Preparations for the siege of Ciudad Rodrigo—A review of the
light Division by Lord Wellington—The fort and convent of
Saint Francisco taken—Storming the breach—Capture of the
place—Regulations for the prevention of plunder—Disorders
committed in the city—Remarks and anecdotes connected with
the siege—Burial of General Craufurd—Removal of quarters
to El Bodon—Vestiges of the previous engagement near that
place—Ciudad Rodrigo consigned to a Spanish garrison—March
towards Badajoz—Castello de Vida—Fortress of Elvas—An
accidental acquaintance.
At the expiration of some months' travail by the engineer department,
in procuring stores from various places, active operations were
commenced to collect them near at hand,—such as the battering train,
cannon balls, ammunition, gabions, fascines, scaling-ladders, sand
bags, shovels, spades, pickaxes, &c.—for the purpose of laying
siege to Ciudad Rodrigo, (in the province of Leon,) which stands on
an eminence on the right bank of the river Agueda, surrounded by an
open country, and was garrisoned by two thousand French soldiers. The
walls of the fortress are rather more than a mile and a quarter in
circumference, enclosing monasteries, convents, and churches,—which
gives the city at a distance the appearance of an immense gothic castle.
A few days previously to the siege, Lord Wellington reviewed the light
division on the plains of Guinaldo. He was dressed in full uniform, and
merely rode down the line, looking at the troops in a cheerful manner.
Just as his Lordship was leaving the ground, which was covered with
snow, General Craufurd appeared, and soon after the troops returned to
their quarters. The second brigade came from Martiago, and returned
that night—an immense march. A few days subsequently to this review,
the whole division was concentrated, the first brigade moving to La
Encina, the second to El Bodon. During this march a tremendous storm
of sleet and snow took place; the snow froze and adhered to the horses
hoofs, forming balls which raised them several inches from the ground.
Fortunately, the march was short, as fatigue-parties of soldiers were
obliged to return to prop up the weak and staggering baggage-animals,
that had suffered previously from bad provender.
On the 8th of January, 1812, the light division crossed the Agueda,
_sans culotte_, (_a cooler!_) at a ford about four miles above Ciudad
Rodrigo. The day was fine, and, indeed, during the operations of the
siege, the atmosphere was mild for the season of the year, although
sometimes frosty of a morning.
The division bivouacked for some hours two miles from the town.
When the darkness had set in, three hundred soldiers drawn from the
43d, 52d, and the rifle corps, moved under the command of Colonel
Colborne[14], to assault the fort of Francisco. The enemy fired about
two rounds; our good troops did not allow more time, and the fort was
taken. It was situated on a rising ground, six hundred yards from the
town, was of a square form, with two small howitzers, "_en barbette_,"
and had a garrison of two officers and forty soldiers, who were made
prisoners. Six or eight others either were killed or escaped into the
town, where the drums began to beat to arms, and a furious fire of shot
and shell opened on us, while digging a parallel close to the captured
fort; the earth being thrown up on the town side. The land is arable,
and bestrewn with loose stones, which were flying on all sides from the
impulse given by the cannon balls, and the bursting of shells, which
were exploding on every side, killing and maiming many soldiers.
The great convent of Saint Francisco, in the suburb, was carried a
few days before the storming of the town, and also the ruined convent
of Santa Cruz. On the morning of the 14th, about five hundred French
soldiers made a sortie from the city, and before they retired were
very nearly succeeding in entering the batteries, where the battering
cannon had been placed the night before. The twenty-four pounders were
of iron, mounted like field guns, on handsome carriages, painted lead
colour.
An hour before dark on this day, the batteries opened within six
hundred yards of the ramparts for the purpose of battering in breach.
The first, third, fourth, and light divisions, employed in the siege
moved by turns from their cantonments, each taking a twenty-four hours'
spell.[15]
On the 19th of January, the light division was ordered to the assault
out of its turn. During the greater part of the day we remained cooking
behind the convent of the Norbortins, a most splendid ruin, with very
extensive cloisters, situated close on the right bank of the Agueda,
three miles S. E. of the town. Soon after three o'clock we moved
towards the ground occupied by the foot guards, who were halted one
mile and a half from the suburbs of Ciudad Rodrigo. These troops came
forward to wish us success, and our band struck up the _fall of Paris_.
The third division occupied the trenches, and the garrison must have
observed the march of the light division from the ramparts,—extra
troops! The governor should have pondered on it! If he had kept a sharp
look-out, he must have been expecting the assault.
There were two breaches effected in the walls of this town. By the
small breach the large one was taken in reverse.
At half-past six o'clock the light division was formed behind the
convent of Saint Francisco, near the suburb, and almost exactly
opposite to the small breach, and about four hundred yards from it. The
third division, under General Sir Thomas Picton, was also formed behind
the ruins of Santa Cruz, and in the trenches opposite the large breach.
All was silent, four or five shells excepted, which were thrown by the
enemy into our left battery, and fell not a great distance from our
column. Now, if the governor thought that the assault was preparing, he
ought not to have fired at all from the ramparts, as it prevented the
approach of the troops from being discovered by the ear.
I heard the town-clock strike seven, and at the same time saw a match
lighted in one of the embrasures—(very awful!) at that moment the
"forlorn hope," headed by Lieut. Gurwood, of the 52d, and the storming
party (composed of three hundred soldiers, with a proportion of
officers) moved on, carrying a number of bags, filled with dried grass,
to lessen the depth of the _fausse braie_ and the ditch. In a few
minutes they were on the brink of the ditch, and the fire of the town
opened briskly on them. There was a sort of check, but no longer than
might be expected, as they had to scramble in and out of the _fausse
braie_, and then to jump into the dry ditch; but having gone too far
to the left, the advance got on the wrong side of the tower, which was
not breached, and the soldiers, for a few seconds, were knocking with
the butt-ends of their fire locks against the wall, crying out "Where's
the breach?" for although the enemy were firing rapidly from the top of
the wall, still the troops, on first descending to the bottom of the
ditch, were in total darkness. This state of suspense lasted, however,
a very short time, for two soldiers, stumbling on the loose rubbish,
called out "Here's the breach," and Lieut. Gurwood[16] led up it; but
the French swore they should not enter, and fought most desperately on
the crest of the breach, throwing down large stones and missiles, and
keeping up a most deadly fire. Here many brave officers and soldiers
fell. General Craufurd received a mortal wound, and fell into his
aide-de-camp's arms, on the glacis, while cheering on the main body
of the division. Major General Vandeleur and Colonel Colborne were
wounded. How the troops contrived to force the breach I know not: I can
only say that it was well done. The breach was exceedingly steep: about
five yards wide at the top, having a cannon, of heavy calibre, placed
sideways, to block up the passage; however, there was a clear yard from
the muzzle of the gun to the wall, a sufficient space for one or two
soldiers to enter at a time, besides those who could pass underneath
the muzzle of the gun, or over the wheels of the carriage.
The moment the division entered, a number of soldiers rushed to the
right, along the ramparts, to the large breach (_one hundred and fifty
yards_), and then engaging those of the French who were still firing
on the third division, absolutely drove them over the breast-work, on
to the large breach. At this time a wooden spare magazine, placed on
the rampart, exploded, and blew up some French grenadiers, and many
of the light division. Lieutenant Pattenson, of the 43d, and Lieut.
Uniacke, of the rifle corps, were of the number. This occurred just
behind the traverse, which, on the enemy's right, confined and guarded
the great breach.
On ascending the small breach, directly after it was carried, I found
myself with the crowd. Lieut.-Colonel M'Leod managed to collect, with
the assistance of some other officers, on the rampart about two hundred
soldiers of our regiment, and was exhorting them to keep together. At
this time there was not any firing on us, with the exception of a few
stray shots from the opposite buildings; but there was sharp musketry
still at the great breach.
I ran towards the large breach, and met an officer slowly walking
between two soldiers of the rifle corps. I asked who it was, when he
faintly replied, "Uniacke[17]," and walked on. One of his eyes was
blown out, and the flesh was torn off his arms and legs. He had taken
chocolate, with our mess, an hour and a half before!
The regiment was now formed, and Colonel M'Leod immediately detached
officers with guards, to take possession of all the stores they could
find, and to preserve order. These parties ultimately dissolved
themselves. If they had not done so, they would have been engaged in
the streets with our own troops.
Colonel M'Leod caused Lieutenant Madden, of the 43d, to descend the
small breach with twenty-five men, ordering him to continue at the
foot of it during the night, and to prevent soldiers leaving the town
with plunder. At eleven o'clock I went to see him; he had no sinecure,
and had very judiciously made a large fire, which, of course, showed
the delinquents to perfection, who were attempting to quit the town
with plunder, in the garb of friars, nuns, or enveloped in silk
counterpanes, or loaded with silver forks, spoons, and church plate,
all of which was of course taken from them, and was piled up, to hand
over to the proper authorities on the following day. He told me that no
masquerade could, in point of costume and grotesque figures, rival the
characters he stripped that night.
The fire was large, and surrounded by the dead bodies of those who fell
in the first onset at the foot of the breach. The troops must have
rushed up and taken the latter without hesitation: had the governor
of the town only placed a few obstacles on the crest of the breach,
he must have stopped the entrance of the light division altogether.
He had time, as the firing from our batteries ceased two hours before
the assault, and then from the rampart there was a gentle slope into
the town, leading into a narrow lane, which was blocked up with a cart
only, leaving a sufficient space for one person to pass at a time. The
Governor was most culpable! There was no musquetry from any part of
the ramparts until the head of the light division column was close to
the small breach.—Amongst others lay Captain Dobbs, of the 52d, on
his back, at the foot of the breach, and stripped of his uniform. An
officer at first thought he was a Frenchman, who had tumbled headlong
during the strife from the top of the breach; but, while he was holding
a piece of lighted wood, to contemplate, with admiration, his extremely
placid and handsome countenance, even in death, a captain of the 52d
knew it to be the body of poor Dobbs. On lifting him up, the blood
flowed copiously from his back, a musket ball having entered at the
breast, and passed through his body.—A soldier of the third division
came up to me and said, "Captain Hardyman, of the 45th, is killed!" for
although three generals and seventy other officers had fallen, yet the
soldiers fresh from the strife talked of him; and if a soldier's praise
can add to a man's fame, certainly no one had a greater share than
Hardyman; he was the real type of a soldier, and kind to every one.
When the troops had sipped the wine and the Cogniac brandy in the
stores, the extreme disorders commenced. To restore order was
impossible; a whole division could not have done it. Three or four
large houses were on fire, two of them were in the market-place, and
the town was illuminated by the flames. The soldiers were drunk, and
many of them for amusement were firing from the windows into the
streets. I was talking to the regimental barber, private Evans, in the
square, when a ball passed through his head. This was at one o'clock
in the morning. He fell at my feet dead, and his brains lay on the
pavement. I then sought shelter, and found Colonel M'Leod with a few
officers in a large house, where we remained until daylight. I did not
enter any other house in Ciudad Rodrigo; and if I had not seen, I never
could have supposed that British soldiers would become so wild and
furious. It was quite alarming to meet groups of them in the streets,
flushed as they were with drink, and desperate in mischief.
On the morning of the 20th the scene was dreary; the fires just going
out; and about the streets were lying the corpses of many men who had
met their death hours after the town had been taken. At eleven o'clock,
I went to look at the great breach. The ascent was not so steep as
that of the small one, but there was a traverse thrown up at each side
of it on the rampart; hence there was no way into the town, as the wall
was quite perpendicular behind the breach. When the third division
had gained the top of the rampart, they were in a manner enclosed and
hemmed in, and had no where to go, while the enemy continued to fire
upon them from some old ruined houses, only twenty yards distant.
I counted more than sixty-three soldiers of the third division lying
dead on the _terre-plein_ of the rampart exactly between the traverses
I have already described. I did not see one dead soldier of that
division on the French side of those traverses; but I saw some of the
light division.
I saw General M'Kinnon lying dead on his back, just under the rampart,
on the inside, that is, the town side. He was stripped of every thing
except his shirt and blue pantaloons; even his boots were taken off.
He was a tall thin man. There were no others dead near him, and he
was not on the French side of the traverse either, nor was there any
possibility of getting at the General without a ladder, or traversing
a considerable distance along the ramparts to descend into the town,
and then passing through several narrow lanes, ruined houses, and over
broken stone walls being a distance of at least a quarter of a mile,
and what no human being could have accomplished during the night. It is
said that he was blown up. I should say not. There was no appearance
indicating that such had been his fate. Neither the state of his skin
nor the posture in which he was lying, led me to think it. When a man
is blown up, his hands and face, I should think, could not escape. I
never saw any whose face was not scorched. M'Kinnon's was pale, and
free from the marks of fire. How strange, that with the exception
of the General, I did not see a soldier of the third division who
had been stripped! Neither was there any officer among the dead, or
else they had been carried away. I should not wonder, (if it is not
uncharitable,) that the General had been killed with all the others
between the traverses, and that some _tender-hearted_, follower of the
army had taken his clothes off, and then just given him a hand over the
wall, and so placed him in the position described.
The two divisions attacked without knapsacks. The greater portion
of the light division lay at the foot of the _small breach_ in the
ditch; hence it was that they fought on the slope, and rolled down in
succession as they were killed; but, on gaining the ramparts (there
being no interior defences) they followed the French right and left,
who retreated, panic-struck, into the interior of the city, keeping
up, however, a running fire from the different streets, or the massive
stone buildings.
The third division, at the first onset, were fired on from the parapets
of the ramparts, and assailed by missiles and live shells, which were
rolled from the summit of the wall: but the enemy did not stand on the
crest of the great breach to oppose their ascent; for, if they had, it
would have been impossible to escape behind their traverses. The enemy
had left a space for one man to pass at a time, on the left of the
right traverse, but expecting the attack, they had previously blocked
it up with barrels filled with earth, having placed others behind to
stand on for the purpose of firing over them. Before the morning, all
these barrels, except one, were thrown down the scarped wall. The
fact is, that the third division mounted to the _terre-plein_ with
facility; but when on the rampart, they were fired on in front and both
flanks, as before described, and in this small space, they suffered a
tremendous loss of nearly five hundred heroic officers and soldiers.
During the fighting, their dead and wounded were piled one on the top
of the other, crying out in agony as they were trampled upon, and
impeding the progress of others, who exerted themselves in vain amongst
such havoc to carry the traverses.
The moment the wooden magazine blew up, all firing nearly ceased,
for the enemy literally jumped over the right entrenchment on to the
_terre-plein_ of the great breach, to save themselves from the bayonets
of the light division. A young Italian officer there seized Captain
Hopkins, of the 43rd, round the neck, and implored his life.
At about eleven o'clock in the morning (of the 20th) the great
explosion took place a few yards to the right of the _small breach_,
blowing up the _terre-plein_ of the rampart, four yards in breadth
and ten in length. This fatal explosion (which was accidental, owing
to some sparks of fire igniting some barrels of gunpowder in a
casement,) happened while the French garrison were marching out of
the city by the _small breach_, which had become so hard, owing to
such numbers of soldiers walking up and down it, as to make the ascent
nearly impracticable. The French, as well as the British soldiers,
were carried up into the air, or jammed amongst the rubbish, some
with heads, arms, or legs sticking out of the earth. I saw one of the
unfortunate soldiers in a blanket, with his _face_, _head_, and _body_,
as black as a coal, and cased in a black substance like a shell; his
features were no longer distinguishable, and all the hair was singed
from off his head, but still the unfortunate man was alive. How long he
lived in this horrible situation I cannot say.
A tall athletic soldier of the 52d lay amongst the dead at the foot of
the breach, on his back; his arms and legs being at their full extent.
The top of his head, from the forehead to the back part of his skull,
was split in twain, and the cavity of the head entirely emptied of the
brains, as if a hand-grenade had exploded within, and expanded the
skull, till it had forced it into a separation with the parts ragged
like a saw, leaving a gaping aperture nine inches in length, and four
in breadth. For a considerable time I looked on this horrible fracture,
to define, if possible, by what missile or instrument so wonderful a
wound could have been inflicted; but without being able to come to any
conclusion as to the probable cause.
From this place I walked to the convent of Saint Francisco to see a
wounded friend. The interior was crowded with wounded soldiers lying on
the hard pavement. A soldier of the third division was sitting against
a pillar, his head bent forward, and his chin resting on his breast,
his eyes open, and an agreeable smile on his countenance. For half a
minute I stopped with surprise to observe him sitting in so contented
a posture, surrounded by the groans of his companions. At length, I
addressed him, but, no answer being returned, I called a doctor, under
the impression that the man was delirious. On the contrary, we found he
was quite dead.
In the afternoon we returned to our quarters by regiments across the
stone bridge, having been relieved by the fifth division, which came
from the rear, and took charge of the city.
A few days after the assault, most of the officers of the light
division attended General Craufurd's funeral. He was buried under the
wall near the small breach.
In a few days we moved from La Encina to El Bodon, where our principal
amusement consisted in playing at rackets, with wooden bats, against
the side of the church, or riding about the country.
One day we visited the heights about half a league from this place,
where, on the previous September, a brigade of the third division had
been engaged. Many skeletons of the French horses lay in deep ravines,
or on the shelvings of rocks, to the very summit of the ridge, on
the crest of which some of the Portuguese gunners were cut down; and
where for a short time the cannon remained in the hands of the enemy.
It must have been at this moment that the second battalion of the
fifth regiment retook them by charging in line, before the enemy's
cavalry had time to form. I rode up the ragged ground myself with
the utmost difficulty; the ground near the summit was so steep that
the Portuguese, while throwing balls into the valley, could not see
the advance of the French cavalry until quite upon them. Not that I
wish to detract from the deserts of the Portuguese; but, as it has
been stated that they stood to their guns to the last, I only wish to
demonstrate how it happened. The very print of the wheels of the cannon
were still indented in the ground, and showed, to an inch, where they
had stood.
The whole of the dead French soldiers lying in the valley were
stripped, and in a perfect state of preservation, blanched like
parchment by the alternate rain and sunshine; and their skins had
become so hard, that the bodies on being touched sounded like a drum.
The vultures had picked the bones of the horses perfectly clean, but
had left the soldiers untouched; and, although _four months_ had
elapsed since they had fallen, their features were as perfect as on
the day they were killed. Some of these soldiers were gracefully
proportioned, and extended in every possible attitude.
The rubbish of the breaches at Ciudad Rodrigo having been cleared away,
the parapets built up with gabions and fascines, all the trenches
filled up, and a garrison of Spanish soldiers left for its defence—at
the latter end of February we marched towards Badajoz, for the purpose
of laying siege to that fortress, a distance of one hundred and sixty
miles, the road more than half way lying through the rocky provinces
of Portugal, where the villages are generally built on the tops of the
highest mountains, with the remains of Moorish castles, or towers,
studding the wildest rocks and the most tremendous precipices.
We remained a week at Castello de Vida, then resumed our march, and,
on the 16th of March, entered Elvas, the principal fortress on the
frontier of the Alentéjo, three leagues distant from Badajoz. It is
situated on a hill, flanked on the right by a fort or citadel, half a
mile without its walls, and on the left by the fort La Lippe, which
stands on a scarped hill, a mile from the town.
While quartering off the soldiers, I observed a very pretty young lady
looking out of a casement, which occasioned her house to be selected
for our quarter. In the evening, myself and messmate were invited to
take chocolate and sweetmeats with the family; and, before retiring,
the good old _Senhora_ remarked our youthful appearance, and begged
that, should either of us be wounded, we would come to her house. My
companion was subsequently shot through the body, and, being conveyed
back to Elvas, the mother and daughter kindly watched over him until he
was perfectly recovered.
[Footnote 14: Now Major General Sir John Colborne.]
[Footnote 15: During the siege, the enemy threw a vast quantity of
shells. One night two mortars kept up an incessant discharge; and
the soldiers called out "Here comes a shell from _big Tom_; and here
comes another from _little Tom_." All the cannon shot that flew over
our trenches lodged on a hill one mile north of the town, at the base
of which was a _spring_, where I saw a soldier killed while stooping
down to fill his canteen with water. This hill, owing to its being
so ploughed up with balls, was familiarly named by the soldiers
_plumb-pudding hill_.]
[Footnote 16: Lieutenant Gurwood took the governor of the fortress
prisoner.]
[Footnote 17: He died in excruciating agony.]