The Romance of Modern Sieges. Gilliat Edward
excited a good deal of merriment amongst our men, but the French curled their moustaches, gave him a hearty “Sacre!” and their deep contempt.
“I was on a hill with the medical staff during the night of the assault of Badajos. For two hours we watched the fire, the bursting of shells and hand-grenades. Then the wounded began to arrive, and we were busy.
“Lord Wellington rode up with his staff, and soon after a staff-officer came up at a gallop, shouting, ‘Where is Lord Wellington?’
“‘There, sir.’
“‘My lord, I am come from the breaches. The troops after repeated attempts, have failed to enter them. So many officers have fallen that the men, dispersed in the ditch, are without leaders. If your lordship does not at once send a strong reinforcement they must abandon the enterprise. Colonel McLeod, of the 43rd, has been killed in the breach.’
“A light was called for and instantly brought, and Lord Wellington noted the report with a steady hand. His face was pale and expressed great anxiety. In his manner and language he preserved perfect coolness and self-possession. General Hay’s brigade was ordered to advance to the breaches.
“You may think that it was nervous work hearing this.
“Our General had wisely planned two extreme attacks by escalade on the castle by the Third Division and on the south side of the town by the Fifth Division, and on Fort Pardoleros by the Portuguese. It was known that Soult was within a few leagues. Marmont had pushed his advanced Dragoons as far as the bridge of boats at Villa Velha; the river Guadiana was in our rear.
“It was a crisis, and we wondered what thoughts were passing through the mind of our gallant chief as he sat motionless on his horse.
“Presently another staff-officer galloped up, out of breath.
“‘General Picton – has – got possession of – the castle, sir.’
“‘Who brings that intelligence?’ exclaimed Lord Wellington.
“The officer saluted and gave his name.
“‘Are you certain, sir – are you positively certain?’
“‘I entered the castle with the troops. I have only just left it. General Picton in possession. He sent me.’
“‘Picton in possession! With how many men?’
“‘His division.’
“It is impossible to describe to you the change this news produced in the feelings of all around. A great sigh of relief could almost be heard.
“‘Return, sir, and desire General Picton to maintain his position at all hazards.’
“Having dispatched this messenger, Lord Wellington directed a second officer to proceed to the castle to repeat his orders to General Picton.
“Next morning at dawn I set out to visit the breaches. I was just thinking of two friends, Major Singer and Captain Cholwick, of the Royal Fusiliers, both of whom had been with me two evenings before. I was wondering how they had fared in the assault when I met some Fusiliers and asked for Major Singer.
“‘We are throwing the last shovels of earth upon his grave, sir.’
“‘Is Captain Cholwick safe?’ I inquired.
“‘In the act of climbing over that palisade he was wounded, fell into the water, and we have seen nothing of him since.’
“That did not make me disposed to be very cheerful.
“I found the great breach covered with dead from its base to its summit. Many were stripped. Amongst them I recognized the faces of many well known to me. In climbing up the breach my feet receded at every step in the débris, so as to make my progress slow and difficult. Behind the chevaux-de-frise a broad and deep trench had been cut, into which our men must have been precipitated had they succeeded in surmounting this huge barrier. Above was a battery of 12-pounders completely enfilading the great and the small breach, near to each other. No wonder we failed there to enter.
“I next visited the castle, at the bottom of whose walls, nearly 40 feet high, were lying shattered ladders, broken muskets, exploded shells, and the dead bodies of many of our brave men. Amongst the dead I recognized the body of the gallant Major Ridge, of the 5th Regiment, lying near the gate that leads to the town, in forcing which he had fallen, riddled with balls.
“I met a soldier of the Connaught Rangers, overpowered by excitement and brandy. The fellow looked at me suspiciously, and appeared disposed to dispute my passage. He held his loaded musket at half present, and I was prepared to close with him; but fortunately flattery succeeded. He allowed me to pass.
“Soon after entering the town a girl about nine years of age implored my protection, ‘por el amor de Dios,’ for her mother.
“A number of soldiers of a distinguished regiment were in the house, armed, and under the influence of every evil passion. Alas! I was powerless. I met a man of the 88th dragging a peasant by the neck, with the intention of putting him to death – so he declared – in atonement for his not having any money in his pockets! I appealed to the gallantry of his corps, and saved the life of his victim.”
The town had now become a scene of plunder and devastation. Our soldiers and our women, in a state of intoxication, had lost all control over themselves. These, together with numbers of Spaniards and Portuguese, who had come into the city in search of plunder, filled every street. Many were dispossessed of their booty by others, and these interchanges of plunder in many cases were not effected without bloodshed. Our soldiers had taken possession of the shops, stationed themselves behind the counters, and were selling the goods contained in them. These were, again, displaced by more numerous parties, who became shopkeepers in their turn, and thus continual scuffling and bloodshed was going on.
In addition to the incessant firing through the keyholes of the front doors of houses as the readiest way of forcing the locks, a desultory and wanton discharge of musketry was kept up in the streets, placing all who passed literally between cross-fires. Many of our own people were thus killed or wounded by their own comrades.
An attempt was made next day to collect our soldiers. The troops, however, that were sent into the town for that purpose joined in the work of plunder.
We may feel shocked at the excesses which our soldiers committed after the storming of such towns as Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajos. Folk sitting by their quiet firesides may wonder how sane men can be so dead to the higher and better feelings of humanity; but when the fever of war is followed by the poison of drink, it is no wonder if the minds of rude men are thrown off their balance. War is a most awful thing to witness, and many officers have declared to the writer that, had they known what war meant in all its dreadful reality, they would not have been so eager in their youth to join the army. All the more reason is there that every youth in our islands should be compelled by law to learn the use of the rifle, that when the time comes – as come it will – when an invader shall set foot upon our shore, we may not be helpless and unarmed. Perhaps it is necessary that we should sometimes hear the horrid truth about war; we may thus be stimulated to use a little self-denial for our country’s security, when we realize that life is not made up of games and money-making, and when we can see what our fatherland would be to us, devastated by a savage enemy, with farms and barns blazing, women and children starved to death, towns sacked and plundered, and the honour of old England trodden beneath the foot of a foreign invader. The story of these sieges has many lessons – military, ethical, and economic. Let us at least learn one – the duty that is incumbent upon all of us, men and boys, to defend mother and wife and child.
CHAPTER VI
A PRISONER IN ST. SEBASTIAN (1813)
The coup de grâce– The hospital – A cruel order – An attempt at escape – Removed to the castle – The English at the breach – Many are wounded – French ladies sleep in the open – A vertical fire – English gunners shoot too well – A good sabre lightly won.
Colonel Harvey Jones, R.E., has left us an interesting account of the siege of St. Sebastian