March from Elvas to Badajoz—Defences of that city—The investment—A sortie—Operations of the batteries—Capture of fort Picurina—Preparations for the grand assault—Advance of the "forlorn hope"—Desperate encounter at the breaches—Loss of life experienced by the British—The mode of attack changed to escalade with success—The city sacked by the British troops—Reflections respecting the conduct of the siege—Incidental anecdotes.

On the morning of the 17th of March we formed contiguous columns, outside the walls of Elvas, and entering a spacious plain, passed the river Guadiana by a pontoon bridge, a few miles below Badajoz, which was garrisoned by nearly five thousand French soldiers. It is situated on the margin of the left bank of the Guadiana, in the province of Estremadura, in Spain, and encompassed by an open country, without a tree, a shrub, or even a hut to be seen without its walls. The ramparts are about two miles in circumference, and were protected by the forts San Cristoval, Napoleon, and the TÊte de Pont, at the head of the fine stone bridge, which communicates with the right bank of the Guadiana.

The fort Picurina, the outworks of Pardalaras, and the lunette of Saint Roque, constituted the general outworks of the city, on the left bank of the river.

As we drew near the ramparts of the fortress, we saw the flag of three colours majestically waving on the top of the great lofty square tower, in the centre of the old castle, which stands on the summit of a hill, whose frowning battlements overhang the town, and overlook the adjacent plains for a considerable distance.

The third, fourth, and light divisions invested the city on the left bank of the Guadiana¹⁸.

Our division bivouacked within one mile and a half S.S.W. of the town, our position communicating in a manner with the bridge of boats. The day was fine; but at six o'clock in the evening the rain began to fall in torrents, and continued the whole night, which prevented the enemy hearing the troops when they commenced the first parallel, and the latter continued to work all night without being molested.

Before daylight on the 18th, the parties fell in to relieve those of our division who had first broke ground, a thousand yards S. E. of the town; we had to make a quarter circle, which rendered the march nearly three miles to the mouth of the trench, where we arrived at daybreak, and I saw the first shot; it was fired from the Fort Picurina, and killed two poor fellows in the covering party of the fourth division, which was formed under the slope of a hill. In a few minutes the round shot came up the road quite often enough to put our blood into circulation; and we immediately took our station under a small natural rise of ground, where we remained covering the workmen for twelve hours. The cannonade was pretty regular during the day, both from the town and from Fort Picurina.

We returned to camp an hour after dark, and I was surprised to find the division had been supplied with Portuguese tents. I found my friend waiting in one for me, and the canteens laid out with all the affection of a youthful soldier. I had been exposed in the rain for twenty-five hours, and this was one of the happiest moments of my life.

On the 19th, at mid-day, the firing from the town was very heavy; every one in the best position for security, which it was not difficult to obtain, as the trenches were well advanced, but every body cried "Keep down," for which truly there was no occasion. Notwithstanding this cry, Israel Wild, and another man of our regiment, who was afterwards killed, (a splendid soldier,) got on the top of the trench. I caught hold of Israel's¹⁹ jacket, to pull him down, but he turned round, and said, in a most furious manner, "We know what we are about;" then looking forward for a moment, shouted, with an oath, that the French were coming on, and instantly sprung out of the trench like a tiger, following his comrade, just such another fine fellow. Two or three French dragoons at that instant fired their pistols into the trenches, having approached within a few yards without being perceived. We had just entered the mouth of the first parallel, and all joined in a simultaneous attack on the enemy's infantry, without regard to trenches or any thing else. The French being beaten out of the advanced lines, retired and formed line under the castle, having two field-pieces on their left flank. I cannot say how they entered the town, there was so much smoke covering them, when near the walls. General Philippon knew his business well. Fourteen hundred men came out—two battalions.

We had quite abandoned the trenches, and approached near to the castle. I perceived two soldiers of another division, who were stretched close to where I stood: one was quite dead, a round shot having passed through his body; the other had lost a leg, his eyelids were closed, and he was apparently dead. An adventurous Portuguese began to disincumber him of his clothes. The poor soldier opened his eyes and looked in the most imploring manner, while the villain had him by the belts, lifting him up. I gave the humane Portuguese a blow with the back of my sabre, that laid him prostrate for a time, by the side of the soldier he was stripping.

I know not what became of the wounded man, as my attention was attracted by an extraordinary circumstance. I saw a heavy shot hopping along, till it struck a soldier on the hip; down he went, motionless. I felt confident that the wounded man was not dead, and begged that some of his comrades would carry him off to the rear, (we were now retiring under a heavy cannonade); my words were at first unheeded, but two soldiers, at the risk of their lives, rushed back, and brought him in, or he, with many others, would have been starved to death, between our lines and the ramparts of the town. His hip was only grazed, and his clothes untorn; but, of course, he was unable to walk, and seemed to feel much pain, for he groaned heavily.

The sortie took place about a quarter after twelve; (military time, quite correct;) we were filing into the trenches. The day was fine, and the time well selected by the governor, as he concluded that the front parallel would be vacant while the relief was coming in; but there was an order against that.

The trenches were very extensive. The weather again became bad, and our right battery was silenced; but when the great breaching battery was completed, it fired salvos, which the enemy returned in a similar manner from a battery just under the castle-gate, on a commanding situation. One morning, at daylight, the enemy brought a light gun out of the town to enfilade the right of the front parallel; but as the relief came in at the time, I do not know the sequel of it.

The left of our lines, previously to the escalade of Picurina, ran within about a hundred yards parallel to it. One hundred of our regiment were employed one night on the delightful job of carrying the trenches across the Seville road. We commenced at the distance of one hundred and fifty yards from the fort. The instant the enemy heard the pickaxes striking on the hard road, they opened, when, strange to relate, eleven rounds of grape were poured on us, and yet only one officer was hit. The gunners could not depress their artillery so as to cover the spot we were on.

I was surprised that they used no musketry; but I imagine they had orders not to do so at night, unless an attempt was made to escalade the fort.

Picurina was situated on a rising ground, without the least appearance of strength. Three hundred of the enemy formed the garrison, and latterly they were obliged to block up their embrasures with sand-bags, to screen themselves from the musketry of our lines; now and then they cleared away to fire grape shot.

Towards the end of the siege the weather became beautiful. One day in particular, the enemy scarcely fired a shot, all our troubles were forgotten, and two or three of us amused ourselves by reading a novel in the trenches.

Lieutenant Wilkinson,²⁰ was among the wounded on that day. There was a path across a field, which communicated with our grand battery, and an order forbade any person to cross it in the day-time, as the French were continually firing small arms whenever any lazy-fellow took that road. Poor little Wilky's curiosity was excited; he made a start out of fun, was just entering the battery, when alas! he fell, shot through the thigh.

On the night of the 25th, a part of the third division, and also one hundred of the light division, carrying ladders, assailed Picurina, directed by General Sir James Kempt, and for a long time without success: no wonder! The ditch was terrifically deep, and narrow at the bottom. The soldiers walked round the fort, prying into all corners, and got upon the gate, which they broke down, and then entered, bayonets in advance. The French grenadiers would not give in—a desperate bayonetting took place, and much blood was spilt; already five hundred French soldiers from the town were at hand. The struggle continued with hard fighting, inside and outside of the fort. The enemy wished to vie with their comrades who had defended Fort St. Christoval at the former siege. Victory was some minutes doubtful; at length the fort was taken, and the reinforcements were beaten back into the town. I was sitting at the door of my tent, and witnessed all the firing.

The garrison of Badajoz fired every morning, for a few days previously to the grand assault, a certain number of rounds, as if for practice, and to measure the ground.

The first order for storming the breaches fixed it to take place on the 5th of April. I was informed that my turn for trench duty fell on that evening, because the officer just preceding me was out of the way. I resolved to play a like trick, and for a like reason, namely, not to miss the assault. I therefore got a friend to persuade the Adjutant to allow that the men should march off without me, promising to follow. This anecdote I relate, because of the curious circumstance that it led to.

When I was quite certain that the assault was not to take place that night, I mounted my horse, and, riding to the entrance of the first parallel, I gave the animal to my batman, and proceeded on foot. I had just crossed the trench, and got into a field, taking a short cut, when I observed two figures making towards me. There was not any firing; a solemn silence reigned around. Coming up at a half run, I put my hand to my sword, for the night was clear, and I saw they were not soldiers; they soon closed on me, demanding boldly, and in Spanish, the way out of the trenches: I pointed out the road to them, but, an instant after, suspected they were not Spaniards, but spies. I noticed they kept their hands behind them, and I thought it also very civil of them not to fire, for I am confident they were well armed. "Buenas noches, SeÑor," said they, and hastily retired. When I reached the great battery, and found every body in it asleep, I thought the place bewitched. This was my last trip to the trenches. Thirteen times I visited them during the siege.

A long order was issued relative to the positions the troops were to occupy. On the 6th of April, the day was fine, and all the soldiers in good spirits, cleaning themselves as if for a review. About two o'clock I saw Lieutenant Harvest of our regiment; he was sucking an orange, and walking on a rising ground, alone, and very thoughtful. It gave me pain, as I knew he was to lead the "forlorn hope". He observed, "My mind is made up; I am sure to be killed²¹."

At half-past eight o'clock that night the ranks were formed, and the roll called in an under-tone. Lieutenant-Colonel M'Leod spoke long and earnestly to the regiment before it joined the division, expressing the utmost confidence in the result of the attack, and finished by repeating, that he left it to the honour of all persons to preserve discipline, and not to commit any cruelty on the defenceless inhabitants of the town.

The division drew up in the most profound silence behind the large quarry, three hundred yards from the three breaches, made in the bastions of la Trinidad, and Santa Maria. A small stream separated us from the fourth division. Suddenly, a voice was heard from that direction, giving orders about ladders, so loud, that it might be heard by the enemy on the ramparts. It was the only voice that broke on the stillness of the moment; every body was indignant, and Colonel M'Leod sent an officer to say that he would report the circumstance to the General-in-Chief. I looked up the side of the quarry, fully expecting to see the enemy come forth, and derange the plan of attack. It was at half-past nine this happened, but, at a quarter before ten, the ill-timed noise ceased, and nothing could be heard but the loud croaking of the frogs.

At ten a carcass was thrown from the town; this was a most beautiful fire-work, and illuminated the ground for many hundred yards; two or three fire-balls followed, and, falling in different directions, showed a bright light, and remained burning. The stillness that followed was the prelude to one of the strangest scenes that the imagination of man can conceive.

Soon after ten o'clock, a little whispering announced that "the forlorn hope" were stealing forward, followed by the storming parties, composed of three hundred men, (one hundred from each British regiment of our division;) in two minutes the division followed²². One musket shot, no more, was fired near the breaches by a French soldier, who was on the look out. We gained ground leisurely—but silently; there were no obstacles. The 52nd, 43rd, and part of the rifle corps, closed gradually up to column of quarter distance, left in front; all was hushed, and the town lay buried in gloom; the ladders were placed on the edge of the ditch, when suddenly an explosion took place at the foot of the breaches, and a burst of light disclosed the whole scene:—the earth seemed to rock under us:—what a sight! The ramparts crowded with the enemy—the French soldiers standing on the parapets—the fourth division advancing rapidly in column of companies on a quarter circle to our right, while the short-lived glare from the barrels of powder and combustibles flying into the air, gave to friends and foes a look as if both bodies of troops were laughing at each other.

A tremendous firing now opened on us, and for an instant we were stationary; but the troops were no ways daunted. The only three ladders were placed down the scarp to descend into the ditch, and were found exactly opposite the centre breach, and the whole division rushed to the assault with amazing resolution. There was no check. The soldiers flew down the ladders, and the cheering from both sides was loud and full of confidence.

While descending the ladders into the ditch, furious blows were exchanged amongst the troops in their eagerness to get forward; at the same time grape-shot and musketry tore open their ranks. The first officer I happened to see down was Captain Fergusson, who had led on our storming-party here, and at Rodrigo; he was lying to the right of the ladders, with a wound on the head, and holding a bloody handkerchief in his grasp²³. I snatched it out of his hand, and tied it round his head. The French were then handing over the fire-balls, which produced a sort of revolving light. The ditch was very wide, and when I arrived at the foot of the centre breach, eighty or ninety men were formed. One cried out, "Who will lead?" This was the work of a moment. Death, and the most dreadful sounds and cries encompassed us. It was a volcano! Up we went; some killed, and others impaled on the bayonets of their own comrades, or hurled headlong amongst the outrageous crowd.

The chevaux-de-frise looked like innumerable bayonets. When within a yard of the top, I fell from a blow that deprived me of sensation. I only recollect feeling a soldier pulling me out of the water, where so many men were drowned. I lost my cap, but still held my sword. On recovering, I looked towards the breach. It was shining and empty! fire balls were in plenty, and the French troops standing upon the walls, taunting, and inviting our men to come up and try it again.

Colonel M'Leod was killed while trying to force the left corner of the large breach²⁴. He received his mortal wound within three yards of the enemy, just at the bottom of some nine-feet planks, studded with nails, and hanging down the breach from under the chevaux-de-frise.

At half-past eleven the firing slackened, and the French detached soldiers from the breaches to repulse the other attacks, and to endeavour to retake the castle. I heard the enemy calling out on the ramparts in German, "All is well in Badajoz!"

The British soldiers did as much as men could do. The wood-work of the chevaux-de-frise was ponderous, bristling with short stout sword-blades fastened in it, and chained together. It was an obstacle not to be removed, and the French soldiers stood close to it, killing deliberately every man who approached it. The large breach was at one time crowded with our brave troops; I mean the fourth division, the heroes of many hard-fought victories and bloody fields. The light division had recently been crowned with victory; but to remove such obstacles was impracticable by living bodies, pushing against them up a steep breach, and sinking to the knees every step in rubbish, while a fearless enemy stood behind pushing down fragments of masonry and live shells, and firing bullets, fixed on the top of pieces of wood, the sides of which were indented with seven or eight buck shot.

Generals Picton, Colville, Kempt, Bowes, Hervey, Walker, Champlemond, and almost every officer commanding regiments, besides more than three hundred officers, and between four and five thousand gallant veteran soldiers, fell around these walls.

The left breach²⁵ had not been attempted at all until a quarter before twelve o'clock, when Captain Shaw of our regiment²⁶, collecting about seventy men of different regiments, and with great difficulty, after such slaughter for two hours, made a desperate effort to gain the top; but when half-way up, as if by enchantment, he stood alone. Two rounds of grape and the musketry prevented any more trouble, for almost the whole of the party lay stretched in various attitudes!

Captain Nichols²⁷, of the Engineers, was of the number; he now showed great courage; and when asked by Shaw, if he would try the left breach, answered he would do any thing to succeed. A grape-shot went through his lungs, and he died three days after.

This attack was very daring. It was a forlorn hope, under accumulated dangers; almost all the troops had retired²⁸, and, a few moments before, a great alarm was excited by a cry from the heaps of wounded, that the French were descending into the ditch. To exaggerate the picture of this sanguinary strife is impossible:—the small groups of soldiers seeking shelter from the cart-wheels, pieces of timber, fire-balls, and other missiles hurled down upon them; the wounded crawling past the fire-balls, many of them scorched and perfectly black, and covered with mud, from having fallen into the lunette, where three hundred soldiers were suffocated or drowned; and all this time the French on the top of the parapets, jeering and cracking their jokes, and deliberately picking off whom they chose. The troops lining the glacis could not fire sufficiently, as they were terribly exposed, and could scarcely live from the cross fire of grape-shot.

Colonel Barnard²⁹ did all in his power to concentrate the different attacks. It was in vain; the difficulties were too great. But Badajoz was not the grave of the light division's valour, nor of the fourth division's either.

Philippon, the governor, a Frenchman, and our enemy, gave the full particulars of this affair to a friend of mine, while travelling in England; he said that he thought the great explosion would have finished the business, but he was astonished at the resolution of the British troops, who, he said, were fine fellows, and deserved a better fate.

The single musket-shot, fired just as the "forlorn hope" descended the ditch, was a signal of their approach, which shows how determined the French were to have a good blow-up, for not a ball was fired before the explosion. The efforts of the garrison to preserve the place did them much honour. Philippon was determined not to do as the governor of Ciudad Rodrigo had done. Had not the Earl of Wellington planned the two extreme attacks by escalade, on the castle, by the third division, and on the south side of the town by part of the fifth division, and on the Fort Pardalaras by the Portuguese, the result might have been very serious. The Duke of Dalmatia was within a few leagues, and opposite Generals Hill³⁰ and Graham³¹. The Duke of Ragusa had pushed his advanced dragoons as far as the Bridge of Boats at Villa Velha, and at length got entangled in the labyrinths of Portugal. I have heard and read of sitting down before a town, opening trenches, blowing up the counterscarp, and all according to rule; but this was a crisis, time was precious, added to which the Guadiana ran in our rear, and the pontoon bridge had been carried away once during the siege, by the swelling of the river.

When the French soldiers found that the town was falling by escalade on the south side, and that the castle was lost to them, they made an attempt to retake the latter by an old gate, leading towards the town; that gate was pierced by their musketry in numberless places. I never saw a target better covered with holes. The third division had in return twice discharged a gun through it, which made two large holes. An old handspike was placed under its breech to depress it, and remained precisely in the same way three days afterwards. The scaling-ladders were well placed, five quite close together, against an old round tower. Many slain soldiers had evidently been pushed from off the parapet, and rolled nearly fifty yards down the hill; some lay with heads battered to pieces, whilst others were doubled up, looking scarcely human, and their broken limbs twisted in all directions.

The third division had been obliged to cross the broken bridge over the small river Revellas, rank entire, (amidst a shower of grape-shot, bullets, and bursting of shells,) and during the work of death to drag the unwieldy ladders up a rugged hill, to plant them against the walls: their first effort failed; many of the enemy then, contrary to General Philippon's orders, evacuated the Castle, and went to assist at the breaches. At this moment, Lieutenant-Colonel Ridge of the fifth regiment called on an officer of his corps, "There, you mount one ladder, and I will lead up the other. Come on Fifth, I am sure that you will follow your commanding officer." He was killed; but the place was carried!

Let us pause and reflect that this act of heroism was executed after a long and fearful struggle, high walls and defeat staring them in the face.

The third division then filled the castle, and there remained until day light. On the south side of the town, General Walker's brigade of the fifth division³², hearing the rolling fire at the breaches, became impatient, and, with a simultaneous rush, gained (by escalade) the top of the walls, and even formed on the ramparts. On seeing a light, the cry of a mine was set up, and a short panic ensuing, the enemy at the same time charging forward at a run with fixed bayonets and shouting loudly, these troops were forced to give ground. An officer informed me, that he had thrown himself over the ramparts to save the colours of his corps, while nearly surrounded by French grenadiers. This bold fellow had the choice of either being pinned to the wall, or the risk of breaking his neck: he chose the latter. The rear regiment, however, fortunately stood firm. Many of the enemy then precipitately abandoned the town, accompanied by the Governor, crossed the bridge, and shut themselves up in Fort St. Christoval, on the other side of the Guadiana; and the next morning surrendered themselves prisoners of war. This brigade continued to be hotly engaged in the streets during the whole night. Some even asserted, that many of the Spaniards fired from their windows on our troops, and held out lights to guide the French; knowing that their property would fall a sacrifice, should the town be taken.

The place was eventually completely sacked by our troops; every atom of furniture broken; mattresses ripped open in search of treasure; and one street literally strewed with articles, knee-deep. A convent was in flames, and the poor nuns in dishabille, striving to burrow themselves into some place of security; however, that was impossible; the town was alive, and every house filled with mad soldiers, from the cellar to the once solitary garret.

When I examined the three breaches by day, and witnessed the defences the enemy had made for their protection, I was fully satisfied that they were impregnable to men; and I do declare, most positively, that I could not have surmounted the chevaux-de-frise, even unopposed, in the day-time.

Some talk that grappling-irons would have moved them. Who would, who could have done it? thousands of warlike French soldiers standing firmly up to the points, not giving an inch, and ready for the fight. They fought in the streets to the last, and tried to retake the castle—Que voulez-vous?

The chevaux-de-frise were fixed after dark. Round-shot alone could have destroyed these defences, which were all chained together, and not made in a temporary manner, as most military men imagine, but strong and well finished; and the enemy, behind all, had made a deep cut, over which they had thrown planks, communicating with the town, besides three field-pieces to enfilade the centre breach, if the chevaux-de-frise should be seriously shaken. Had it not been for this, the divisions would have entered like a swarm of bees.

One man only was at the top of the left breach (the heaps of dead had, as a matter of course, rolled to the bottom), and that was one of the rifle corps who had succeeded in getting under the chevaux-de-frise. His head was battered to pieces, and his arms and shoulders torn asunder with bayonet wounds.

Our batteries did not play on the ramparts that night after dark; but when the explosion took place, the whole of them opened with blank cartridge in our rear—probably to frighten the enemy, or to make them keep down; but they were old soldiers, and not to be so done.

Poor M'Leod, in his 27th year, was buried half a mile from the town, on the south side, nearly opposite our camp, on the slope of a hill. We did not like to take him to the miserable breach, where, from the warmth of the weather, the dead soldiers had begun to turn, and their blackened bodies had swollen enormously; we, therefore, laid him amongst some young springing corn; and, with sorrowful hearts, six of us (all that remained of the officers able to stand) saw him covered in the earth. His cap, all muddy, was handed to me, I being without one, with merely a handkerchief round my bruised head, one eye closed, and also a slight wound in my leg.

The country was open. The dead, the dying, and the wounded were scattered abroad; some in tents, others exposed to the sun by day, and the heavy dew at night. With considerable difficulty, I found at length my friend, Lieutenant Madden, lying in a tent with his trowsers on and his shirt off, covered with blood, bandaged across the body to support his broken shoulder, laid on his back, and unable to move. He asked for his brother.—"Why does he not come to see me?" I turned my head away; for his gallant young brother (a captain of the 52nd) was amongst the slain!

Captain Merry, of the 52nd, was sitting on the ground sucking an orange. He said, "How are you?—You see that I am dying; a mortification has ensued." A grape-shot had shattered his knee; and he had told the doctor that he preferred death rather than to permit such a good leg to be amputated. Another officer had just breathed his last between these two sufferers.

The camp became a wilderness, some of the tents being thrown down, others vacant, and flapping in the wind, while the musketry still rattled in the town, announcing the wild rejoicing of our troops.