The sacking of Badajoz—Neglect of the wounded—Spaniards and their
plunderers—Disgraceful occurrences—Calamities of war—The author’s
wound and uncomfortable couch—Extent of plunder—An auction in the
field—Neglect of the 88th by General Picton.
Badajoz, one of the richest and most beautiful towns in the south of
Spain, whose inhabitants had witnessed its siege in silent terror for
one-and-twenty days, and who had been shocked by the frightful massacre
that had just taken place at its walls, was now about to be plunged into
all the horrors that are, unfortunately, unavoidable upon an enterprise
such as a town taken by storm. Scarcely had Count Phillipon and his
garrison commenced their march towards Elvas, when the work of pillage
commenced. Some—many indeed—of the good soldiers turned to the ditch of
the castle and to the breaches to assist and carry off their wounded
companions; but hundreds were neglected in the general and absorbing
thirst for plunder.
The appearance of the castle was that of a vast wreck; the various
ladders lying shattered at the base of its walls, the broken piles of
arms, and the brave men that lay as they had fallen—many holding their
firelocks in their grasp—marked strongly the terrible contest in which
they had been engaged, and presented to the eye of a spectator ample
food for reflection. It was not possible to look at those brave men, all
of them dead or frightfully maimed, without recollecting what they had
been but a few short hours before; yet those feelings, fortunately
perhaps, do not predominate with soldiers, and those sights, far from
exciting reflections of a grave nature, more usually call forth some
jocular remark, such as “that he will have no further occasion to draw
rations”; or “that he has stuck his spoon in the wall and left off
messing”—such is the force of habit.
At the breaches, the Light and 4th Division soldiers lay in heaps upon
each other—a still warm group; and many of those veterans, from whom the
vital spark had not yet fled, expired in the arms of the few of their
companions who sought to remove them to a place better suited to their
miserable condition. But war, whatever its numerous attractions to a
young mind may be, is but ill calculated to inspire it with those softer
feelings so essential to soothe us in the moment of our distress; it
must not, therefore, be wondered at that a wish for plunder and
enjoyment took the place of humanity, and that hundreds of gallant men
were left to perish from neglect.
Before six o’clock in the morning of the 7th of April, all organisation
amongst the assaulting columns had ceased, and a scene of plunder and
cruelty, that it would be difficult to find a parallel for, took its
place. The army, so fine and effective on the preceding day, was now
transformed into a vast band of brigands, and the rich and beautiful
city of Badajoz presented the turbulent aspect that must result from the
concourse of numerous and warlike multitudes nearly strangers to each
other, or known only by the name of the nation to which they belonged.
The horde of vagabonds—Spaniards as well as Portuguese, women as well as
men—that now eagerly sought for admission to plunder, nearly augmented
the number of brigands to what the assailing army had reckoned the night
before; and it may be fairly said that twenty thousand people—armed with
full powers to act as they thought fit, and all, or almost all, armed
with weapons which could be turned, at the pleasure or caprice of the
bearer, for the purpose of enforcing any wish he sought to gratify—were
let loose upon the ill-fated inhabitants of this devoted city. These
people were under no restraint, had no person to control them, and in a
short time got into such an awful state of intoxication that they lost
all control over their own actions.
In the first burst, all the wine and spirit stores were forced open and
ransacked from top to bottom; and it required but a short time for the
men to get into that fearful state that was alike dangerous to
all—officers or soldiers, or the inhabitants of the city. Casks of the
choicest wines and brandy were dragged into the streets, and when the
men had drunk as much as they fancied, the heads of the vessels were
stove in, or the casks otherwise so broken that the liquor ran about in
streams.
In the town were a number of animals that belonged to the garrison,
several hundred sheep, numerous oxen, as likewise many horses; these
were amongst the first taken possession of; and the wealthy occupier of
many a house was glad to be allowed the employment of conducting them to
our camp, as, by doing so, he got away from a place where his life was
not worth a minute’s purchase. But terrible as was this scene, it was
not possible to avoid occasionally laughing, for the _conducteur_ was
generally not only obliged to drive a herd of cattle, but also to carry
the bales of plunder taken by his employers—perhaps from his own
house—and the stately gravity with which the Spaniard went through his
work, dressed in short breeches, frilled shirt, and a hat and plumes
that might vie with our eighth Henry, followed, as he was, by our
ragamuffin soldiers with fixed bayonets, presented a scene that would
puzzle even Mr. Cruikshank himself to justly delineate. The plunder so
captured was deposited in our camp, and placed under a guard chiefly
composed of the soldiers' wives.
The shops were rifled, first by one group, who despoiled them of their
most costly articles, then by another, who thought themselves rich in
capturing what had been rejected by their predecessors; then another,
and another still, until every vestige of property was swept away. A few
hours was sufficient for this; night was fast drawing near, and then a
scene took place that has seldom fallen to the lot of any writer to
describe. Every insult, every infamy that human invention could torture
into practice was committed. The following day, the 8th of April, was
also a fearful one for the inhabitants; the soldiers became reckless,
and drank to such an excess that no person’s life, no matter of what
rank, or station, or sex, was safe. If they entered a house that had not
been emptied of all its furniture or wine, they proceeded to destroy it;
or, if it happened to be empty, which was generally the case, they
commenced firing at the doors and windows, and not unfrequently at the
inmates, or at each other! They would then sally forth into the streets,
and fire at the different church-bells in the steeples, or the pigeons
that inhabited the old Moorish turrets of the castle—even the owls were
frighted from this place of refuge, and, by their discordant screams,
announced to their hearers the great revolution that had taken place
near their once peaceful abodes. The soldiers then fired upon their own
comrades, and many men were killed, in endeavouring to carry away some
species of plunder, by the hands of those who, but a few hours before,
would have risked their own lives to protect those they now so wantonly
sported with: then would they turn upon the already too deeply injured
females, and tear from them the trinkets that adorned their necks,
fingers, or ears! and, finally, they would strip them of their wearing
apparel. Some 'tis said there were—ruffians of the lowest grade, no
doubt—who cut the ear-rings out of the ears of the females who bore
them.
Hundreds of those fellows took possession of the best warehouses, and
for a time fulfilled the functions of merchants; those, in their turn,
were ejected by a stronger party, who, after a fearful strife and loss
of lives, displaced them, and occupied their position, and those again
were conquered by others, and others more powerful! and thus was Badajoz
circumstanced on the morning of the 8th of April 1812. It presented a
fearful picture of the horrors that are inevitable upon a city carried
by assault; and although it is painful to relate these disgraceful
facts, it is essential nevertheless. I feel as much pride as any man can
feel in having taken a part in actions that must ever shed lustre upon
my country; but no false feeling of delicacy shall ever prevent me from
speaking the truth—no matter whether it touches the conduct of one man
or ten thousand!
To put a stop to such a frightful scene, it was necessary to use some
forbearance, as likewise a portion of severity. In the first instance,
parties from those regiments that had least participated in the combat
were ordered into the town to collect the hordes of stragglers that
filled its streets with crimes too horrible to detail; but the evil had
spread to such an extent that this measure was inadequate to the end
proposed, and in many instances the parties so sent became infected by
the contagion, and in place of remedying the disorder, increased it, by
joining once more in revels they had for a time quitted. At length a
brigade of troops was marched into the city, and were directed to stand
by their arms while any of the marauders remained; the Provost Marshals
attached to each division were directed to use that authority with which
they are of necessity invested. Gibbets and triangles were in
consequence erected, and many men were flogged, but, although the
contrary has been said, none were hanged—yet hundreds deserved it.
A few hours more were sufficient to purge the town of the infamous gang
of robbers that still lurked about its streets, and those
ruffians—chiefly Spaniards or Portuguese, not in any way attached to the
army—were infinitely more dangerous than our fellows, bad as they were.
Murder—except indeed in a paroxysm of drunkenness, and in many cases, I
regret to say, it did occur in this way—never entered their thoughts,
but the miscreants here referred to would commit the foulest deed for
less than a dollar.
Towards evening tranquillity began to return, and, protected as they now
were by a body of troops untainted by the disease which had spread like
a contagion, the unfortunate inhabitants took advantage of the quiet
that reigned; yet it was a fearful quiet, and might be likened to a ship
at sea, which, after having been plundered and dismasted by pirates, is
left floating on the ocean without a morsel of food to supply the wants
of its crew, or a stitch of canvas to cover its naked masts; by degrees,
however, some clothing, such as decency required, was procured for the
females, by the return of their friends to the town; and many a father
and mother rejoiced to find their children alive, although too often
seriously and grossly injured. But there were also many who were denied
even this sad consolation, for numbers of the townspeople had fallen in
the confusion that prevailed; some of our officers also were killed in
this way, and it has been said, I believe truly, that one, a colonel
commanding a regiment, lost his life by the hands of his own men.
The plunder with which our camp was now filled was so considerable, and
of so varied a description, that numerous as were the purchasers, and
different their wants, they all had, nevertheless, an opportunity of
suiting themselves to their taste; still the auction had not commenced
in form, although, like other markets, “some private sales were
effected.” From the door of my tent I had a partial view of what was
taking place; but for the present I shall leave the _marché_, and
describe how I myself was circumstanced from the period I reached my
tent, wounded, on the morning of the 7th.
The two faithful soldiers, Bray and Macgowan, that conducted me there,
on entering, found my truss of straw, or bed, if the reader will so
allow me to designate it, occupied by Mrs. Nelly Carsons, the wife of my
batman, who, I suppose, by the way of banishing care, had taken to
drinking divers potations of rum to such an excess that she lay down in
my bed, thinking, perhaps, that I was not likely again to be its
occupant; or, more probably, not giving it a thought at all. Macgowan
attempted to wake her, but in vain—a battery of a dozen guns might have
been fired close to her ear without danger of disturbing her repose!
“Why then, sir,” said he, “sure the bed’s big enough for yees both, and
she’ll keep you nate and warm, for, be the powers, you’re kilt with the
cold and the loss ov blood.” I was in no mood to stand on ceremony, or,
indeed, to stand at all. I allowed myself to be placed beside my
partner, without any further persuasion; and the two soldiers left us to
ourselves and returned to the town. Weakness from loss of blood soon
caused me to fall asleep, but it was a sleep of short duration. I awoke,
unable to move, and, in fact, lay like an infant. The fire of small
arms, the screams of the soldiers' wives, and the universal buzz
throughout the camp, acted powerfully upon my nervous and worn-out
frame; but Somnus conquered Mars, for I soon fell into another doze, in
which I might have remained very comfortable had not my companion awoke
sooner than I wished; discharging a huge grunt, and putting her hand
upon my leg, she exclaimed, “Arrah! Dan, jewel, what makes you so stiff
this morning?”
It required but few words from me to undeceive her. Tea and chocolate
were soon in readiness, and having tasted some of the former, I sat up
in my bed waiting the arrival of the first surgeon to dress my wound. My
batman, Dan Carsons, shortly afterwards made his appearance; he led up
to the door of my tent three sheep, and had, moreover, a pig-skin of
enormous size filled with right good wine which the Spaniards call _la
tinta de la Mancha_: “And sure,” said he, “I heard of your being kilt,
and I brought you this (pointing to the pig-skin of wine), thinking what
a nate bolster it i’d be for you while you slept at your aise,” and,
without waiting for my reply, he thrust the pig-skin under my head. “And
look,” said he, shewing me a spigot at the mouth of my bolster, “when
you’re thirsty at-all-at-all, you see nothing is more pleasant or aisy
than to clap this into your mouth, and sure won’t it be mate and dhrink
for you too?”
“Oh, Jasus!” responded Nelly, “he’s kilt out and out; see, Dan, how the
blood is in strames about the blankets.”
A little learning is a dangerous thing,
so—under certain circumstances—is a little laughing! and Dan Carsons and
his wife made me laugh so immoderately, that a violent discharge of
blood from my wound nearly put an end to my career in this world. Had it
not been for the arrival of Dr. Grant, the staff-surgeon of the
division, who just now made his appearance, I doubt much if any of my
readers would ever have had the pleasure of reading these my
reminiscences. But I must have done with myself, Dan Carsons, and his
wife Nelly, and resume my narrative of the sale of the plunder with
which our camp was, to use a mercantile phrase, glutted.
Early on the morning of the 9th of April a great concourse of Spaniards
had already thronged our lines; the neighbouring villages poured in
their quota of persons seeking to be the purchasers of the booty
captured by our men, and each succeeding hour increased the supply for
their wants, numerous and varied as they were, and our camp presented
the appearance of a vast market. The scene after the taking of Rodrigo
was nothing in comparison to the present, because the resources of
Badajoz might be said to be in the ratio of five to one as compared with
her sister fortress, and, besides, our fellows were, in an equal
proportion, more dexterous than they had been in their maiden effort to
relieve Rodrigo of its valuables. It may, therefore, be well supposed,
and the reader may safely take my word for it, that the transfer of
property was, on the present occasion, considerable. Some men realised
upwards of one thousand dollars (about £250), others less, but all, or
almost all, gained handsomely by an enterprise in which they had
displayed such unheard-of acts of devotion and bravery; and it is only
to be lamented that they tarnished laurels so nobly won by traits of
barbarity for which it would be difficult to find a parallel in the
annals of any army. The sale of the different commodities went on
rapidly, notwithstanding we had no auctioneers; there was no “king’s
duty,” but, most undeniably, if the Spaniards paid no “king’s duty,”
they paid the piper! While the divers articles were carried away by the
purchasers, the wounded were removed to the hospitals and camp, and the
lamentations of the women for their dead or wounded husbands made a
striking contrast to the scene of gaiety which almost everywhere
prevailed.
Towards the evening of the 9th our camp was nearly emptied of all its
saleable commodities, and the following morning was occupied in getting
rid of the many Spaniards who still hovered about us, endeavouring to
get a bargain of some of the unsold articles. By noon all traffic had
ceased, and the men began to arrange themselves for a fresh combat with
Marshal Soult, who was advancing towards Badajoz. The appearance and
demeanour of the soldiery in no way warranted the idea that they had
been occupied as they were for the last three weeks, but more especially
for the last three days. They were the same orderly set of men they had
been before the attack on the town, and were just as eager to fight
Soult as they were to storm Badajoz: the only change visible was their
_thinned ranks_. In my regiment alone, out of seven hundred and fifty
privates, four hundred and thirty-four had fallen; and of the officers,
who at the commencement of the siege counted twenty-four, but five
remained unhurt! Our total loss exceeded five thousand men; and although
no officer of a higher rank than colonel was killed, it is a singular
circumstance that every general actively engaged was wounded on the
night of the assault. Picton, Colville, Kempt, Walker, and Bowes, who
headed the assaulting divisions and brigades, were every one of them
hurt on that fatal 8th of April.[27]
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Footnote 27:
Picton headed the 3rd Division; Kempt its 1st Brigade. Colville
commanded the 4th Division; Bowes its 2nd Brigade. Walker the 2nd
Brigade of the 5th Division. The total loss of the British during the
siege was 72 officers and 963 men killed, and 306 officers and 3483
men wounded. There were also 100 missing, mostly, it is believed, men
whose bodies fell into the Guadiana or the Rivillas and were not
found. This gives a total of 4924, so that Grattan’s figure of “over
5000” is hardly exaggerated.
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