Storm of Ciudad Rodrigo—Gallant conduct of three soldiers of the
88th—Desperate struggle and capture of a gun—Combat between
Lieutenant Faris and the French grenadier—A Connaught Ranger
transformed into a sweep—Anecdote of Captain Robert Hardyman of the
45th—Death of General Mackinnon—Plunder of Ciudad Rodrigo—Excesses
of the soldiers.
The burst of enthusiasm caused by Picton’s address to the Connaught
Rangers had scarcely ceased, when the signal-gun announced that the
attack was to commence. Generals Picton and Mackinnon dismounted from
their horses, and placing themselves at the head of the right brigade,
the troops rapidly entered the trenches by sections right in front; the
storming party under the command of Major Russell Manners of the 74th
heading it, while the forlorn hope, commanded by Lieutenant William
Mackie of the 88th, and composed of twenty volunteers from the Connaught
Rangers, led the van, followed closely by the 45th, 88th, and 74th
British, and the 9th and 21st Portuguese; the 77th and 83rd British,
belonging to the left brigade, brought up the rear and completed the
dispositions.
While these arrangements were effecting opposite the grand breach, the
5th and 94th, belonging to the left brigade of the 3rd Division, were
directed to clear the ramparts and Fausse Braye wall, and the 2nd
Regiment of Portuguese Caçadores, commanded by an Irish colonel of the
name of O‘Toole, was to escalade the curtain to the left of the lesser
breach, which was attacked by the Light Division under the command of
General Robert Craufurd.
It wanted ten minutes to seven o’clock when these dispositions were
completed; the moon occasionally, as the clouds which overcast it passed
away, shed a faint ray of light upon the battlements of the fortress,
and presented to our view the glittering of the enemy’s bayonets as
their soldiers stood arrayed upon the ramparts and breach, awaiting our
attack; yet, nevertheless, their batteries were silent, and might
warrant the supposition to an unobservant spectator that the defence
would be but feeble.
The two divisions got clear of the covered way at the same moment, and
each advanced to the attack of their respective points with the utmost
regularity. The obstacles which presented themselves to both were nearly
the same, but every difficulty, no matter how great, merged into
insignificance when placed in the scale of the prize about to be
contested. The soldiers were full of ardour, but altogether devoid of
that blustering and bravadoing which is truly unworthy of men at such a
moment; and it would be difficult to convey an adequate idea of the
enthusiastic bravery which animated the troops. A cloud that had for
some time before obscured the moon, which was at its full, disappeared
altogether, and the countenances of the soldiers were for the first
time, since Picton addressed them, visible—they presented a material
change. In place of that joyous animation which his fervid and
impressive address called forth, a look of severity, bordering on
ferocity, had taken its place; and although ferocity is by no means one
of the characteristics of the British soldier, there was, most
unquestionably, a savage expression in the faces of the men that I had
never before witnessed. Such is the difference between the storm of a
breach and the fighting a pitched battle.
Once clear of the covered way, and fairly on the plain that separated it
from the fortress, the enemy had a full view of all that was passing;
their batteries, charged to the muzzle with case-shot, opened a
murderous fire upon the columns as they advanced, but nothing could
shake the intrepid bravery of the troops. The Light Division soon
descended the ditch and gained, although not without a serious struggle,
the top of the narrow and difficult breach allotted to them; their
gallant General, Robert Craufurd, fell at the head of the 43rd, and his
second in command, General Vandeleur, was severely wounded, but there
were not wanting others to supply their place; yet these losses, trying
as they were to the feelings of the soldiers, in no way damped their
ardour, and the brave Light Division carried the left breach at the
point of the bayonet. Once established upon the ramparts, they made all
the dispositions necessary to ensure their own conquest, as also to
render every assistance in their power to the 3rd Division in their
attack. They cleared the rampart which separated the lesser from the
grand breach, and relieved Picton’s division from any anxiety it might
have as to its safety on its left flank.
The right brigade, consisting of the 45th, 88th, and 74th, forming the
van of the 3rd Division, upon reaching the ditch, to its astonishment,
found Major Ridge and Colonel Campbell at the head of the 5th and 94th
mounting the Fausse Braye wall. These two regiments, after having
performed their task of silencing the fire of the French troops upon the
ramparts, with a noble emulation resolved to precede their comrades in
the attack of the grand breach. Both parties greeted each other with a
cheer, only to be understood by those who have been placed in a similar
situation; yet the enemy were in no way daunted by the shout raised by
our soldiers—they crowded the breach, and defended it with a bravery
that would have made any but troops accustomed to conquer, waver. But
the “fighting division” were not the men to be easily turned from their
purpose; the breach was speedily mounted, yet, nevertheless, a serious
affray took place ere it was gained. A considerable mass of infantry
crowned its summit, while in the rear and at each side were stationed
men, so placed that they could render every assistance to their comrades
at the breach without any great risk to themselves; besides this, two
guns of heavy calibre, separated from the breach by a ditch of
considerable depth and width, enfiladed it, and as soon as the French
infantry were forced from the summit, these guns opened their fire on
our troops.
The head of the column had scarcely gained the top, when a discharge of
grape cleared the ranks of the three leading battalions, and caused a
momentary wavering; at the same instant a frightful explosion near the
gun to the left of the breach, which shook the bastion to its
foundation, completed the disorder. Mackinnon, at the head of his
brigade, was blown into the air. His aide-de-camp, Lieutenant Beresford
of the 88th, shared the same fate, and every man on the breach at the
moment of the explosion perished. This was unavoidable, because those of
the advance, being either killed or wounded, were necessarily flung back
upon the troops that followed close upon their footsteps, and there was
not a sufficient space for the men who were ready to sustain those
placed _hors de combat_ to rally. For an instant all was confusion; the
blaze of light caused by the explosion resembled a huge meteor, and
presented to our sight the havoc which the enemy’s fire had caused in
our ranks; while from afar the astonished Spaniard viewed for an
instant, with horror and dismay, the soldiers of the two nations
grappling with each other on the top of the rugged breach which trembled
beneath their feet, while the fire of the French artillery played upon
our columns with irresistible fury, sweeping from the spot the living
and the dead. Amongst the latter was Captain Robert Hardyman and
Lieutenant Pearse of the 45th, and many more whose names I cannot
recollect. Others were so stunned by the shock, or wounded by the stones
which were hurled forth by the explosion, that they were insensible to
their situation; of this number I was one, for being close to the
magazine when it blew up, I was quite overpowered, and I owed my life to
the Sergeant-Major of my regiment, Thorp, who saved me from being
trampled to death by our soldiers in their advance, ere I could recover
strength sufficient to move forward or protect myself.
The French, animated by this accidental success, hastened once more to
the breach which they had abandoned, but the leading regiments of
Picton’s division, which had been disorganised for the moment by the
explosion, rallied, and soon regained its summit, when another discharge
from the two flank guns swept away the foremost of those battalions.
There was at this time but one officer alive upon the breach (Major
Thomson, of the 74th, acting engineer); he called out to those next to
him to seize the gun to the left, which had been so fatal to his
companions—but this was a desperate service. The gun was completely cut
off from the breach by a deep trench, and soldiers, encumbered with
their firelocks, could not pass it in sufficient time to anticipate the
next discharge—yet to deliberate was certain death. The French
cannoniers, five in number, stood to, and served their gun with as much
_sang froid_ as if on a parade, and the light which their torches threw
forth showed to our men the peril they would have to encounter if they
dared to attack a gun so defended; but this was of no avail. Men going
to storm a breach generally make up their minds that there is no great
probability of their ever returning from it to tell their adventures to
their friends; and whether they die at the bottom or top of it, or at
the muzzle, or upon the breech of a cannon, is to them pretty nearly the
same!
The first who reached the top, after the last discharge, were three of
the 88th. Sergeant Pat Brazil—the brave Brazil of the Grenadier company,
who saved his captain’s life at Busaco—called out to his two companions,
Swan and Kelly, to unscrew their bayonets and follow him; the three men
passed the trench in a moment, and engaged the French cannoniers hand to
hand; a terrific but short combat was the consequence. Swan was the
first, and was met by the two gunners on the right of the gun, but, no
way daunted, he engaged them, and plunged his bayonet into the breast of
one; he was about to repeat the blow upon the other, but before he could
disentangle the weapon from his bleeding adversary, the second Frenchman
closed upon him, and by a _coup de sabre_ severed his left arm from his
body a little above the elbow; he fell from the shock, and was on the
eve of being massacred, when Kelly, after having scrambled under the
gun, rushed onward to succour his comrade. He bayoneted two Frenchmen on
the spot, and at this instant Brazil came up; three of the five gunners
lay lifeless, while Swan, resting against an ammunition chest, was
bleeding to death. It was now equal numbers, two against two, but Brazil
in his over-anxiety to engage was near losing his life at the onset; in
making a lunge at the man next to him, his foot slipped upon the bloody
platform, and he fell forward against his antagonist, but as both rolled
under the gun, Brazil felt the socket of his bayonet strike hard against
the buttons of the Frenchman’s coat. The remaining gunner, in attempting
to escape under the carriage from Kelly, was killed by some soldiers of
the 5th, who just now reached the top of the breach, and seeing the
serious dispute at the gun, pressed forward to the assistance of the
three men of the Connaught Rangers.
While this was taking place on the left, the head of the column
remounted the breach, and regardless of the cries of their wounded
companions, whom they indiscriminately trampled to death, pressed
forward in one irregular but heroic mass, and putting every man to death
who opposed their progress, forced the enemy from the ramparts at the
bayonet’s point. Yet the garrison still rallied, and defended the
several streets with the most unflinching bravery; nor was it until the
musketry of the Light Division was heard in the direction of the Plaza
Mayor, that they gave up the contest! but from this moment all regular
resistance ceased, and they fled in disorder to the Citadel. There were,
nevertheless, several minor combats in the streets, and in many
instances the inhabitants fired from the windows, but whether their
efforts were directed against us or the French is a point that I do not
feel myself competent to decide; be this as it may, many lives were lost
on both sides by this circumstance, for the Spaniards, firing without
much attention to regularity, killed or wounded indiscriminately all who
came within their range.
During a contest of such a nature, kept up in the night, as may be
supposed, much was of necessity left to the guidance of the subordinate
officers, if not to the soldiers themselves. Each affray in the streets
was conducted in the best manner the moment would admit of, and decided
more by personal valour than discipline, and in some instances officers
as well as privates had to combat with the imperial troops. In one of
these encounters Lieutenant George Faris, of the 88th, by an accident so
likely to occur in an affair of this kind, separated a little too far
from a dozen or so of his regiment, and found himself opposed to a
French soldier who, apparently, was similarly placed. It was a curious
coincidence, and it would seem as if each felt that he individually was
the representative of the country to which he belonged; and had the fate
of the two nations hung upon the issue of the combat I am about to
describe, it could not have been more heroically contested. The
Frenchman fired at and wounded Faris in the thigh, and made a desperate
push with his bayonet at his body, but Faris parried the thrust, and the
bayonet only lodged in his leg. He saw at a glance the peril of his
situation, and that nothing short of a miracle could save him; the odds
against him were too great, and if he continued a scientific fight he
must inevitably be vanquished. He sprang forward, and, seizing hold of
the Frenchman by the collar, a struggle of a most nervous kind took
place; in their mutual efforts to gain an advantage they lost their
caps, and as they were men of nearly equal strength, it was doubtful
what the issue would be. They were so entangled with each other their
weapons were of no avail, but Faris at length disengaged himself from
the grasp which held him, and he was able to use his sabre; he pushed
the Frenchman from him, and ere he could recover himself he laid his
head open nearly to the chin. His sword-blade, a heavy, soft, ill-made
Portuguese one, was doubled up with the force of the blow, and retained
some pieces of the skull and clotted hair! At this moment I reached the
spot with about twenty men, composed of different regiments, all being
by this time mixed _pell mell_ with each other. I ran up to Faris—he was
nearly exhausted, but he was safe. The French grenadier lay upon the
pavement, while Faris, though tottering from fatigue, held his sword
firmly in his grasp, and it was crimson to the hilt. The appearance of
the two combatants was frightful!—one lying dead on the ground, the
other faint from agitation and loss of blood; but the soldiers loudly
applauded him, and the feeling uppermost with them was, that our man had
the best of it! It was a shocking sight, but it would be rather a
hazardous experiment to begin moralising at such a moment and in such a
place.
Those of the garrison who escaped death were made prisoners, and the
necessary guards being placed, and everything secured, the troops not
selected for duty commenced a very diligent search for those articles
which they most fancied, and which they considered themselves entitled
to by “right of conquest.” I believe on a service such as the present,
there is a sort of tacit acknowledgment of this “right”; but be this as
it may, a good deal of property most indubitably changed owners on the
night of the 19th of January 1812. The conduct of the soldiers, too,
within the last hour, had undergone a complete change; before, it was
all order and regularity, now it was nothing but licentiousness and
confusion—subordination was at an end; plunder and blood was the order
of the day, and many an officer on this night was compelled to show that
he carried a sabre.
The doors of the houses in a large Spanish town are remarkable for their
strength, and resemble those of a prison more than anything else; their
locks are of huge dimensions, and it is a most difficult task to force
them. The mode adopted by the men of my regiment (the 88th) in this
dilemma was as effective as it was novel; the muzzles of a couple of
muskets were applied to each side of the keyhole, while a third soldier,
fulfilling the functions of an officer, deliberately gave the word,
“make ready”—“present”—“fire!” and in an instant the ponderous lock gave
way before the combined operations of the three individuals, and doors
that rarely opened to the knock of a stranger in Rodrigo, now flew off
their hinges to receive the Rangers of Connaught.
The chapels and chandlers' houses were the first captured, in both of
which was found a most essential ingredient in the shape of large wax
candles; these the soldiers lighted, and commenced their perambulations
in search of plunder, and the glare of light which they threw across the
faces of the men, as they carried them through the streets, displayed
their countenances, which were of that cast that might well terrify the
unfortunate inhabitants. Many of the soldiers with their faces scorched
by the explosion of the magazine at the grand breach; others with their
lips blackened from biting off the ends of their cartridges, more
covered with blood, and all looking ferocious, presented a combination
sufficient to appal the stoutest heart.
Scenes of the greatest outrage now took place, and it was pitiable to
see groups of the inhabitants half naked in the streets—the females
clinging to the officers for protection—while their respective houses
were undergoing the strictest scrutiny. Some of the soldiers turned to
the wine and spirit houses, where, having drunk sufficiently, they again
sallied out in quest of more plunder; others got so intoxicated that
they lay in a helpless state in different parts of the town, and lost
what they had previously gained, either by the hands of any passing
Spaniard, who could venture unobserved to stoop down, or by those of
their own companions, who in their wandering surveys happened to
recognise a comrade lying with half a dozen silk gowns, or some such
thing, wrapped about him. Others wished to attack the different stores,
and as there is something marvellously attractive in the very name of a
brandy one, it is not to be wondered at that many of our heroes turned
not only their thoughts, but their steps also, in the direction in which
these houses lay; and from the unsparing hand with which they supplied
themselves, it might be imagined they intended to change their habits of
life and turn spirit-venders, and that too in the wholesale line!
It was astonishing to see with what rapidity and accuracy these fellows
traversed the different parts of the town, and found out the shops and
storehouses. A stranger would have supposed they were natives of the
place, and it was not until the following morning that I discovered the
cause of what was to me before incomprehensible.
In all military movements in a country which an army is not thoroughly
acquainted with, (and why not in a large town?) there are no more useful
appendages than good guides. Lord Wellington was most particular on this
point, and had attached to his army a corps of this description. I
suppose it was this knowledge of tactics which suggested to the soldiers
the necessity of so wise a precaution; accordingly, every group of
individuals was preceded by a Spaniard, who, upon learning the species
of plunder wished for by his employers, instantly conducted them to the
most favourable ground for their operations. By this means the houses
were unfurnished with less confusion than can be supposed; and had it
not been for the state of intoxication that some of the young
soldiers—mere tyros in the art of sacking a town—had indulged themselves
in, it is inconceivable with what facility the city of Ciudad Rodrigo
would have been eased of its superfluities. And the _conducteur_ himself
was not always an idle spectator. Many of these fellows realised
something considerable from their more wealthy neighbours, and being
also right well paid by the soldiers, who were liberal enough, they
found themselves in the morning in far better circumstances than they
had been the preceding night, so that all things considered, there were
about as many cheerful faces as sad ones. But although the inhabitants
were, by this sort of transfer, put more on an equality with each other,
the town itself was greatly impoverished. Many things of value were
destroyed, but in the hurry so natural to the occasion, many also
escaped; besides, our men were as yet young hands in the arcana of
plundering a town in that _au fait_ manner with which a French army
would have done a business of the sort: but they most unquestionably
made up for their want of tact by the great inclination they showed to
profit by any occasion that offered itself for their improvement.
By some mistake, a large spirit store situated in the Plaza Mayor took
fire, and the flames spreading with incredible fury, despite of the
exertions of the troops, the building was totally destroyed; but in this
instance, like many others which we are obliged to struggle against
through life, there was a something that neutralised the disappointment
which the loss of so much brandy occasioned the soldiers: the light
which shone forth from the building was of material service to them,
inasmuch as it tended to facilitate their movements in their excursions
for plunder; the heat also was far from disagreeable, for the night was
piercingly cold, yet, nevertheless, the soldiers exerted themselves to
the utmost to put a stop to this calamity. General Picton was to be seen
in the midst of them, encouraging them by his example and presence to
make still greater efforts; but all would not do, and floor after floor
fell in, until at last it was nothing but a burning heap of ruins.
Some houses were altogether saved from plunder by the interference of
the officers, for in several instances the women ran out into the
streets, and seizing hold of three or four of us, would force us away to
their houses, and by this stroke of political hospitality saved their
property. A good supper was then provided, and while all outside was
noise and pillage, affairs within went on agreeably enough. These
instances were, however, but few.
In the house where I and four other officers remained, we fared
remarkably well, and were passing the night greatly to our satisfaction,
when we were aroused by a noise like a crash of something heavy falling
in the apartment above us. As may be supposed, we did not remain long
without seeking to ascertain the cause of this disturbance; the whole
party sprang up at once—the family of the house secreting themselves
behind the different pieces of furniture, while we, _sabre à la main_,
and some with lights, advanced towards the apartment from whence the
noise proceeded; but all was silent within. Captain Seton of my corps
proposed that the door should be forced, but he had scarcely pronounced
the words, when a voice from within called out, not in Spanish or
French, but in plain English, with a rich Irish brogue, “Oh, Jasus, is
it you, Captain?” On entering we found a man of the Connaught Rangers,
belonging to Seton’s company, standing before us, so disfigured by soot
and filth that it was impossible to recognise his uniform, much less his
face—his voice was the only thing recognisable about him, and that only
to his Captain; and had it not been for that, he might have passed for
one just arrived from the infernal regions, and it may be questioned
whether or not the place he had quitted might not be so denominated. It
appeared, from the account he gave of himself, that he had been upon a
plundering excursion in one of the adjoining houses, the roof of which,
like most of those in Rodrigo, was flat; and wishing to have a distinct
view of all that was passing in the streets, he took up his position
upon the top of the house he had entered, and not paying due attention
to where he put his foot, he contrived to get it into the chimney of the
house we occupied, and, ere he could resume his centre of gravity, he
tumbled headlong down the chimney and caused us all the uneasiness I
have been describing. His _tout ensemble_ was as extraordinary as his
adventure. He had eighteen or twenty pairs of shoes round his waist, and
amongst other things a case of trepanning instruments, which he
immediately offered as a present to his Captain! Had the grate of this
fireplace been what is called in England the “Rumford grate,” this poor
fellow must have been irretrievably lost to the service, because it is
manifest, encumbered as he was, he would have stuck fast, and must
inevitably have been suffocated before assistance could be afforded him;
but, fortunately for him, the chimney was of sufficient dimensions to
admit an elephant to pass down it, and, in truth, one not so constructed
would have been altogether too confined for him.
Morning at length began to dawn, and with it the horrors of the previous
night’s assault were visible. The troops not on guard were directed to
quit the town, but this was not a command they obeyed with the same
cheerfulness or expedition which they evinced when ordered to enter it;
in their eyes it had many attractions still, and, besides, the soldiers
had become so unwieldy from the immense burdens they carried, it was
scarcely possible for many of them to stir, much less march. However, by
degrees the evacuation of the fortress took place, and towards noon it
was effected altogether.
The breaches presented a horrid spectacle. The one forced by the Light
Division was narrower than the other, and the dead, lying in a smaller
compass, looked more numerous than they really were. I walked along the
ramparts towards the grand breach, and was examining the effects our
fire had produced on the different defences and the buildings in their
immediate vicinity, but I had not proceeded far when I was shocked at
beholding about a hundred and thirty or forty wounded Frenchmen, lying
under one of the bastions and some short distance up a narrow street
adjoining it. I descended, and learned that these men had been
performing some particular duty in the magazine which blew up and killed
General Mackinnon and so many of the 3rd Division. These miserable
beings were so burnt that I fear, notwithstanding the considerate
attention which was paid to them by our medical officers, none of their
lives were preserved. Their uniforms were barely distinguishable, and
their swollen heads and limbs gave them a gigantic appearance that was
truly terrific; added to this, the gunpowder had so blackened their
faces that they looked more like a number of huge negroes than soldiers
of an European army. Many of our men hastened to the spot, and with that
compassion which truly brave men always feel, rendered them every
assistance in their power; some were carried on doors, others in
blankets, to the hospitals, and these poor creatures showed by their
gestures, for they could not articulate, how truly they appreciated our
tender care of them.
At length I reached the grand breach—it was covered with many officers
and soldiers; of the former, amongst others, was my old friend Hardyman
of the 45th, and Lieutenant William Pearse of the same regiment; there
were also two of the 5th whose names I forget, and others whose faces
were familiar to me. Hardyman, the once cheerful, gay Bob Hardyman, lay
on his back; half of his head was carried away by one of those
discharges of grape from the flank guns at the breach which were so
destructive to us in our advance; his face was perfect, and even in
death presented its wonted cheerfulness. Poor fellow! he died without
pain, and regretted by all who knew him; his gaiety of spirit never for
an instant forsook him. Up to the moment of the assault he was the same
pleasant Bob Hardyman who delighted every one by his anecdotes, and none
more than my old corps, although many of his jokes were at our expense.
When we were within a short distance of the breach, as we met, he
stopped for an instant to shake hands. “What’s that you have hanging
over your shoulder?” said he, as he espied a canteen of rum which I
carried. “A little rum, Bob,” said I. “Well,” he replied, “I’ll change
my breath; and take my word for it, that in less than five minutes some
of the 'subs' will be scratching a Captain’s ——, for there will be wigs
on the green.” He took a mouthful of rum, and taking me by the hand
squeezed it affectionately, and in ten minutes afterwards he was a
corpse!
The appearance of Pearse was quite different from his companion; ten or
a dozen grape-shot pierced his breast, and he lay, or rather sat, beside
his friend like one asleep, and his appearance was that of a man upwards
of sixty, though his years did not number twenty-five. Hardyman was
stripped to his trousers, but Pearse had his uniform on; his epaulettes
alone had been plundered. I did not see the body of General Mackinnon,
but the place where he fell was easily distinguishable; the vast chasm
which the spot presented resembled an excavation in the midst of a
quarry. The limbs of those who lost their lives by that fatal explosion,
thrown here and there, presented a melancholy picture of the remnants of
those brave men whose hearts but a few short hours before beat high in
the hope of conquest. It was that kind of scene which arrested the
attention of the soldier, and riveted him to the spot; and there were
few who, even in the moment of exultation, did not feel deeply as they
surveyed the mangled remains of their comrades.
I next turned to the captured gun, so chivalrously taken by the three
men of the 88th. The five cannoniers lying across the carriage, or
between the spokes of the wheels, showed how bravely they had defended
it; yet they lay like men whose death had not been caused by violence;
they were naked and bloodless, and the puncture of the bayonet left so
small a mark over their hearts, it was discernible only to those who
examined the bodies closely.
I turned away from the breach, and scrambled over its rugged face, and
the dead which covered it. On reaching the bivouac we had occupied the
preceding evening, I learned, with surprise, that our women had been
engaged in a contest, if not as dangerous as ours, at least one of no
trivial sort. The men left as a guard over the baggage, on hearing the
first shot at the trenches, could not withstand the inclination they
felt to join their companions; and although this act was creditable to
the bravery of the individuals that composed the baggage-guard, it was
nigh being fatal to those who survived, or, at least, to such as had
anything to lose except their lives, for the wretches that infested our
camp attempted to plunder it of all that it possessed, but the women,
with a bravery that would not have disgraced those of ancient Rome,
defended the post with such valour that those miscreants were obliged to
desist, and our baggage was saved in consequence.
We were about to resume our arms when General Picton approached us. Some
of the soldiers, who were more than usually elevated in spirits, on his
passing them, called out, “Well, General, we gave you a cheer last
night; it’s your turn now!” The General, smiling, took off his hat, and
said, “Here, then, you drunken set of brave rascals, hurrah! well soon
be at Badajoz!” A shout of confidence followed; we slung our firelocks,
the bands played, and we commenced our march for the village of Atalaya
in the highest spirits, and in a short time lost sight of a place the
capture of which appeared to us like a dream.