lust, cruelty and murder, shrieks and piteous lamentations, groans, shouts, curses, the hissing of fires bursting from the houses, the crashing of doors and windows, and the report of muskets used in violence, resounded for two days and nights in the devoted town. Five thousand men and officers fell during the siege; and of these, including seven hundred Portuguese, three thousand five hundred had been stricken in the assault,—sixty officers and more than seven hundred men being slain on the spot. Five generals were wounded; about six hundred men and officers fell in the escalade of San Vincente, as many at the castle, and more than two thousand at the breaches, each division there losing about twelve hundred. Let any man picture to himself this frightful carnage taking place in a space of less than a hundred square yards. Let him consider that the slain died not all suddenly, nor by one manner of death; that some perished by steel, some by shot, some by water, that some were crushed and mangled by heavy weights, some trampled upon, some dashed to atoms by fiery explosions; that for hours this destruction was endured without shrinking; and that the town was won at last. Let any man consider this, and he must admit that a British army is by no means deficient either in physical or moral excellence.

And it would be unjust to withhold the meed of praise from the French. The garrison stood and fought manfully and with good discipline, behaving worthily. Some of the instances of personal valour on each side were wondrous. A soldier of the 95th, in his resolution to win, thrust himself beneath the chained sword-blades, and there suffered the enemy to dash his head in pieces with the ends of their muskets; and the foremost man who entered the Santa Maria was an intrepid Portuguese Grenadier, who was killed on the spot. Ferguson, of the 43rd, had received two deep wounds in former assaults; and yet, though not half cured, he was here leading the stormers of his regiment, the third time a volunteer, and the third time wounded. In a former action a French officer was observed in the heat of battle in the act of striking at the gallant Felton Harvey, of the 14th Dragoons, when, on perceiving that he had only one arm, the high-minded Gaul, with a rapid movement, brought down his sword into a salute, and passed on. Traits like this are worth preservation.

On alighting from our vehicles at Elvas, we were at first placed in a dark, uncomfortable apartment, adjoining the fortifications; the roof was of arched masonry, and so damp on the inner side, that water fell on us in large drops. Our attendants were also nothing to boast of; for under pretence of bringing our haversacks containing provisions, they walked away with them altogether,—an evil against which we knew no remedy, being unable, through weakness, to search for the depredators or procure more food. The confusion in this unhappy lazar-house was extreme. Every man naturally thought his own case the most serious, and that it demanded care before all others. We were not, however, destined to remain long in these unsuitable quarters. Orders were received directing our removal to Estramores, and our journey thither was commenced the same night. The procession was rather melancholy. Several times we had to halt in order to bury some poor creature, who, exhausted by suffering, had fled away. On our arrival at Estramores, we found accommodation more suited to the exigencies of the invalided guests. A convent, sufficiently spacious, had been fitted up as a military hospital, and was well adapted for the purpose. When able to look around, I discovered several of my former associates. Here lay the man through whose body a ramrod had forced its way. On another couch reposed Patrick Marr, a daring fellow, but of bad character. He, with others, had led on the forlorn hope, and was violently struck with a musket-bullet. Then there was a young man named Forbes, who volunteered with myself into the 43rd. In a short period he died. Having an excellent constitution, I soon recovered my health, and in the course of a few weeks was pronounced convalescent.

In the winter of 1812 I was stationed at Gallegos; and on the 13th of January, 1813, was promoted to the rank of sergeant, in the place of one Hicks, who had recently died at Lisbon. Soon after this professional lift, one of the army physicians was desirous of inspecting such of the non-commissioned officers and men as had been wounded, or who, through length and severity of service, were supposed to require rest. Among these, I was one. On entering the room, Surgeon Gilchriest related several particulars concerning my past experience, when my name was included in a list of men who were directed to return to England. We then proceeded without loss of time to Lisbon, escorted by a detachment of the 95th. Mules were provided for us as far as Abrantes, after which we proceeded by water. I am sorry to observe that several of our party, thus indulged, ill requited the kindness shown, by drinking to excess; and am sorrier still to add, that I was weak enough to swell the number. The consequence was, that after a halt, when the detachment was ready to proceed, we were unprepared. The officer in command, a very young man, mildly remonstrated with me on the impropriety of such conduct. I answered with unbecoming rudeness; on which he drew his sword, and I flourished my cane. Several men, wiser than myself, then interfered, and mischief was prevented. My opinion is, that a man altogether overcome with strong liquor is beside himself, and should be consigned to the care of his friends, if he have any, until he is compos mentis, and may be safely trusted in social society. Next day I saw my error, and made an apology for the rudeness of the preceding day. When we had arrived to within six leagues of Lisbon, we landed for a short time, waiting for the return of tide, leaving in our boat a man named Latimer, in company with a Portuguese waterman. During that interval Latimer, who was in jesting humour, amused himself by soliciting the poor Portuguese to give him cigars. Not receiving what he expected, he foolishly took up a musket, forgetting it was loaded, and presented the muzzle to his unfortunate companion, jocularly observing, at the same time, that if he did not give him a cigar he would shoot him. He accordingly snapped the lock, and blew out the man’s brains, which, with part of his skull, were scattered about the boat. On arriving at Lisbon, I was half afraid that the officer with whom I had taken an unwarrantable liberty might call me to serious account for the misdemeanour, especially as it had taken place so soon after my promotion, when better things were expected; but I had the happiness to find that he knew both how to forget and forgive. He was an English officer; which in every correct vocabulary means a gentleman, and no mistake. He parted with me in excellent humour, and presented me with a small pecuniary balance at that time due for arrears of pay.

Soon after my arrival at Lisbon, three soldiers were sentenced to death for desertion; and while waiting for conveyance to England, I was ordered, among others, to mount guard at the execution. One of the men, being a Roman Catholic, was attended by a priest of that community; the other two were assisted by a Protestant clergyman. On arriving at the appointed spot, which was on the sands near Belem Castle, a party of soldiers, who were to fire at the culprits was drawn up in front, with their pieces loaded. The sufferers were ordered to kneel at the usual distance; and in sight of all were the graves, prepared for their reception. Just before the signal was given to fire, a dragoon galloped up with a reprieve for the Roman Catholic. The man, however, was so enfeebled and overcome that he was unable for some time to rise from his knees, or take the least notice of this extraordinary deliverance. The other two men were shot. Why the distinction was made, I know not; but without doubt, there were circumstances in the conduct of each, that called for lenity in the one instance and severity in the other two.

Our embarkation was immediately after effected; and having put to sea, we were favoured with a brief and agreeable voyage to the Isle of Wight, at which place we landed, and marched into Albary barracks. In the month of May, 1813, I again joined the 2nd battalion of the 43rd. Nothing surprised me more than the number of new faces in the corps. Such had been the ravages arising from accident, death, and other mischances of active warfare, that few only of my old associates remained, so that the regiment was to me nearly strange and new. My old ragged coat, fairly worn out, was exchanged for a new and handsome dress, ornamented with the professional insignia of my recently-acquired rank; and the first time I appeared on parade with the men was on the 4th of June, a day at that time of cheerful and loyal celebration, being the birth-day of the then reigning monarch, George the Third.

In the course of the summer, wishing to see my friends, I applied to the colonel of the regiment for a furlough granting permission for that purpose. Leave was given; and, that the service might at the same time be promoted, I was charged with the command of a party of men who were to proceed to, and be stationed at, Castlebar, in Ireland. None but those who have visited and been detained in foreign lands, can conceive aright of the intense desire that arises in the mind at intervals, to visit the country of their forefathers.

The supposition is incredible. Indeed, any circumstance which, while in Spain, induced me to think of Ireland was affecting; and I well remember the emotion felt on one occasion, merely because, on commencing a march, the band struck up the national air of ‘Saint Patrick’s day in the morning.’ Being directed to embark at Liverpool, I hastened there with the detachment, without delay; and having engaged passages on board the packet for Dublin, our luggage was shipped. My evil genius once more prevailed, and was so far present, as to seduce me, and of course, the soldiers under my direction, to enter a public-house of entertainment for refreshments, which might perhaps have been dispensed with. Forgetting ourselves, which those who love the potent glass are sure to do, we remained too long, so that on walking to the pier we discovered, to our no small dismay, that the packet had sailed. As negligence of this sort amounted to a breach of orders, I was apprehensive, in addition to the disappointment personally felt, of incurring the displeasure of my superior officer; beside which, our property was on board the vessel. Not a moment was to be lost. I therefore engaged a boat then on the beach, told the master to name his own price, and directed him to crowd all his canvas and strive to overtake the packet. We were instantly on board and under sail, standing out to sea in the track of the departed ship. Unfortunately the wind rose considerably, which created a great swell, so that after long and wearisome exertion, we had gained but little on the packet. We were at length perceived by the captain, who civilly shortened sail, lay to, and received us on board. Such are the penalties to be paid for unguarded delay.

Next evening I was refreshed beyond measure by a sight of the Pigeon House in the Bay of Dublin; and soon after placed my feet on Irish soil. One whole week, which seemed to be endless, expired before I had an opportunity of seeing my relatives. At the end of that time I could no longer refrain, and made a forced march to the neighbourhood, with a heart as light and devoid of care as may be desired. Every object was delightful. There was nothing like it any where else: the shrubs were so green, the sky was so bright and blue, the air so sweet, and even the earth was more soft and verdant than in other regions of the globe. Having to pass near the residence of a beloved sister, who with her husband and family, occupied a farm at Philipstone, I formed a little plan, and pleased myself with it, of taking her by surprise. I accordingly walked slowly to the house, as a wandering veteran in search of lodgings. As I expected, she did not know me; and no wonder. When last in her company, I was a mere gay and laughing youth. Now she saw the weather-beaten sunburnt visage of an unknown soldier, with his knapsack and side-arms, on whose countenance middle age had begun to limn a few serious lines. I began by informing her that my billet directed me to her house for quarter. ‘I take no soldiers here; you cannot be received.’ ‘But you will not be so hard as to turn me away! See how late it is.’ ‘Perhaps it may be; but I cannot provide for the like of you.’ ‘Surely that is not what you mean to say; some of your family are, likely enough, gone soldiering, and what would you think if either of them were served so?’ ‘That cannot happen. I had one brother, younger than myself, who listed in the army; but we shall never see him again. He was killed in battle.’ ‘Indeed! Perhaps I might have known him; pray what was his name?’ ‘Why, if it can be of any consequence to you, it was Thomas.’ ‘To be sure it was, sister; and here he is now. What! do you not know your brother?’ I need not describe the raptures of the interview. I kissed her; she wept for joy; explanations, inquiries, and wonderments, almost without measure or end, succeeded. In a few minutes the report of my arrival got abroad. Some thought it unlikely; others were sure it was impossible, unless the dead could be raised. Indeed, I discovered that letters had been received, stating that I had been slain at Badajos. Ocular demonstration, however, soon settled all debate; and congratulations, such as few but an Irishman yields, were tendered with true sincerity and friendship.

I proceeded without loss of time to my mother’s residence. Having been misled by the report of my decease, she could scarcely credit the testimony of her senses when I appeared before her. Great indeed was her exultation and my pleasure at meeting once more on earth. Nor did the time occupied by this social visit hang heavily upon my hands. Among other enterprises which attracted my notice, I made proposals of marriage to an excellent young woman, who was generous enough to listen; the preliminaries were soon arranged; we were shortly after united; and to this day I have reason to be thankful for the choice then made. Beside all this, I had to detail my adventures to numerous groups of listeners, each of whom must have a new version of the strange man’s tale. The thirst was unquenchable for notices

with all the other vanities and circumstance of war. Being in high spirits, aided it is likely with a little vanity, so likely to cleave to a man who seeks to recommend himself by feats of arms, I had no objection to dwell occasionally upon the perils and deliverances of bygone time. But during the whole of this season my spirit was not humbled by the least sense of moral defect. I knew nothing of myself. Indeed, such was the loftiness of carriage which I thought it right to assume that it was with me a point of honour never to sustain an affront unavenged. And yet, on looking back, I can trace an invisible but resistless influence, which even then guided me aright, and saved me from various threatening dangers. What I mean is, I was never utterly abandoned to my own devices.

My furlough having expired, I returned to England, and landed at Liverpool, in the winter of 1814; which was remarkable for one of the hardest frosts known in this country for many preceding years. I received orders from the paymaster to proceed to Kent, with a party of recruits destined for that district; and as most of the young fellows were rude and unruly, and strangers to military restraint, it required no common share of firmness, tempered with discretion properly to conduct and manage them. I arrived, without missing a man, in the vicinity of Maidstone. Just before entering the town, one of the most ungovernable of the squad contrived to dip his hands in mischief; nor was his mouth entirely guiltless. Having run up a score at one of the road-side inns, for liquors had and drunk, he was unable to pay the reckoning; when being minus of ready cash, he proposed leaving some valuable equivalent in the hands of the landlord, as a temporary deposit, to be shortly redeemed; this consisted of a bundle, containing, he averred, much valuable property. We had not proceeded far on our journey, when poor Boniface came running after us, stating that on opening the package it contained nothing but a few worthless rags. Meantime the shuffler, apprehensive of detection and no doubt conscience-stricken, had purposely out-walked us, and was considerably in advance when the plaintiff overtook us. We could only pity his sad case, and preach caution for the future. The troublesome personage just adverted to was the author of more mischief. At our next halt, under the influence, it is probable, of the late excesses, he quarrelled with the servants in the house; and being a powerful man, of about six feet two inches in height, soon cleared the public room of its inmates; getting into the street, he threw off his coat, and gave a general challenge for a fight. The invitation was properly rejected; and, like many other violent spirits, he was eventually subdued, and marched quietly to quarters.

Here I received unexpected orders to proceed to Plymouth. On my arrival there, I was stationed in the citadel. My removal was providential. I here met with an old friend, by whose side I had fought in Spain; he had received a commission as captain in the 2nd battalion. The last time we had met was on the ramparts of Ciudad Rodrigo, where he was dreadfully scorched by an explosion of combustibles. He introduced me in a very handsome manner to several officers in the garrison, and made honourable mention of my former conduct; by his influence I was also appointed colour-sergeant to the company. While at Plymouth, an order was issued which gave the soldiers liberty to attend such places of public worship as they thought fit, only it was expected that each should keep to his own community. When the order was read, I fell out for the Roman Catholic, where I continued some time to attend. The truth is, it mattered little by what name my religion was designated; for it was utterly worthless. I recollect that, one wet Sunday morning, it was my turn to march the catholic party to Stonehouse chapel. The piety of the others was about equal to mine. Finding ourselves rather damp from the rain, it was proposed that instead of going to mass, we should adjourn to the next public house. This was agreed to without a division; and there we remained till night-fall. Meanwhile I was a mighty advocate for papacy; indeed few were louder than myself if challenged on the score of my religion. In the month of March, 1817, the second battalions of several regiments, in order to reduce them to the peace establishment, were disbanded; and that in which I served was of the number. We were inspected, previously to dismission, by the medical officer; and though my services had not extended the length required by rule, yet, in consideration of the wounds I had received, I was placed upon the pension-list for an allowance of one shilling per diem. Thus disengaged from the toil of military avocation, I felt desirous of directing my steps homeward again; I accordingly crossed the channel, and arrived safely at Portarlington, Queen’s County, in the month of May.

Coming events again introduced me to the army. In November, 1819, the pensioners were called up for examination, that those who were fit for service might be enrolled as a veteran battalion. For that purpose I went to Carlow, and was deemed by the inspector fit for the duty required. After continuing there several weeks, directions were received, ordering that the whole of the sergeants, excepting four or five, should be dispensed with. The matter was decided among us by lot, and the decision happened to be against me. As I was placed by this event in disadvantageous circumstances, and excluded from the rank to which I felt myself entitled, I at once enlisted in the 7th foot, intending to serve my full period of time, and be thus ultimately entitled to an increased pension. With this view I resolved to conduct myself with strict propriety. But what are human resolutions? Can the Ethiop change his skin, or the leopard her spots? Just as soon can man reform himself, independently of divine principles. Without descending to particulars, I relapsed into conviviality and habitual dissipation. Strong drink ruined all my existing prospects. There were several religious men in the regiment, who expostulated with me on the folly of such conduct; but such were my ignorance and depravity, their words were as an idle tale. Nor, in fact, was I in other respects at home in the regiment. I missed the partners of my former dangers and hard service, men who not only talked of war, but had turned the tide of battle. We had also certain interests in which we seemed to be proprietors in common; and now I felt myself comparatively alone, and among strangers. We lay for some time at Newcastle, and from thence removed to Tynemouth Castle; while at the latter place, I was the means, under Providence, of saving the life of a fellow creature. During a heavy gale of wind, a sloop was driven ashore near the barracks, and all hands on board were in danger of perishing. The waves broke frightfully over the deck, sweeping in their course every moveable and threatening quick destruction to the ship. The crew clung to the rigging with trembling and uncertain grasp. Hundreds of spectators lined the shore but though all felt deep concern, none knew how to assist. At last a rope was by some means conveyed from the vessel to the beach, and soon after hauled tight; a young sailor and myself then ventured on it, through the surf, and reached the vessel in safety. Among others, the captain threw himself overboard, but missed his hold of the rope, and sank. He was under water some time, when I dived in search of him, and having fortunately grasped him by the hair, was able to raise his head above the surface of the water. The next moment we were both struck by a powerful wave, which sent us with rapidity on the shelving rocks, where we were picked up by several persons who came to assist. I was much exhausted for several hours, but in the evening was sufficiently recovered to walk to the inn, and inquire for the captain’s welfare. He had been carefully attended, and, though much bruised, was doing well. He knew me at the first glance, and exclaimed, ‘That’s the man that saved my life. I hope the country will reward him.’ Several gentlemen frequenting the Library and Reading-room, who saw the occurrence, were equally loud in their praises; and a clergyman, I understood, moved that I be rewarded with ten pounds and a silver medal. For distinctions so flattering I ought perhaps to be grateful; for they are all the reward I ever had. Why the worthy captain should expect the country to produce a premium for the saving of his life, I am at a loss to conjecture. One would have thought that the onus of doing that might have been laid upon a party much easier of access. Never from that time did I hear from these eloquently grateful parties.