The division drew up in the most profound silence behind the large quarry, three hundred yards from the three breaches, made in the bastions of la Trinidad, and Santa Maria. A small stream separated us from the fourth division. Suddenly, a voice was heard from that direction, giving orders about ladders, so loud, that it might be heard by the enemy on the ramparts. It was the only voice that broke on the stillness of the moment; every body was indignant, and Colonel M'Leod sent an officer to say that he would report the circumstance to the General-in-Chief. I looked up the side of the quarry, fully expecting to see the enemy come forth, and derange the plan of attack. It was at half-past nine this happened, but, at a quarter before ten, the ill-timed noise ceased, and nothing could be heard but the loud croaking of the frogs.
At ten a carcass was thrown from the town; this was a most beautiful fire-work, and illuminated the ground for many hundred yards; two or three fire-balls followed, and, falling in different directions, showed a bright light, and remained burning. The stillness that followed was the prelude to one of the strangest scenes that the imagination of man can conceive.
Soon after ten o'clock, a little whispering announced that "the forlorn hope" were stealing forward, followed by the storming parties, composed of three hundred men, (one hundred from each British regiment of our division;) in two minutes the division followed[22]. One musket shot, no more, was fired near the breaches by a French soldier, who was on the look out. We gained ground leisurely—but silently; there were no obstacles. The 52nd, 43rd, and part of the rifle corps, closed gradually up to column of quarter distance, left in front; all was hushed, and the town lay buried in gloom; the ladders were placed on the edge of the ditch, when suddenly an explosion took place at the foot of the breaches, and a burst of light disclosed the whole scene:—the earth seemed to rock under us:—what a sight! The ramparts crowded with the enemy—the French soldiers standing on the parapets—the fourth division advancing rapidly in column of companies on a quarter circle to our right, while the short-lived glare from the barrels of powder and combustibles flying into the air, gave to friends and foes a look as if both bodies of troops were laughing at each other.
A tremendous firing now opened on us, and for an instant we were stationary; but the troops were no ways daunted. The only three ladders were placed down the scarp to descend into the ditch, and were found exactly opposite the centre breach, and the whole division rushed to the assault with amazing resolution. There was no check. The soldiers flew down the ladders, and the cheering from both sides was loud and full of confidence.
While descending the ladders into the ditch, furious blows were exchanged amongst the troops in their eagerness to get forward; at the same time grape-shot and musketry tore open their ranks. The first officer I happened to see down was Captain Fergusson, who had led on our storming-party here, and at Rodrigo; he was lying to the right of the ladders, with a wound on the head, and holding a bloody handkerchief in his grasp[23]. I snatched it out of his hand, and tied it round his head. The French were then handing over the fire-balls, which produced a sort of revolving light. The ditch was very wide, and when I arrived at the foot of the centre breach, eighty or ninety men were formed. One cried out, "Who will lead?" This was the work of a moment. Death, and the most dreadful sounds and cries encompassed us. It was a volcano! Up we went; some killed, and others impaled on the bayonets of their own comrades, or hurled headlong amongst the outrageous crowd.
The chevaux-de-frise looked like innumerable bayonets. When within a yard of the top, I fell from a blow that deprived me of sensation. I only recollect feeling a soldier pulling me out of the water, where so many men were drowned. I lost my cap, but still held my sword. On recovering, I looked towards the breach. It was shining and empty! fire balls were in plenty, and the French troops standing upon the walls, taunting, and inviting our men to come up and try it again.
Colonel M'Leod was killed while trying to force the left corner of the large breach[24]. He received his mortal wound within three yards of the enemy, just at the bottom of some nine-feet planks, studded with nails, and hanging down the breach from under the chevaux-de-frise.
At half-past eleven the firing slackened, and the French detached soldiers from the breaches to repulse the other attacks, and to endeavour to retake the castle. I heard the enemy calling out on the ramparts in German, "All is well in Badajoz!"
The British soldiers did as much as men could do. The wood-work of the chevaux-de-frise was ponderous, bristling with short stout sword-blades fastened in it, and chained together. It was an obstacle not to be removed, and the French soldiers stood close to it, killing deliberately every man who approached it. The large breach was at one time crowded with our brave troops; I mean the fourth division, the heroes of many hard-fought victories and bloody fields. The light division had recently been crowned with victory; but to remove such obstacles was impracticable by living bodies, pushing against them up a steep breach, and sinking to the knees every step in rubbish, while a fearless enemy stood behind pushing down fragments of masonry and live shells, and firing bullets, fixed on the top of pieces of wood, the sides of which were indented with seven or eight buck shot.