The Night Assault of Ciudad Rodrigo
The enemy, immediately on discovering the presence of the British soldiers, commenced firing and throwing lighted shells and hand grenades at them.
On the appearance of the 94th the fire of the garrison was redoubled, but it was decided by the officers that it was better to die like men on the breach than like dogs in a ditch, and so, with a wild “Hurrah!” they all sprang up, absolutely eating fire. The breach must have been 70 feet wide, and consisted of a nearly perpendicular mass of loose rubbish, in which it was very difficult to obtain a footing.
The enemy lost no time. They pointed two guns downwards from the flanks and had time to fire several rounds of grape, working fearful destruction on the British. On the margin of the breach were ranged a quantity of shells, which were lighted and rolled down on them; but they acted rather as a stimulus to push up, and so avoid their explosion. The top of the breach was defended by a strong body of the garrison, who maintained a heavy fire of musketry, and hurled down hand-grenades and fire-balls. However, a night attack, with all its defects, has the advantage of concealing from the view much of danger and of difficulty that, if seen, might shake the nerve.
But there was no time for hesitation, no choice for the timid. The front ranks were forced onwards by the pressure of those in the rear, and as men fell wounded on the breach, there they lay, being trodden into and covered by the shifting rubbish displaced by the feet of their comrades. Some few, more lucky, when wounded fell or rolled down the slope into the ditch, and they added by their outcries to the wildness of the scene. The enemy’s resistance slackened, and they suddenly fled. Some guns they left behind in their panic.
It was now seven o’clock; the breach was carried, and the town virtually ours. About that time a wooden magazine placed on the rampart blew up, destroying our General and many with him, as well as a number of the garrison. Patterson of the 43rd and Uniacke of the 95th were of the number.
“I distinctly remember the moment of the explosion and the short pause it occasioned in our proceedings—a pause that enabled us to hear the noise of the attack still going forward near the little breach. I met Uniacke walking between two men. One of his eyes was blown out, and the flesh was torn from his arms and legs.
“I asked who it was. He replied, ‘Uniacke,’ and walked on.