A few hours more were sufficient to purge the town of the infamous gang of robbers that still lurked about its streets, and those ruffians—chiefly Spaniards or Portuguese, not in any way attached to the army—were infinitely more dangerous than our fellows, bad as they were. Murder—except indeed in a paroxysm of drunkenness, and in many cases, I regret to say, it did occur in this way—never entered their thoughts, but the miscreants here referred to would commit the foulest deed for less than a dollar.
Towards evening tranquillity began to return, and, protected as they now were by a body of troops untainted by the disease which had spread like a contagion, the unfortunate inhabitants took advantage of the quiet that reigned; yet it was a fearful quiet, and might be likened to a ship at sea, which, after having been plundered and dismasted by pirates, is left floating on the ocean without a morsel of food to supply the wants of its crew, or a stitch of canvas to cover its naked masts; by degrees, however, some clothing, such as decency required, was procured for the females, by the return of their friends to the town; and many a father and mother rejoiced to find their children alive, although too often seriously and grossly injured. But there were also many who were denied even this sad consolation, for numbers of the townspeople had fallen in the confusion that prevailed; some of our officers also were killed in this way, and it has been said, I believe truly, that one, a colonel commanding a regiment, lost his life by the hands of his own men.
The plunder with which our camp was now filled was so considerable, and of so varied a description, that numerous as were the purchasers, and different their wants, they all had, nevertheless, an opportunity of suiting themselves to their taste; still the auction had not commenced in form, although, like other markets, “some private sales were effected.” From the door of my tent I had a partial view of what was taking place; but for the present I shall leave the marché, and describe how I myself was circumstanced from the period I reached my tent, wounded, on the morning of the 7th.
The two faithful soldiers, Bray and Macgowan, that conducted me there, on entering, found my truss of straw, or bed, if the reader will so allow me to designate it, occupied by Mrs. Nelly Carsons, the wife of my batman, who, I suppose, by the way of banishing care, had taken to drinking divers potations of rum to such an excess that she lay down in my bed, thinking, perhaps, that I was not likely again to be its occupant; or, more probably, not giving it a thought at all. Macgowan attempted to wake her, but in vain—a battery of a dozen guns might have been fired close to her ear without danger of disturbing her repose! “Why then, sir,” said he, “sure the bed’s big enough for yees both, and she’ll keep you nate and warm, for, be the powers, you’re kilt with the cold and the loss ov blood.” I was in no mood to stand on ceremony, or, indeed, to stand at all. I allowed myself to be placed beside my partner, without any further persuasion; and the two soldiers left us to ourselves and returned to the town. Weakness from loss of blood soon caused me to fall asleep, but it was a sleep of short duration. I awoke, unable to move, and, in fact, lay like an infant. The fire of small arms, the screams of the soldiers' wives, and the universal buzz throughout the camp, acted powerfully upon my nervous and worn-out frame; but Somnus conquered Mars, for I soon fell into another doze, in which I might have remained very comfortable had not my companion awoke sooner than I wished; discharging a huge grunt, and putting her hand upon my leg, she exclaimed, “Arrah! Dan, jewel, what makes you so stiff this morning?”
It required but few words from me to undeceive her. Tea and chocolate were soon in readiness, and having tasted some of the former, I sat up in my bed waiting the arrival of the first surgeon to dress my wound. My batman, Dan Carsons, shortly afterwards made his appearance; he led up to the door of my tent three sheep, and had, moreover, a pig-skin of enormous size filled with right good wine which the Spaniards call la tinta de la Mancha: “And sure,” said he, “I heard of your being kilt, and I brought you this (pointing to the pig-skin of wine), thinking what a nate bolster it i’d be for you while you slept at your aise,” and, without waiting for my reply, he thrust the pig-skin under my head. “And look,” said he, shewing me a spigot at the mouth of my bolster, “when you’re thirsty at-all-at-all, you see nothing is more pleasant or aisy than to clap this into your mouth, and sure won’t it be mate and dhrink for you too?”
“Oh, Jasus!” responded Nelly, “he’s kilt out and out; see, Dan, how the blood is in strames about the blankets.”
A little learning is a dangerous thing,
so—under certain circumstances—is a little laughing! and Dan Carsons and his wife made me laugh so immoderately, that a violent discharge of blood from my wound nearly put an end to my career in this world. Had it not been for the arrival of Dr. Grant, the staff-surgeon of the division, who just now made his appearance, I doubt much if any of my readers would ever have had the pleasure of reading these my reminiscences. But I must have done with myself, Dan Carsons, and his wife Nelly, and resume my narrative of the sale of the plunder with which our camp was, to use a mercantile phrase, glutted.
Early on the morning of the 9th of April a great concourse of Spaniards had already thronged our lines; the neighbouring villages poured in their quota of persons seeking to be the purchasers of the booty captured by our men, and each succeeding hour increased the supply for their wants, numerous and varied as they were, and our camp presented the appearance of a vast market. The scene after the taking of Rodrigo was nothing in comparison to the present, because the resources of Badajoz might be said to be in the ratio of five to one as compared with her sister fortress, and, besides, our fellows were, in an equal proportion, more dexterous than they had been in their maiden effort to relieve Rodrigo of its valuables. It may, therefore, be well supposed, and the reader may safely take my word for it, that the transfer of property was, on the present occasion, considerable. Some men realised upwards of one thousand dollars (about £250), others less, but all, or almost all, gained handsomely by an enterprise in which they had displayed such unheard-of acts of devotion and bravery; and it is only to be lamented that they tarnished laurels so nobly won by traits of barbarity for which it would be difficult to find a parallel in the annals of any army. The sale of the different commodities went on rapidly, notwithstanding we had no auctioneers; there was no “king’s duty,” but, most undeniably, if the Spaniards paid no “king’s duty,” they paid the piper! While the divers articles were carried away by the purchasers, the wounded were removed to the hospitals and camp, and the lamentations of the women for their dead or wounded husbands made a striking contrast to the scene of gaiety which almost everywhere prevailed.
Towards the evening of the 9th our camp was nearly emptied of all its saleable commodities, and the following morning was occupied in getting rid of the many Spaniards who still hovered about us, endeavouring to get a bargain of some of the unsold articles. By noon all traffic had ceased, and the men began to arrange themselves for a fresh combat with Marshal Soult, who was advancing towards Badajoz. The appearance and demeanour of the soldiery in no way warranted the idea that they had been occupied as they were for the last three weeks, but more especially for the last three days. They were the same orderly set of men they had been before the attack on the town, and were just as eager to fight Soult as they were to storm Badajoz: the only change visible was their thinned ranks. In my regiment alone, out of seven hundred and fifty privates, four hundred and thirty-four had fallen; and of the officers, who at the commencement of the siege counted twenty-four, but five remained unhurt! Our total loss exceeded five thousand men; and although no officer of a higher rank than colonel was killed, it is a singular circumstance that every general actively engaged was wounded on the night of the assault. Picton, Colville, Kempt, Walker, and Bowes, who headed the assaulting divisions and brigades, were every one of them hurt on that fatal 8th of April.[[27]]