Chapter IX: Appendix: , No. I.--Storming of San Sebastian 493 (8)

The French corps that had already commenced its march, formed in squares of regiments outside the town, between the roads of Medellin and Merida, with the cavalry on the left--and Stewart’s brigade pressed forward through the streets, leaving to a wing of the 50th, the task of securing such of the enemy, as this sudden attack prevented from escaping with the columns. Finding the French in square, the 71st lined the fences, while the 92nd formed and opened its fire. The cavalry (Spanish), joined by a few English hussars, charged and routed the horsemen of Girard, just as Wilson’s Portuguese brigade broke through the mist, and appeared on the left and rear of this devoted band. The French cavalry instantly galloped off; and the infantry threw down their arms, and endeavoured to escape by the mountain. The paths over the Sierra, difficult at all times, were now a wretched route to retreat by,--the advanced British regiment was already mixed with the rear of the fugitives--and a scrambling pursuit succeeded. In a regular rout resistance is seldom offered; and a number of prisoners, the arms, baggage--in short, the whole _matériel_ of Girard’s division, were taken by the victors with trifling loss.

After this successful expedition, Hill retired again to Portalegre; the troops took up their old cantonments--and for a time active operations terminated.

The success of the British arms had a very powerful effect in rousing the spirits of the Spaniards, whose armies had hitherto been so frequently and signally defeated. The irregular bands of guerilla leaders everywhere increased--and their activity and enterprise crippled the resources of the French, and caused them much alarm and embarrassment. Although generally unfortunate in the field, in desultory warfare the Spanish partisans were formidable; and in the south it required incessant vigilance on the part of the invaders, to secure their detached posts, and move their convoys through the country.

One of those fortunate affairs--few and far between--that shed a passing gleam of glory upon the Spanish arms, occurred at Vals, between Eugene and Sarsfield. The French were completely beaten, and Eugene himself killed.

Other operations of no great moment were attended with varied success. Suchet had succeeded Macdonald; and by his activity the province of Catalonia was overrun, the Spanish strongholds gradually wrested from their possession, and Tarragona regularly besieged.

From the strength of the place, and the number of the garrison, the city was obstinately held against the French. But one after the other, its defences were carried by storm--and as no quarter was given, scenes, too horrible for conception, were enacted. The men were savagely butchered,--the women exposed to the most dreadful indignities,--and in the annals of war, among many instances of frightful excesses perpetrated by an infuriated soldiery, those occurring at the storm of Tarragona[151] will be found the worst.

In the south of Spain, Ballasteros had been successful in some affairs with the French detachments; and the people of Ronda, a mountain district of great strength, were up in arms. In consequence, Godinot was despatched by Soult with a division against Ballasteros, who was eventually driven to the extremity of the Peninsula, and obliged to obtain protection under the guns of Gibraltar.

A corps of British and Spanish troops had, in this interim, been landed from Cadiz, and took possession of Tarifa, and Godinot put his division in motion to attack them. His line of march was by the coast--and some British vessels having been apprised that he was advancing, had anchored close to the pass of La Pena. On attempting to get forward, the ships opened their batteries, and swept the road with such excellent effect, that Godinot abandoned the route, and hastily retreated.

Soult, however, had determined that Tarifa should be reduced; and Laval, with considerable reinforcements, was directed to invest it without delay. Tarifa was a place of little strength--an old slight wall, connecting a number of towers, forming its whole protection. The town is traversed by a mountain river, whose entrance is secured by a tower and portcullis, while the bed of the stream was strongly palisaded. The outlet was defended by an old castle and tower called the Guzmans. Tarifa joins a promontory of small extent, by a sandy spot of land and a causeway; and on the highest sandhill, called Catalina, a field-work, armed with a twelve-pounder, had been hastily thrown up. The presence of a British line-of-battle ship and frigate in the bay secured the island, and prevented any operations from being attempted within the range of their powerful batteries.

On the 20th, the place was invested by Laval. The siege commenced with an evil omen; for on the next morning a French picket having incautiously advanced, was suddenly cut off by a party of the 11th regiment, and captured.

A daring sally was made next day. Some of the English garrison penetrated the French camp and seized a gun; of course they were unable to carry it away, but they managed to draw the enemy under the fire of the ships and tower, by which they suffered considerably.

On the 22nd, Laval broke ground, and pushed forward his approaches by the eastern front until the 26th. On the 29th, the French having received their siege artillery, the guns opened on the wall, while their howitzers shelled the island. A very few discharges shook the old and feeble masonry--and in a few hours it came down in such masses, as formed an enormous breach, and left the place equally open to assault or escalade.

The street of Tarifa immediately behind the breach was fourteen feet beneath its level. Every preparation was made to receive the assault, the houses that commanded the breach being fortified and garrisoned, the street effectually barricaded, and the troops carefully distributed. To the 47th and Spaniards the defence of the breach was entrusted--the 87th held the portcullis, tower, and rampart; while a rifle company connected the regiments with each other.

Although for sixty feet the breach was open, and offered an easy ascent, the French did not venture to storm. At night, salvos of grape were fired by the French batteries--but in the intervals between the discharges, the garrison cleared the foot of the breach, and enlarged their means of defence behind it.

On the night of the 30th, a tremendous rain increased the river to such a height, that the torrent, sweeping all before it, broke down the palisades and injured the portcullis. But this calamity did not daunt the British; they laboured vigorously all night, and by morning the defences were restored.

The mountain flood subsided quickly, and at daylight, a battalion of French grenadiers quietly approached by the river bed, and rushed forward to break down the stockade. Not a shot had been fired by the British, who waited their approach with perfect coolness; but when they touched the portcullis, a rolling volley was delivered with such terrible effect, that the head of the column was annihilated, and all that composed it perished, from the officer that led, to the poor drum-boy who beat the _pas de charge_. The river bed was choked with corpses--that approach was effectually barricaded by the dead,--while rushing up the banks, the French grenadiers opened their musketry, assisted by a fire from the trenches, and a number of pits in front of their lines, which had been dug by Laval to afford a cover for his sharpshooters. But the column had been too much shattered by the first discharge to recover its courage--a sustained fire of British musketry, closely and efficiently kept up, cut off the boldest of the French soldiers who still made any thing like an effort at advancing-- while a six-pounder on the town wall, enfiladed the assailants at scarcely pistol distance, and kept up an unceasing torrent of grape, that tore up the masses of the enemy, and drove them once more for shelter to the hollow. It was hopeless to continue longer under this murderous fire--and the French retired at speed to their trenches, leaving the bed and banks of the stream heaped with corpses; while the cheering of the garrison, and the band of the 87th, as it struck up a national quickstep, strangely contrasted with the groans of dying men, and the still more harrowing outcries of the wounded.

Every kindness was bestowed upon these sufferers by their generous enemy. Those who could be carried off the field were brought through the breach and dressed by English surgeons, or allowed to be removed to their own camp. The weather became horrible--rain fell in torrents-- the besiegers and besieged were equally inconvenienced--and on the night of the 4th, Laval having destroyed part of his artillery and buried the remainder, retreated, and abandoned the siege. During the time the French remained before Tarifa, their loss exceeded a thousand men, while the British casualties did not reach much above one hundred.[152]

The Spanish armies continued their operations, and generally with indifferent success. Blake and the army of Murcia were totally defeated by Soult at Lorca. The Spanish general afterwards assumed the command of the troops in Valencia--and Suchet entered that province in considerable force.

At Murviedro, the French marshal, attempting by a _coup de main_ to carry the place, was repulsed with considerable loss; but, having brought up his siege artillery, he reduced the castle of Oropesa, and renewed his efforts with additional means and increased vigour. His first assault failed; and Blake advancing to raise the siege, Suchet determined to offer battle--and on the 24th the French and Spaniards made their dispositions, and formed in each other’s front. Early on the 25th, the latter advanced, and attacked their enemy. For a time the Spanish wings drove back the French, gained ground on either flank and carried an important height; but, unfortunately, they had endangered their centre by a too great extension of their line; and Suchet, bringing up his reserve, strengthened his left wing, and burst upon Blake’s weak point with a fury not to be resisted. The Spaniards were broken, their left wing cut to pieces in detail; while the right, by a gallant effort, retreated in good order by the Valencia road. The Spanish loss was estimated at seven thousand _hors de combat_; and Murviedro surrendered on the following day.

Blake, after his defeat, took a strong position under the walls of Valencia, threw up field-works, destroyed some bridges, and fortified the others; while Suchet established himself on the left bank of the Guadalavia, and waited for the reinforcements for which he had applied. On Christmas-day a strong corps arrived from Catalonia, and strengthened the French army by ten thousand men; and on the next morning Suchet crossed the river, drove the Spanish left from their intrenchments, and obliged Blake, with the remainder of his army, to shut himself up in Valencia.

Overburthened by a population and troops amounting to one hundred thousand souls, the city could not hold out long. Blake unsuccessfully endeavoured to force Suchet’s line, but was again driven into the town. A bombardment ensued; and on the 8th of January, a capitulation took place; the Spanish army becoming prisoners of war, and Valencia opening its gates to the conqueror.

SIEGE OF CIUDAD RODRIGO.

Lord Wellington makes secret preparations to besiege Ciudad
Rodrigo.--Siege commences.--City carried by assault--and given
up to plunder.

A campaign highly honourable to the British arms had ended, and the rival armies had taken up cantonments for the winter months, each covering an extensive range of country, for the better obtaining of forage and supplies. Active operations for a season were suspended-- and officers, whose private concerns or bad health required a temporary leave of absence, had asked and received permission to revisit England. The restoration of the works of Almeida, which the French had half destroyed, occupied the leisure time of the British and Portuguese artificers--while, for the ostensible purpose of arming that fortress, siege stores and a battering train were conveyed thither by water carriage--the Douro having been rendered navigable by the English engineers for an extended distance of forty miles.

But the arming of Almeida was but a feint--the reduction of Ciudad Rodrigo was the real object of Lord Wellington,--and with indefatigable zeal he applied himself to obtain the means. A waggon train was organized--six hundred carts, on an improved construction, were built; and while the French marshal, supposing that the weakness of Lord Wellington was a security against any act of aggression upon his part, detached Montbrun to Valencia, and Dorsenne to the Asturias and Montana, the English general was quietly preparing to strike a sudden and unexpected blow, and completed his necessary arrangements for investing Rodrigo the 6th of January.

Considering the season of the year, and the nakedness of the country for many miles around the threatened fortress, the intended operation was bold to a degree. The horses had scarcely any forage, and the men were literally destitute of bread or shelter. The new year came in inclemently--rain fell in torrents--and though the investment was delayed two days, the brigade (Mackinnon’s) that marched from Aldea de Ponte, left nearly four hundred men behind, in a route of only four-and-twenty miles, numbers of whom perished on the line of march, or died subsequently from the fatigue they had endured.

Ciudad Rodrigo stands on high ground, in the centre of an extensive plain it domineers. The city is erected on the right bank of the Agueda, which there branches into numerous channels, and forms a number of small islands. The citadel commands the town, and standing on an elevated mound is difficult of access on every side. Since their late occupation, the French had added considerably to the strength of the place. The suburbs were secured against a _coup de main_, by fortifying two convents on their flanks, and another nearly in the centre. On the north side the ground rises in two places; that furthest from the works is thirteen feet above the level of the ramparts, from which it is distant six hundred yards. The other, of lesser altitude, is scarcely two hundred paces. On the former the enemy had erected a redoubt; it was protected by a fortified convent called San Francisco, as well as the artillery of the place, which commanded the approaches from the hill.

The Agueda is fordable in several places, the best passage being within pistol-shot of the walls. In winter, from the sudden floodings of the river, these fords cannot be relied upon--and a bridge of eighteen trestles, with a platform four hundred feet long, was secretly constructed in the citadel of Almeida and conveyed to Salices.

Four divisions were entrusted with the duties of the siege. They took their turns in course--each for twenty-four hours furnishing the requisite guards and working parties.

On the night of the 8th of January, the investment was regularly commenced, and the redoubt on the upper Teson stormed by three companies of the 52nd with trifling loss. Ground was broken on its flank--and by the morning the trench was four feet wide and three in depth. On the following night the first parallel was opened; and the outlines of three batteries, for eleven guns each, were traced.

The weather continued dreadfully inclement; and as it was believed that Marmont would endeavour to raise the siege, Wellington decided on rapid operations, and resolved to attempt a storm even with the counterscarps entire. Both the besiegers and the besieged were active in their operations. On the night of the 13th, the convent of Santa Cruz was taken; and on the 14th, while the division was coming to relieve the working parties, the garrison made a sortie, overturned the gabions in advance of the parallel, and would have succeeded in spiking the guns, but for the spirited opposition of a few workmen and engineers, who checked the attempt, until the head of the division closing up obliged the French to retire.

On the morning of the 14th, the batteries were nearly ready for breaching, mounted with twenty-three 24-pounders and two eighteens. At four o’clock in the afternoon their fire commenced,--and a spectacle more strikingly magnificent, it has rarely been the good fortune even of a British soldier to witness.

“The evening chanced to be remarkably beautiful and still; there was not a cloud in the sky, nor a breath of wind astir, when suddenly the roar of artillery broke in upon its calmness, and volumes of smoke rose slowly from the batteries. These floating gently towards the town, soon enveloped the lower part of the hill, and even the ramparts and bastions in a dense veil; while the towers and summits lifting their heads over the haze, showed like fairy buildings, or those unsubstantial castles which are sometimes seen in the clouds on a summer’s day. The flashes from the British guns, answered as they were from the artillery in the front, and the roar of their thunder reverberating among the remote mountains of the Sierra de Francisca; these, with the rattle of the balls against the walls, proved altogether a scene which, to be rightly understood, must be experienced.”[153]

That night the convent of San Francisco was escaladed by a wing of the 40th,--and the French having abandoned the suburbs, they were occupied by the besiegers.

At daybreak on the 15th the batteries resumed their fire, and at sunset the walls of the main scarp and fausse braye[154] were visibly shaken.[155] Under cover of a fog on the 16th, the second parallel was prolonged; but the front of the works was so limited, and the fire of the enemy so concentrated and correct, that it required immense time to throw up a battery. The difficulty may be readily imagined, from the fact of the French having discharged at the approaches, upwards of twenty thousand shot and shells. Another battery of seven guns was opened on the 18th. On the 19th, two breaches were distinctly visible from the trenches, and on being carefully reconnoitred, they were declared practicable. Lord Wellington examined them in person,-- decided on storming them that evening,--and from behind the reverse of one of the approaches, issued written orders for the assault.

The French were not inactive. The larger breach, exposing a shattered front of more than one hundred feet, had been carefully mined--the base of the wall strewn with shells and grenades, and the top, where troops might escalade, similarly defended. Behind, a deep retrenchment was cut to insulate the broken rampart, in the event of its being carried by storm. The lesser breach was narrow at the top, exceedingly steep, with a four-and-twenty-pounder turned sideways, that blocked the passage up, except an opening between the muzzle and the wall, by which two files might enter.

Early in the evening, the third and light divisions were moved from their cantonments. At six, the third moved to the rear of the first parallel, two gun-shots from the main breach,--while the light formed behind a convent, three hundred yards in front of the smaller one. Darkness came on,--and with it came the order to “Stand to arms.” With calm determination, the soldiers of the third division heard their commanding officer announce the main breach as the object of attack; and every man prepared himself promptly for the desperate struggle. Off went the packs,--the stocks were unbuckled,--the cartouch box arranged to meet the hand more readily,--flints were screwed home,-- every one after his individual fancy, fitting himself for action. The companies were carefully told off--the sergeants called the rolls,-- and not a man was missing.

The town clock struck seven,--and its sonorous bell knelled the fate of hundreds. Presently the forlorn hope formed under the leading of the senior subaltern of the 88th, William Mackie: and Picton and Mackinnon rode up and joined the division. The former’s address to the Connaught Rangers was brief, it was to “Spare powder, and trust entirely to cold iron.” The word was given,--“Forward!” was repeated in under tones,-- the forlorn hope led the way,--the storming party, carrying bags filled with dry grass, followed,--the division in column succeeded,-- all moved on in desperate silence, and of the third division not a file hung back.

The fifth regiment joined from the right, and all pressed forward to the breach. The bags, thrown into the ditch by the sappers, reduced the depth one half; ladders were instantly raised, the storming party mounted, and after a short but severe struggle, the breach was won.

Before the storming party had entered the ditch, the shells and combustibles had been prematurely exploded, occasioning but trifling loss to the assailants. The French instantly abandoned the breach, sprang the mines, and fell back behind the retrenchment, from which, and from the neighbouring houses, they maintained a murderous fire.

In the mean time the light division had stormed the lesser breach. It was most gallantly carried; and the loss would not have been severe, but for the accidental explosion of a service magazine behind the traverse, by which several officers and a number of men were destroyed. Directed by the heavy fire at the main breach, part of the 43rd and 95th rushed along the ramparts to assist their comrades of the third division; and Pack’s brigade, having converted their feint upon the southern face of the works into a real attack, entered the “fausse braye,” and drove the French before them with the bayonet. Thus threatened in their rear, the enemy abandoned the retrenchment; and, still resisting, were driven from street to street, until they flung down their arms, and asked and received that quarter which the laws of war denied, and the fury of an excited soldiery left them but little hope of obtaining.

The town was won; but, alas! many of the best and bravest had fallen. Craufurd[156] was mortally wounded in leading the light division to the lesser breach; and Mackinnon[157] blown up, after having gained the ramparts of the great one. During the siege, the allies lost three officers and seventy-seven killed; twenty-four officers and five hundred men wounded; while in the storm, six officers and one hundred and forty men fell, and sixty officers and nearly five hundred men were wounded. The French loss was severe; and the commandant, General Barrie, with eighty officers and seventeen hundred men, were taken prisoners. There were found upon the works one hundred and nine pieces of artillery, a battering train of forty-four guns, and an armoury and arsenal filled with military stores.

Thus fell Rodrigo. On the evening of the 8th the first ground was broken,--on that of the 19th the British colours were flying on the ramparts. Massena, after a tedious bombardment, took a full month to reduce it; Wellington carried it by assault in eleven days. No wonder that Marmont, in his despatch to Berthier, was puzzled to account for the rapid reduction of a place, respecting whose present safety and ultimate relief, he had previously forwarded the most encouraging assurances.[158]

After all resistance had ceased, the usual scene of riot, plunder, and confusion, which by prescriptive right the stormers of a town enjoy, occurred. Every house was entered and despoiled; the spirit stores were forced open; the soldiery got desperately excited; and in the madness of their intoxication, committed many acts of silly and wanton violence. All plundered what they could--and in turn they were robbed by their own companions. Brawls and bloodshed resulted--and the same men who, shoulder to shoulder, had won their way over the “imminent deadly breach,” fought with demoniac ferocity for some disputed article of plunder. At last, worn out by fatigue, and stupified with brandy, they sank into brutal insensibility; and on the second day, with few exceptions, rejoined their regiments; the assault and sacking of Rodrigo appearing in their confused imaginations, rather like some troubled dream than a desperate and blood-stained reality.

On the second day, order was tolerably restored; stragglers had returned to their regiments; the breaches were repaired, the trenches filled in, and the place being once more perfectly defensible, was given up by Lord Wellington to Castanos, the captain-general of the province, who had been present at the siege. Additional honours were deservedly conferred upon the conqueror of Rodrigo. Wellington was created an English earl and a Spanish duke--and a farther annuity of 2,000_l._ a year was voted by a grateful country, to support the dignities she had so deservedly conferred.

But another and a bolder blow was yet to be struck. Again the troops were put in motion, and the order was obeyed with pleasure, all being too happy to quit a place where every supply had been exhausted, and every object recalled the loss of relatives and friends.[159] Leaving a division of infantry on the Agueda, the remainder of the army moved rapidly back upon the Tagus, and, crossing the river, headquarters were established at Elvas, on the 11th. There every preparation was completed for one of the boldest of Lord Wellington’s attempts,-- for on the 16th, a pontoon bridge across the Guadiana was traversed by the light, third, and fourth divisions--and Badajoz regularly invested.[160]

SIEGE OF BADAJOZ.

Siege of Badajoz.--The Castle assaulted, and carried by escalade.--
Philippon surrenders.--Town given up to the soldiery, and sacked.

The secrecy and despatch with which Lord Wellington had formed or collected all necessary _matériel_ for besieging the formidable place on whose reduction he had determined, was astonishing. The heavy guns had been brought by sea from Lisbon, transhipped into craft of easy draught of water, and thus conveyed up the river until they reached the banks of the Guadiana. Gabions and fascines[161] were prepared in the surrounding woods--intrenching-tools provided--the pontoon bridge brought up from Abrantez--and the battering train, comprising sixteen 24 and twenty 18-pounders, with sixteen 24-pound howitzers, were forwarded from Almeida, and parked upon the glacis of Elvas, in readiness for the opening of the siege.

Though not entirely aware of the extent of these hostile preparations, Philippon, the governor of Badajoz, had apprised Marshal Soult that the fortress was threatened, and demanded a supply of shells and gunpowder. This requisition, though immediately complied with, was not obtained-- for Sir Rowland Hill, with his characteristic activity, prevented the convoy from reaching its destination. Indeed nothing which could secure the place had been forgotten or neglected by its governor. The forts of San Christoval and Pardelaras had been considerably strengthened and enlarged,--the former by a lunette,[162] magazine and bomb-proof, and the latter by a general repair. Badajoz was provisioned for five weeks,--the garrison was numerous and well appointed,--and, confident in his own resources and skill, Philippon, after two successful defences, resolutely prepared himself for a third--and with a perfect conviction that, like the others, it, too, would prove successful.

The force that invested the fortress on the 16th was placed under the command of Marshal Beresford, and consisted of the divisions of Barnard, Picton, and Colville. The first, sixth, and seventh divisions, with the cavalry of La Marchant and Slade, were placed in advance, at Larena, Mafra, and Los Santos, to observe the movements of Soult; while the second British division, and the Portuguese under General Hamilton, with a cavalry brigade attached, occupied Merida and Almendralajo, to prevent any junction between Soult and Marmont, should the latter attempt to unite his forces with those of the Duke of Dalmatia.

Badajoz is easily described. Round one portion of the town, the rivulets Calamon and Rivellas sweep, and unite with the Guadiana, which flows in the face of the works, and in front of the heights of San Christoval. The castle stands above the union of these rivers. The fortifications are exceedingly strong--the bastions and curtains regular--while formidable outworks, the forts of Pardelaras, Picarina, and San Christoval, complete the exterior defences.[163]

A close _reconnaissance_ at once convinced Lord Wellington that the defences had been amazingly improved--and, as time pressed, and the means of regular investment were but indifferent, he determined that the bastion of La Trinidad, from its unfinished counterguard,[164] should be battered. To effect this, the Picarina redoubt, forming nearly an angle with the bastion, and the lunette of San Rocque, must necessarily be carried.

The night of the 16th was bad enough to mask any daring essay--and rain, darkness, and storm favoured the bold attempt. Ground was accordingly broken--and though but one hundred and seventy yards from the covered-way, the working parties were neither heard nor molested. The 17th and 18th were similarly employed--but under a heavy fire from the Picarina fort, and such of the guns upon the works as could be turned by the garrison on the approaches.

The evening of the 18th, however, produced a very different scene-- for the enemy became assailant--and a _sortie_ was made with fifteen hundred men, accompanied by some forty cavalry. To the works, this sudden assault occasioned but little mischief. The gabions[165] were overturned, some intrenching tools captured, and great confusion caused among the working parties; but the French were speedily driven back, after causing much alarm, and a loss of one hundred and fifty in killed and wounded. Colonel Fletcher, the chief of the engineers, was unfortunately among the latter.

The weather was in every way unfavourable for prosecuting the siege, and elemental influences seemed to have united with Philippon against the allied commander. The rain fell in torrents--the river rose far beyond its customary height,--the pontoons swamped at their moorings-- and all were swept away. From the violence of the current, the flying bridges worked but slowly, and serious apprehensions were entertained lest the communications should be interrupted with the other side, and, of necessity, that the siege must be raised. To forward the works required incredible fatigue; the ground was soaked with moisture; the trenches more than knee-deep with mud and rain; the revêtements[166] of the batteries crumbled away under any pressure, and it was almost impossible to lay platforms for the guns. Indeed, had the works been ready for their reception, the task of transporting heavy artillery across a surface, rendered a perfect swamp by the incessant torrents which had fallen for days without any intermission, would have been a most laborious duty. Fortunately, the weather changed, the ground dried partially, and the works were carried on with additional spirit. By employing teams of oxen, assisted by numerous fatigue parties, the guns were brought forward, and the batteries armed--and on the 25th they opened on the Picarina and the place itself, with excellent effect, while Philippon returned the fire from every gun upon the ramparts that could be brought to bear.

Perceiving the true object of the besiegers, and certain that the Picarina would be assailed, ample measures were taken for its defence. The ditch was deepened, the gorge secured by an additional palisade; under the angles of the glacis fougasses[167] were placed, and shells and grenades laid along the parapet, to roll down upon the storming party at the moment of attack. The ditch was exposed to a flanking fire, and two hundred spare muskets were ranged along the banquet. Every means, in short, were adopted that could insure a vigorous and successful resistance.

That night, at ten o’clock, the fort was attacked and carried by five hundred men of the third division, under Major-general Kempt. One party was directed to attempt the gorge, another prevented the place from being succoured from the city, and at the same time cut off the garrison from retreat; and a third were to distract the attention of the French, and assist their comrades by making a front attack.

The first detachment reached the gorge undiscovered, but failed in forcing the palisades, from the heavy fire of musketry poured on them by the garrison. Retiring from a place where success was hopeless, the storming party moved round the left flank, and escaladed and won the parapet; while another forced the salient angle simultaneously. The French retreated to a guard-house, which they barricaded and defended most obstinately. Alarmed by a false report that a large body of the besieged had sallied from the town to relieve the fort, the troops were about to abandon these advantages, and quit a place their bravery had already won; but General Kempt dispelled the panic, led them forward, and attacked the garrison again, who fought to the very last; and, with the exception of some seventy, perished while desperately resisting. The taking of Picarina was gallantly effected, but it cost the British dear--the casualties, in killed and wounded, being nineteen officers and upwards of three hundred men.

The capture of the fort enabled the second parallel to be pushed on, and breaching batteries to be completed. The guns maintained a heavy fire on the bastion of La Trinidad; and the sappers directed their efforts against the lunette of San Rocque. The progress of the siege was slow; and though two breaches were made, the certainty that both were retrenched[168] and secured by interior defences, rendered an assault too hazardous an experiment to be ventured. Lord Wellington was critically circumstanced; Marmont had made some forward movements in front of Beira--and Soult was advancing, determined to relieve the place. His light troops were already at Larena; the covering army under Hill had been obliged to retreat; and after blowing up two arches of the bridge of Merida, had taken post in front of Talavera. In consequence, the fifth division was ordered to advance, leaving the observation of San Christoval to the Portuguese cavalry; the British general having decided on leaving a corps of ten thousand men to protect the trenches, and with the remainder of his force bring Soult to action.

At noon, on the 5th, the breaches were reconnoitred and declared practicable; but the assault was deferred for another day to allow the artillery time to batter down the curtain, connecting the bastion with an unfinished ravelin. The concentrated fire of the British batteries fell upon the old wall with irresistible force; it was breached in a single day, and thus three points for assault were thrown open. The report of the engineers was encouraging; the main breach was sufficiently wide, and the ascent to all three easy enough for troops to mount.

Ten o’clock on the night of the 6th was appointed for the assault to be attempted, and the necessary orders were issued accordingly. The castle was to be attacked by the third division--the bastion of La Trinidad by the fourth--that of Santa Maria by the light division--the lunette of San Rocque by a party from the trenches; while the fifth should distract the garrison by a false attack on the Pardelaras, and the works contiguous to San Vicente.

Philippon, well aware that an assault might be expected, had employed every resource that skill and ingenuity could devise to render the attempt a failure. As Lord Wellington had neither time nor means to destroy the counterscarps, the French were enabled to raise the most formidable obstructions at their foot, and insulate the breaches effectually. At night, the rubbish was removed, retrenchments formed, and the battered parapets repaired by sand-bags, casks, and woolpacks. Powder-barrels and grenades were laid along the trenches--and at the foot of the breach sixty fourteen-inch shells, communicating with hoses and bedded in earth, were placed ready for explosion. A chevaux-de-frieze[169] was stretched across the rampart, and planks studded with spikes covered the slopes of the breaches. Every species of combustible was employed, and a cartridge specially prepared for the musketry, formed of buck-shot and slugs; and when the distance was so close, nothing would prove more mischievous.

The day was remarkably fine--and the troops, in high spirits, heard the orders for the assault, and proceeded to clean their appointments, as if a dress parade only was intended. Evening came,--darkness shut distant objects out,--the regiments formed,--the roll was called in an under-voice,--the forlorn hope stepped out,--the storming party was told off,--all were in readiness, and “eager for the fray.”

Shortly before ten, a beautiful firework rose from the town, and shewed the outline of Badajoz and every object that lay within several hundred yards of the works. The flame of the carcase died gradually away--and darkness, apparently more dense, succeeded this short and brilliant illumination.

The word was given, the forlorn hope moved forward, the storming parties succeeded, and the divisions, in columns, closed the whole. Of these splendid troops, now all life and daring, how many were living in an hour?

At that moment the deep bell of the cathedral of St. John struck ten; the most perfect silence reigned around, and except the softened footsteps of the storming parties, as they fell upon the turf with military precision, not a movement was audible. A terrible suspense,-- a horrible stillness,--darkness,--a compression of the breathing,-- the dull and ill-defined outline of the town,--the knowledge that similar and simultaneous movements were making on other points,--the certainty that two or three minutes would probably involve the forlorn hope in ruin, or make it the beacon-light to conquest,--all these made the heart throb quicker, and long for the bursting of the storm, when victory should crown daring with success, or hope and life should end together.

On went the storming parties--one solitary musket was discharged beside the breach--but none answered it. The light division moved forward, rapidly closing up in columns at quarter distance. The ditch was gained,--the ladders were lowered,--on rushed the forlorn hope, with the storming party close behind them. The divisions were now on the brink of the sheer descent, when a gun boomed from the parapet. The earth trembled,--a mine was fired,--an explosion,--and an infernal hissing from lighted fusees succeeded,--and, like the rising of a curtain on the stage, in the hellish glare that suddenly burst out around the breaches, the French lining the ramparts in crowds, and the English descending the ditch, were placed as distinctly visible to each other as if the hour were noontide!

A tremendous fire from the guns, a number of which had been laid upon the approaches to the breach, followed the explosion; but, all undaunted, the storming party cheered--and undauntedly the French answered it. A murderous scene ensued, for the breach was utterly impassable. Notwithstanding the withering fire of musketry from the parapets, with light artillery directed immediately on the breach, and grape from every gun upon the works that could play upon the assailants and the supporting columns, the British mounted. Hundreds were thrown back, and hundreds as promptly succeeded them. Almost unharmed themselves, the French dealt death around; and secure within defences, that even in daylight and to a force unopposed, proved afterwards nearly insurmountable, they ridiculed the mad attempt; and while they viewed from the parapets a thousand victims writhing in the ditch, they called in derision to the broken columns, and invited them to come on.

While the assaults upon the breaches were thus fatally unsuccessful, the third and fifth divisions had moved to their respective points of attack. Picton’s, to whom the citadel was assigned, found difficulties nearly equal to those encountered at the breaches. Thither Philippon had determined to retire, if the assault upon the other defences should succeed, and, in that event, hold the castle and San Christoval to the last. To render the place more secure, he had caused the gates to be built up, and the ramparts were lined with shells, cart-wheels, stones, and every destructive missile. Fireballs betrayed the movements of the assailants; and, for a time, every attempt at escalade failed with prodigious loss. At last one ladder was planted,--a few daring spirits gained the ramparts,--crowds followed them,--and in an incredibly short time the castle was won. Philippon heard of the disaster too late to redeem its loss. The troops despatched from the breaches and elsewhere were unable to recover it,--a British jacket waved from the flag-staff, and in the first dawn of morning announced the downfal of Badajoz.

The fifth division were equally successful; though General Leith had to delay his attack till eleven o’clock, from the party who had charge of the ladders losing their way.

The attempt on San Vicente succeeded, notwithstanding every preparation had been made for its defence; Major-general Walker overcame all opposition, and established himself securely in the place.

“And yet it is astonishing, even in the spring-tide of success, how the most trivial circumstances will damp the courage of the bravest, and check the most desperate in their career. The storming party of the fifth had escaladed a wall of thirty feet with wretched ladders, forced an uninjured palisade, descended a deep counterscarp, crossed the lunette behind it, and this was effected under a converging fire from the bastions, and a well-sustained fusilade, while but a few of the assailants could force their way together, and form on the rampart when they got up. But the leading sections persevered until the brigade was completely lodged within the parapet; and now united, and supported by the division who followed fast, what could withstand their advance?

“They were sweeping forward with the bayonet,--the French were broken and dispersed--when at this moment of brilliant success, a port-fire, which a retreating gunner had flung upon the rampart, was casually discovered. A vague alarm seized the leading files--they fancied some mischief was intended,--and imagined the success, which their own desperate gallantry had achieved, was but a _ruse_ of the enemy to lure them to destruction. ‘It is a mine,--and they are springing it!’ shouted a soldier. Instantly the leaders of the storming party turned--and it was impossible for their officers to undeceive them. The French perceived the panic,--rallied and pursued,--and friends and foes came rushing back tumultuously upon a supporting regiment (the 38th) that was fortunately formed in reserve upon the ramparts. This momentary success of the besieged was dearly purchased; a volley was thrown closely in, a bayonet rush succeeded, and the French were scattered before the fresh assailants, never to form again. The fifth division rushed on; every thing gave way that opposed it--the cheering arose above the firing--the bugles sounded an advance,--the enemy became distracted and disheartened--and again the light and fourth divisions,--or, alas! their skeletons, assisted by Hay’s brigade, advanced to the breaches. No opposition was made; they entered, and Badajoz was their own! Philippon, finding that all was lost, retired across the river to San Christoval; and early next day, surrendered unconditionally.”

The loss sustained by the allies in the reduction of this well-defended fortress was awful. In the assault alone, the British casualties were fifty-nine officers and seven hundred and forty-four men killed. Two hundred and fifty-eight officers, and two thousand six hundred men wounded!

Lord Wellington had stationed himself on the high ground behind San Christoval, to view the progress of the assault. During a contest so doubtful and protracted, his anxiety was painfully acute. What a period of dreadful suspense must have ensued, from the time the striking of the town clock announced the marching of the divisions, until the thunder of artillery told the British leader that the conflict had begun! For a minute, the fireworks thrown from the place, showed the columns at the breaches. Darkness followed--stillness more horrible yet--and then the sudden burst of light, as shells and mines exploded. The main breach was literally in a blaze--sheets of fire mounted to the sky, accompanied by a continued roaring of hellish noises, as every villanous combustible was ignited to discover or destroy the assailants.

The wounded came fast to the rear, but they could tell little how matters were progressing. At last a mounted officer rode up. He was the bearer of evil tidings--the attack upon the breaches had failed-- the majority of the officers had fallen--the men, left without leaders to direct them, were straggling about the ditch, and unless instant assistance was sent, the assault must fail entirely. Pale but collected, the British general heard the disastrous communication, and issued orders to send forward a fresh brigade (Hay’s) to the breaches. Half an hour passed, and another officer appeared. He came from Picton to say the castle had been escaladed, and that the third division was actually in the town.

Instantly staff officers were despatched to the castle with orders that it should be retained, and that the divisions, or rather their relics, should be withdrawn from the breaches.

Though the regular assaults had been sanguinary failures, the detached attacks upon the castle and San Vincente were brilliantly successful, and either of them must have next day produced the fall of Badajoz. In fact, the city was doubly won; and had Leith’s division obtained their ladders in proper order, the place would have fallen in half the time, and a frightful loss of life have been consequently avoided.

It may be readily imagined that such a fierce resistance as that made by the French would provoke a desperate retaliation from the victors; and as the city was given up to the excited soldiery, for a day and two nights it presented a fearful scene of rapine and riot. The streets were heaped with the drunken and the dead--and very many of the conquerors, who had escaped uninjured in the storm, fell by the bayonets of their comrades.

_Sir W. Beechey_
_H. Cook._

Picton.]

No language can depict the horrors which succeed a storm; and the following vivid but faithful picture of Badajoz, as it appeared on the evening after it had been carried, will convey some idea of the dreadful outrages that ensued.

“It was nearly dusk, and the few hours while I slept had made a frightful change in the condition and temper of the soldiery. In the morning they were obedient to their officers, and preserved the semblance of subordination; now they were in a state of furious intoxication--discipline was forgotten--and the splendid troops of yesterday had become a fierce and sanguinary rabble, dead to every touch of human feeling, and filled with every demoniac passion that can brutalize the man. The town was in terrible confusion, and on every side frightful tokens of military license met the eye.

“One street, as I approached the castle, was almost choked up with broken furniture; for the houses had been gutted from the cellar to the garret, the partitions torn down, and even the beds ripped and scattered to the winds, in the hope that gold might be found concealed. A convent[170] at the end of the strada of Saint John was in flames; and I saw more than one wretched nun in the arms of a drunken soldier.

“Farther on, the confusion seemed greater. Brandy and wine casks were rolled out before the stores; some were full, some half drunk, but more staved in mere wantonness, and the liquors running through the kennel. Many a harrowing scream saluted the ear of the passer-by; many a female supplication was heard asking in vain for mercy. How could it be otherwise, when it is remembered that twenty thousand furious and licentious madmen were loosed upon an immense population, among which many of the loveliest women upon earth might be found? All within that devoted city was at the disposal of an infuriated army, over whom for the time control was lost, aided by an infamous collection of camp followers, who were, if possible, more sanguinary and pitiless even than those who had survived the storm!

“It is useless to dwell upon a scene from which the heart revolts. Few females in this beautiful town were saved that night from insult. The noblest and the beggar--the nun, and the wife and daughter of the artisan--youth and age, all were involved in general ruin. None were respected, and few consequently escaped. The madness of those desperate brigands was variously exhibited; some fired through doors and windows; others at the church-bells; many at the wretched inhabitants as they fled into the streets to escape the bayonets of the savages who were demolishing their property within doors; while some wretches, as if blood had not flowed in sufficient torrents already, shot from the windows their own companions as they staggered on below. What chances had the miserable inhabitants of escaping death when more than one officer perished by the bullets and bayonets of the very men whom a few hours before he had led to the assault?”[171]

Strict measures were taken on the second day by Lord Wellington to repress these desperate excesses,[172] and save the infuriated soldiery from the fatal consequences their own debauchery produced;[173] a Portuguese brigade was brought from the rear, and sent into the town, accompanied by the provost marshal and the gallows. This demonstration had its due effect, and one rope carried terror to rioters, whom the bayonets of a whole regiment could not appal.

RETREAT OF THE FRENCH.

Soult retreats.--Cavalry affair at Usagre.--Marmont invades
Portugal.--Affair with the militias.--Retires into Spain.--
Surprise and destruction of the works and bridge at Almarez.--
Failure of Ballasteros at Bornos.

Marshal Soult had come up within two marches of Badajoz before he was apprised that the city had been carried by assault. Nothing could exceed his astonishment,[174] for he had been perfectly assured that the fortress was in no immediate danger; and he felt confident with Marmont’s assistance, by attacking the covering army, to save Badajoz from falling. On ascertaining the disastrous issue of the siege, the French marshal instantly retreated, and the British cavalry actively pursued him.

At Usagre, by a rapid night-march of Anson’s and Le Marchant’s brigades, Sir Stapleton Cotton overtook Soult’s rear-guard, under the command of Peyreymont. The French having only observed Ponsonby, who led the advance, supposed that he was unsupported, and formed on a rising ground behind the Benvenida road. For a time, the English general delayed them by skirmishing, while Le Marchant, concealed by the heights, was getting quickly in their rear. This effected, Ponsonby charged boldly in front, while the fifth dragoon guards galloped round the hill, and unexpectedly threw themselves upon their flank. The French broke, and retired in great disorder, followed by the English cavalry, who for several miles pursued the flying enemy, cutting down numbers, and securing one hundred and thirty prisoners. The affair was a very gallant one,--and the more creditable to the victor, as the force on each side was nearly equal.[175]

Marmont, on his advance from Salamanca, after blockading Ciudad Rodrigo and investing Almeida, had pushed forward into Portugal, driving the militia back. Their leaders, Trant and Wilson, expecting assistance from Silviera, took a position at Guarda, to protect the magazines at Celerico; while the French marauding parties overran the lower Beira, wasting and plundering the country, and treating the peasantry with shameful cruelty. Unable from his weakness, to hold Castello Branco longer, Le Cor, after removing the hospitals and destroying the magazines, fell back to Sarnadas.

Trant had formed the bold design of surprising Marmont at Sabugal, but was in turn surprised himself. His outposts were cut off, and the French were almost entering the streets, when accident alarmed the marshal, and prevented him from profiting by the earlier success of his night-march over the mountain.

Trant fell back on the Mondego, and for a time the battalions retired in good order; but the rear-guard, on being pressed by Marmont’s cavalry, gave way and abandoning their arms and colours, endeavoured to cross the river.[176] Some were cut down, but many more were drowned in their ignominious attempt to escape; and to the humanity of the French marshal the greater portion of the fugitives owed their safety-- as Marmont discontinued the pursuit and arrested the work of slaughter.

Wilson remained in charge of the magazines at Celerico, until the French had advanced close to the place, and driven in his outposts. The Portuguese general then issued orders to destroy the stores; fortunately, they were but partially obeyed, for Marmont immediately retired, left Guarda to the militia, and consequently a part of the magazines was saved.

Finding that his indefatigable opponent was marching northwards, Marmont fell farther back on Sabugal, and after raising the blockade of Rodrigo, again retreated on Salamanca.

The allied army immediately took up cantonments on the Coa and Agueda; and as an ample commissariat had been established behind the Douro, the troops were abundantly supplied.

The head-quarters were removed to Fuente Guinaldo, and Lord Wellington determined to re-establish his own communications across the Tagus,[177] and destroy those of the enemy. Both designs were accomplished with his usual success; and, as military operations, the science displayed in the execution of the one, was only equalled by the boldness that marked the daring manner with which the other was effected.