A Sergeant Fleming, a brave soldier, before mentioned in these Memoirs, coming up, informed Major O’Hare that a ladder-party was wanted. “Take the right files of the leading sections,” was the prompt order of the Major. No sooner said than done. I and my front-rank men were immediately tapped on the shoulder for the ladder-party. I now gave up all hope of ever returning. At Rodrigo, as before stated, we had fatigue parties for the ladders, but now the case was altered; besides which the ladders, now in preparation, were much longer than those employed at that fortress.
I may just mention, that whatever were my own forebodings on the occasion, the presentiments of our brave old Major O’Hare and those of Captain Jones were fatally realized, for in less than twenty minutes after the above conversation, both fell riddled with balls.
The word was now given to the ladder-party to move forward. We were accompanied at each side by two men with hatchets to cut down any obstacle that might oppose them, such as chevaux-de-frise. There were six of us supporting the ladder allotted to me, and I contrived to carry my grass-bag before me.[[13]] We had proceeded but a short distance when we heard the sound of voices on our right, upon which we halted, and supposing they might be enemies, I disengaged myself from the ladder, and cocking my rifle, prepared for action. Luckily we soon discovered our mistake, as one of our party cried—“Take care! ’Tis the stormers of the fourth division coming to join us.” This proved to be the case. This brief alarm over, we continued advancing towards the walls, the Rifles, as before, keeping in front. We had to pass Fort St. Roche on our left, near to the town, and as we approached it the French sentry challenged. This was instantly followed by a shot from the fort and another from the walls of the town. A moment afterwards, a fire-ball was thrown out, which threw a bright red glare of light around us, and instantly a volley of grape-shot, canister, and small arms poured in among us, as we stood on the glacis, at a distance of about thirty yards from the walls.
Three of the men carrying the ladder with me were shot dead in a breath, and its weight falling upon me, I fell backwards with the grass-bag on my breast. The remainder of the stormers rushed up, regardless of my cries, or those of the wounded men around me, for by this time our men were falling fast. Many in passing were shot and fell upon me, so that I was actually drenched in blood. The weight I had to sustain became intolerable, and had it not been for the grass-bag which in some measure protected me, I must have been suffocated. At length, by a strong effort, I managed to extricate myself, in doing which I left my rifle behind me, and drawing my sword, rushed towards the breach. There I found four men putting a ladder down the ditch; and not daring to pause, fresh lights being still thrown out of the town, with a continual discharge of musketry, I slid quickly down the ladder, but before I could recover my footing, was knocked down again by the bodies of men who were shot in attempting the descent. I, however, succeeded in extricating myself from underneath the dead, and rushing forward to the right, to my surprise and fear I found myself emerged to my neck in water. Until then I was tolerably composed, but now all reflection left me, and diving through the water, being a good swimmer, gained the other side, but lost my sword; I now attempted to make to the breach, which the blaze of musketry from the walls clearly showed me. Without rifle, sword, or any other weapon, I succeeded in clambering up a part of the breach, and came near to a chevaux-de-frise, consisting of a piece of heavy timber studded with sword-blades, turning on an axis: but just before reaching it I received a stroke on the breast, whether from a grenade or a stone, or by the butt-end of a musket, I cannot say, but down I rolled senseless, and drenched with water and human gore. I could not have laid long in this plight, for when my senses had in some measure returned, I perceived our gallant fellows still rushing forward, each seeming to share a fate more deadly than my own. The fire continued in one horrible and incessant peal, as if the mouth of the infernal regions had opened to vomit forth destruction upon all around us, and this was rendered still more appalling by the fearful shouts of the combatants and cries of the wounded that mingled in the uproar.
I now, strange to say, began to feel if my arms and legs were entire: for at such moments a man, I believe, is not always aware of his wounds. I had now, indeed, lost all the frenzy of courage that had first possessed me, and actually felt all weakness and prostration of spirit, while I endeavoured, among the dead and wounded bodies around me, to screen myself from the enemy’s shot; but while I lay in this position, the fire still continued blazing over me in all its horrors, accompanied by screams, groans, and shouts, and the crashing of stones and falling of timbers. I now, for the first time for many years, uttered something like a prayer.
After the horrible and well-known scene of carnage had lasted some time, the fire gradually slackened from the breach, I heard a cheering which I knew to proceed from within the town, and shortly afterwards a cry of “Blood and ’ounds! where’s the Light Division?—the town’s our own—hurrah!” This proceeded, no doubt, from some of the third division. I now attempted to rise, but, from a wound which I had received, but at what time I know not, found myself unable to stand. A musket-ball had passed through the lower part of my right leg—two others had perforated my cap, which I should have lost had I not taken the precaution to secure it with a cord under my chin before starting. At the moment of this discovery I saw two or three men moving towards me, who I was glad to find belonged to the Rifles. One of them, named O’Brien, of the same company as myself, immediately exclaimed, “What! is that you, Ned?—we thought you ladder-men all done for.” He then assisted me to rise.
In consequence of the chevaux-de-frise still remaining above the breach, we could not proceed over it until more men arrived to remove its fastenings. The third division meanwhile had entered the town on our right by the castle where there was no breach. We proceeded onwards, I moving with great difficulty, though partly supported by O’Brien. At the top of the breach we found another trench with a plank of wood lain across, leading into the town. Not until then I felt drops of blood trickling down my face, and found that one of the balls, in passing through my cap, had torn the skin on my head.
In this crippled state, leaning upon my comrade, and using his rifle as a crutch, accompanied by a few of our riflemen, I entered the town that had been so gloriously won. We hurried from the breach as quick as possible, lest the enemy should spring a mine, as they did at Ciudad Rodrigo. We still however heard occasional firing and cheering from the one end of the town, and imagined the fire was still raging, although, as we soon afterwards learnt, the chief part of the French had retired to the citadel or fort, where they surrendered on the following morning. Angry and irritated from the pain occasioned by the wound, we had just turned the corner of a street, when we observed some men, and, from the light that shone from a window opposite, we could see from their uniforms they were evidently Frenchmen. The moment they saw us they disappeared, with the exception of one man, who seemed to make a rush at us with his musket. O’Brien sprang forward and wrested the firelock from his grasp. A feeling of revenge, prompted by the suffering I endured from my wounds, actuated my feelings, and I exclaimed, “O’Brien, let me have the pleasure of shooting this rascal, for he may be the man who has brought me to the state I am now in!” I then presented the rifle close to his breast, with the full intention of shooting him through the body, but as my finger was about to press the trigger he fell upon his knees and implored mercy. The next moment the rifle dropped from my hand, and I felt a degree of shame that a feeling of irritation should have nearly betrayed me into the commission of a crime for which I could never have forgiven myself.
As soon as the Frenchman perceived me desist, he immediately started from his knees, and, by way of showing his gratitude, threw his arms round my neck, and kissed my cheek. He instantly followed me, and I for the time took him under my protection.
We now looked anxiously around for a house where we could obtain refreshment, and, if truth must be told, a little money. For even wounded as I was, I had made up my mind to be a gainer by our victory. At the first house we knocked at, no notice being taken of the summons, we fired a rifle-ball at the key-hole, which sent the door flying open. This, indeed, was our usual method of forcing locks. As soon as we entered the house we found a young Spanish woman crying bitterly, and praying for mercy. She informed us that she was the wife of a French officer; and to the demand of my companion, O’Brien, for refreshment, replied there was nothing but her poor self in the house. She, however, produced some spirits and chocolate, both of which, being very hungry and faint, I partook of with much relish.