This animating address was received by the men, not with shouts and hurrahs, but still better, with a deep and silent attention, indicating firmness of decision and earnestness of purpose.

The regiment was drawn up in line, and many men had already fallen; the colours carried by Ensigns Joseph Owgan and William Grattan, were pierced by numerous bullets, and three of the colour-serjeants were wounded, when Captain Dunne returned, and reported to Colonel Wallace, that besides the mass in his front, which was only the advance of a column about to assail him, a body of riflemen had occupied a cluster of rocks on the right of the regiment, and the main body of the enemy was moving towards an open space which separated the Eighty-Eighth from the Forty-Fifth regiment. Cool and unruffled amongst the dangers that surrounded him, Lieutenant-Colonel Wallace asked Captain Dunne if he thought half the battalion would be sufficient to do the business. “No,” was the reply, “you will want every man you can bring forward.” “Very well,” said Colonel Wallace, “I am ready—Soldiers; mind what I have said to you—I have nothing more to add—it now rests with yourselves.”

Lieutenant-Colonel Wallace then threw the battalion into column right in front, but had scarcely reached the rocks, when a murderous fire was opened upon him; without losing his presence of mind for a moment, he filed the grenadiers and two battalion companies out of the column, ordering them to carry the rocks at all hazards, while with the remainder of the battalion he pressed on against the main body of the enemy.

The Eighth Portuguese regiment had not yet opened its fire; it was too distant: four companies of the Forty-Fifth were engaged in an unequal combat, bravely but ineffectually disputing every inch of ground with a far superior force by which they were assailed: their brave commander, Major Gwynne, had already fallen, and these companies were on the very brink of being annihilated, when the Eighty-Eighth rushed to their assistance, and the two corps precipitated themselves into the midst of the French column, consisting of their Second, Fourth, and Thirty-Sixth regiments, and Irish brigade, and forming the advance of Reynier’s division; they received one dreadful discharge of musketry, but only one; before a second could be thrown in, they had passed through the French column, and completely overthrowing it, drove it down the mountain side with a mighty clamour and confusion, covering the ground with the dead and dying, even to the bottom of the valley.

In the mean time, the three companies of the Eighty-Eighth which had been detached to drive the French riflemen from the rocks on the right, had been engaged in a severe and desperate struggle. In the advance they were exposed to the deliberate aim of practised marksmen ranged amphitheatrically rank above rank, and protected by the rocks of which they had just taken possession; arrived at the point of contest, both officers and men were soon engaged in a hand-to-hand fight. The French defended themselves with more than usual desperation, for they were aware that escape was out of the question, and that they had no alternative between repelling their assailants and being slain on the spot, or hurled headlong down the precipitous rocks on which they had established themselves. Twenty minutes, however, sufficed to decide the question, and to teach the heroes of Marengo and Austerlitz[7] that, with every advantage of position on their side, they must yield to the Rangers of Connaught.

During this short but arduous conflict Captain Dansey was severely wounded, and Captain Dunne had a hair-breadth escape of swelling the return of killed. He had made a cut with his sabre at one of the French riflemen, but struck short, the man being above the reach of his weapon; the Frenchman’s bayonet, on the other hand, was within a few inches of Captain Dunne’s breast, and his finger on the trigger; one word was shouted by Captain Dunne—it was the name of a serjeant in the regiment, “Brazel!” He heard the call through all the din of battle, and rushing forwards, although he fell upon his face in making the lunge, buried his halberd in the Frenchman’s body, and rescued his officer from certain death.

Lord Wellington, who had been a near spectator of the achievements of the Eighty-Eighth, bestowed the warmest encomiums on the regiment. He galloped up to it, and taking Lieutenant-Colonel Wallace by the hand, said, “Wallace, I never saw a more gallant charge than that just now made by your regiment.” In his public despatches he repeated the expressions of approbation which he had used during the heat of the combat, as the following extracts will show:—

The Colonel of the Eighty-Eighth, Marshal Beresford, joined in the praises bestowed upon his regiment, and recognised the faces of some of the veteran soldiers who had served in India, Egypt, and South America: these men crowded around him with that affectionate familiarity which the high-wrought feelings of such a moment, the sense of a community in past dangers, from which rank gave no protection, and a companionship in present safety, sometimes permitted even from the private soldier to the general.

The cluster of rocks, so lately the scene of deadly conflict, presented a singular spectacle even to those whom use had familiarized with such sights. At their foot many of the Eighty-Eighth were stretched on the field, while in the chasms were to be seen numerous Frenchmen still in the very attitude in which death had overtaken them; some reclining backwards against a crag as if asleep, others leaning forwards over a projecting stone, as in the act of firing; while at the foot of the precipice, on the further side, were many who had been dashed to pieces in their vain endeavours to escape.

The instances of individual bravery displayed by the officers and men of the Eighty-Eighth at Busaco were numerous. Colonel Wallace, finding the charger on which he was mounted at the commencement of the day, was terrified by the firing, and reared frequently, at once abandoned his horse, and fought for some time on foot at the head of his men. Captain Dansey, who commanded one of the companies that attacked the rocks, and who was severely wounded, distinguished himself so as not only to obtain the immediate commendation of his Colonel and the admiration of his comrades, but was also particularly noticed in the despatches of the Commander-in-Chief. Lieutenant William Mackie, to whom Lieutenant-Colonel Wallace confided the command of the battalion-men sent early in the day to support the light infantry, displayed all the courage and coolness necessary in so critical a moment; he was frequently nearly surrounded by the enemy, but escaped unhurt, and, on rejoining the regiment, was loudly cheered by the men. Lieutenant Heppenstall, a young officer, whose first appearance under fire was on this occasion, was frequently mixed with the enemy’s riflemen, and shot two of them, one an officer. Lieutenant William Nickle, serving with the light company, was deliberately singled out by a Frenchman whose third shot passed through his body, but without killing him; as he was proceeding to the rear the same Frenchman sent a fourth shot after him, which knocked off his cap, cheering at the same time. “Get on, Nickle,” said Heppenstall, “I’ll stop that fellow’s crowing.” He waited quietly till the man approached within sure distance, and then revenged his wounded comrade by shooting the Frenchman dead. Corporal Thomas Kelly, of the fourth company, (the same man who shot the French officer in the retreat through the wood near the Alberche at Talavera,) was severely wounded in the thigh at the commencement of the charge against the French column, but continued to run with his company down the hill, until he fell through exhaustion and loss of blood.

The loss of the regiment at Busaco amounted to nine officers and one hundred and twenty-four non-commissioned officers and privates killed and wounded. The officers killed were Major Silver, Lieutenant H. Johnston, and Ensign Leonard; the wounded, Major Macgregor, Captains Dansey, M‘Dermot, and Bury; and Lieutenants Fitzpatrick and Nickle.

Unable to overcome the allied army in combat, the French commander turned its flank; when Lord Wellington retired to the celebrated lines of Torres Vedras, where he opposed a resistance which compelled the French Marshal, notwithstanding his superior numbers, to relinquish his design upon Lisbon. The Eighty-Eighth formed part of the troops which occupied the town and lines of Torres Vedras. The weather was unusually wet, and the army being but indifferently supplied with the materials necessary for the construction of good huts, suffered much from the inclemency of the season; yet, notwithstanding the fatigues of the severe campaign it had gone through, the unfavourableness of the weather to health, and the living principally on salted provisions, of which the rations served out to the army chiefly consisted, the regiment continued in the most effective state. The French, however, suffered much greater privations, and eventually they were forced to retire.

On the 14th of November, Marshal Massena (Prince of Esling) left his position during the night, and took the road to Santarem. This operation was performed under cover of a dark and stormy night, and the enemy effectually succeeded in deceiving the British piquets by substituting straw figures, in place of his veteran tirailleurs, admirably appointed with caps and accoutrements, and by this ruse succeeded in effecting his movement without loss; verifying an old remark, that “men of straw,” by putting on a good appearance, often deceive their neighbours.

The allied army moved forward; the head-quarters were established at Cartago, and the third division occupied the village of Togarro. The French commander was subsequently forced to retire from his position.

In the pursuit of Massena towards the frontiers of Portugal, the Third division was not much engaged with the enemy, but the continual marches to turn the flanks of the French army subjected it to great fatigue. In the course of these marches and constant skirmishes, the regiment lost a most intelligent and enterprising officer, Lieutenant Heppenstall, already mentioned; he fell in the action of Foz-d’Aronce, on the 15th of March, 1811. He was buried at the foot of a pine, near the spot where he fell, under the direction of Dr. Arthur Stewart.

In the action at Sabugal, the Eighty-Eighth, though present, was not actually engaged, a severe storm of snow and hail, which fell just at the moment the Third division, having issued from the woods on the enemy’s right, was about to charge, completely hiding the French corps (General Reynier’s) from view, and giving its commander an opportunity of retiring unattacked.

On the first two days of Fuentes d’Onor, it was in position, but on the third and decisive day of that glorious battle it had a brilliant opportunity of distinguishing itself, and earning another honorary inscription for its colours.

The village of Fuentes d’Onor, which is situated on some low ground, with an old chapel and a few buildings on a craggy eminence at one end, had been the scene of a long, protracted, and sanguinary contest on the 3rd of May; the lower part of the village had been several times taken and retaken, and during the night each army occupied that part of the village which had remained in its possession when darkness and mutual exhaustion put a temporary stop to the battle. The following day was wholly passed in reconnoitering and manœuvres; the British force in Fuentes d’Onor was considerably reinforced from the First division, and amongst other regiments sent to aid in its defence were the Seventy-First and Seventy-Ninth. Soon after day-break on the 5th, the attack was recommenced by the French with increased numbers and renewed fury. Lord Wellington observing the serious efforts of Massena upon this point, and fully appreciating its importance, ordered the Twenty-Fourth, Forty-Fifth, Seventy-Fourth, and Eighty-Eighth British, together with the Ninth and Twenty-First Portuguese regiments, to its support.

It was now about half-past twelve o’clock; the combat in the village had lasted without intermission for eight hours during a day of oppressive heat, and our ammunition was nearly expended. The Highlanders were driven to the church-yard at the top of the town, where they were fighting with the French grenadiers over the tomb-stones and graves, while the Ninth French light infantry had penetrated as far as the chapel, only a short distance from our line, and were preparing to débouche upon our centre. Lord Wellington was on the spot, and surveyed what was passing with the immovable coolness which always characterized him; the troops in the town were nearly worn out in the contest and about to retire, when the Eighty-Eighth was ordered to their support, and changed the face of affairs. Colonel the Honourable Edward Pakenham, who was in the hottest of the fire, had inquired what regiments were in reserve; and when the Eighty-Eighth was named amongst others, asked, “Is Wallace with the Eighty-Eighth?” and on being replied to in the affirmative, said, “Tell him to come down then, and drive these fellows back; he will do the thing properly.”

The battalion was ordered to advance in column of sections, left in front, in double-quick time. As it passed down the road leading to the chapel it was warmly cheered by the troops lying at each side the wall, but the soldiers gave no cheer, no reply; they were placed, and they felt it, in a situation of great distinction; they were about to fight not only under the eye of their own general and his army, but in full view, also, of the French army; their feelings were wound up to the highest pitch of enthusiasm, but there was no huzzaing, no noise, or talking in the ranks; the men, headed by their brave Colonel, stepped together at a smart pace under a very heavy fire of artillery and musketry, as steady and as silent as if on parade. The company which led this attack was commanded by Ensign William Grattan. When they came within sight of the French Ninth regiment, which was drawn up at the corner of the chapel ready to receive them, he turned round to observe the state of his men; the soldiers understood his look and action, and replied to it by a cheer, the first they had given, and which, so given, showed plainly that their hearts were in a right state.

The enemy had not remained idle spectators of this movement; a battery of eight pounders advanced at a gallop on the opposite side of the river, and opened a heavy fire on the Eighty-Eighth, hoping to annihilate it, or at least to check its progress and cripple its efforts, but the battalion, regardless of the grape which was showered upon it, continued to press on, and, in fact, suffered but slightly from the cannonade to which it was exposed. Arrived within a few yards of the chapel they were met by the Ninth French regiment, supported by some hundreds of the Imperial Guard, who rushed on with their usual impetuosity and bravery, uttering loud shouts and throwing in their fire as they advanced; the Eighty-Eighth replied with the bayonet, and rapidly closing with their enemies, so totally overthrew them, that they were not able to rally afterwards. The exhausted but brave troops that had been so seriously engaged all the morning, now joined in the pursuit, and in less than fifteen minutes from the time the Eighty-Eighth commenced its attack there was not a French combatant in the village: their whole force was driven across the rivulet, and many of the British in their pursuit fell on the French side of the stream.

About one hundred and fifty of the Old French Guard in their flight ran down a street which was one of the few that had escaped the fury of the morning attack, and the further end of which, unknown to them, had been barricaded by our troops the night before. Shut up thus in a complete cul-de-sac, the result may be easily imagined;—it was a frightful slaughter, but it was unavoidable. Troops advancing to assault a town, flushed, indeed, with victory, but uncertain whether that victory may not be wrenched the next minute from their grasp, have no time to deliberate. Some of the French Guard sought a vain refuge in bursting open the houses and ascending the chimneys, but their enemies were too close at their heels for them to succeed. This attack was headed by Lieutenant George Johnston, who, not satisfied with clearing one street, immediately proceeded to the next, where the enemy still made a show of resistance, and at length carried away by feelings very natural at such a moment, he climbed up to the top of a stone cross, erected in a square at the river’s edge, and taking off his hat waved it in defiance towards the enemy. The French, however, made no further effort to recover the place, but confined themselves to a heavy cannonade which they continued to pour into the streets, utterly regardless of its murderous effects upon their own wounded. From this cannonade the men of the Eighty-Eighth were ordered by Colonel the Honourable Edward Pakenham to shelter themselves, when they took a position behind a wall in the rear of the chapel, and soon afterwards evacuated the town, which was occupied by the light division under Brigadier-General Robert Craufurd.

When the Eighty-Eighth was ordered by Colonel Mackinnon to resume its place in brigade, the enemy’s fire had ceased, but as soon as they were seen in motion, it recommenced with double fury; the wall was knocked down in several places, and one round shot passed between Colonel Pakenham and Lieutenant-Colonel Wallace, who were on horseback close to each other. It carried away the top of the wall, one of the stones striking Lieutenant-Colonel Wallace on the head and knocking his hat off, but doing him no further injury, though, for the moment, his men believed he had been killed. The regiment then quitted the place by companies in file as the safest way to avoid the effects of the cannonade: the companies returned, left in front. Colonel Pakenham, with his hat shot through the leaf, and his hand wrapped up in a pocket handkerchief, called out to Ensign Grattan as he passed at the head of the foremost company, to know where he was going, and why he left the village. Being told that it was in consequence of orders from Colonel Mackinnon, Colonel Pakenham replied, “I did not observe your number. Do as you are directed; your regiment has done enough for this day; but you may tell whatever troops you meet, that each man may as well bring a keg of ammunition under his arm, for those rascals shall never get possession of the town as long as I have life.” By four o’clock in the afternoon the regiment had joined its brigade.

The conduct of the Eighty-Eighth at Fuentes d’Onor (as at Busaco) obtained the particular notice of Lord Wellington, who, in his despatch containing the account of that battle, says, “On one of these occasions, the Eighty-Eighth, with the Seventy-First and Seventy-Ninth, under the command of Colonel Mackinnon, charged the enemy, and drove them through the village. Colonel Mackinnon has reported particularly the conduct of Lieutenant-Colonel Wallace and Lieutenant and Adjutant Stewart of the Eighty-Eighth regiment.”

The loss of the regiment was not so great as might have been expected from the brilliancy and seriousness of the affair in which it had been engaged. This comparatively small loss is to be attributed to the great steadiness and regularity of the men in their different attacks, and to the rapidity with which, on all occasions, they closed with their adversaries. Only one officer, Captain Irwin, was killed, and four wounded, viz. Lieutenants Stewart, Macalpin, and Halket, and Ensign Owgan. Of non-commissioned officers and privates, seven were killed and fifty-three wounded.

For a few days after the battle of Fuentes d’Onor, the Eighty-Eighth occupied the village of Navez de Aver, and was then ordered to the south to join the forces engaged in the siege of Badajoz. No opportunity occurred during this siege for the regiment to distinguish itself as a body, but many detached instances of intrepidity were displayed by the men as circumstances gave them an opportunity. Amongst others, on the day before the first assault on St. Christoval (the 5th of June), Private Edmund Man, of the grenadier company, was employed in repairing a damaged embrasure in one of the batteries against the castle. He was sitting outside the embrasure, pegging in a fascine, when Colonel Fletcher, the commanding engineer, who, though fearless of any danger as far as regarded himself, was particularly tenacious of allowing the soldiers to expose themselves unnecessarily, called to him, “Come in, my fine fellow, and you will do your work as well, or nearly so at all events.” “It’s hardly worth while, Colonel,” replied Man, “I am just finished, and they cannot hit me, for they have been trying it hard this quarter of an hour.” The words were scarcely out of the brave fellow’s mouth, when a round shot cut him in two, the French cannoniers cheering loudly at the same time at the accuracy of their practice.

When the siege of Badajoz was raised in the month of June, the Eighty-Eighth proceeded to quarters in Campo Mayor, where the second battalion, which had joined the army on the advance from the lines of Torres Vedras, was drafted into the first, making it a fine effective corps, numbering upwards of one thousand bayonets. The staff of the second battalion then returned to England to recruit.

In the autumn of this year the regiment was selected to support the outposts of the army against the attacks of the French garrison of Ciudad Rodrigo, and was cantoned in the villages of El Bodon, La Encina, and Pastores. The French had been in the habit of plundering the country around, and successful in several of their excursions previous to the arrival of the Eighty-Eighth. A few nights after the regiment occupied Pastores, its outposts were attempted by a party from the garrison, which was immediately repulsed with loss, and its commander killed on the spot by Corporal John Walsh of the light infantry company. It was the first and also the last attempt the enemy made on the Eighty-Eighth during its stay in the neighbourhood.

The blockade of Ciudad Rodrigo was completed on the 5th of September, and preparations for the siege commenced, when the junction of Marshal Marmont and Count Dorsenne obliged Lord Wellington to abandon the design for a time. On the 25th of the same month, the third division was attacked at El Bodon by General Montbrun, and fell back upon Fuente Guinaldo, in good order and with little loss, although the distance was eight miles, and the retreat was made in the face of a powerful artillery and cavalry force. The Eighty-Eighth suffered but slightly in this affair, and occupied for its winter-quarters, or rather quarters of repose, the village of Aldea da Ponte.

In the depth of the ensuing winter the army was suddenly called from its cantonments to the siege of Ciudad Rodrigo, the investment of which fortress was effected on the 8th of January, 1812. The service of the trenches was carried on by the first, third, fourth, and light divisions alternately, each taking the duty for four-and-twenty hours. The weather was severe, and the troops without covering, but the men were in high health and spirits, and the siege was prosecuted with so much vigour, that on the 19th of the same month, two practicable breaches having been made in the body of the place, Lord Wellington determined to carry it by storm.

The third and light divisions had the honour to be selected for this service; the latter was directed to attack the left or smaller breach, while the assault of the grand breach was confided to the former. The fourth division was in reserve. It was half-past six in the evening when the orders for storming the town arrived; Colonel Wallace was absent from the army on account of ill-health, and the command of the Eighty-Eighth devolved upon Major Thompson. A few minutes before the brigade was formed for the attack, Major-General Mackinnon sent for Major Thompson, and told him, he wished the forlorn hope to be led by a subaltern officer of the Eighty-Eighth; adding, that in the event of such officer surviving, he should be recommended for, and as a matter of course would obtain, a company. Major Thompson felt the distinguished compliment to the Eighty-Eighth which this intimation of the General’s wish conveyed, and calling his officers together, informed them of it. Lieutenant William Mackie, then senior-lieutenant, instantly stepped forward, and dropping his sword, said, “Major, I am ready for that service.” “Go then,” replied the Major, taking him by the hand, “Go, and God bless you!” The soldiers, who were close at hand, heard what passed, and some difficulty arose in selecting, out of the numbers who pressed forward claiming on some pretence or other the preference in danger, the twenty to which the Forlorn Hope was limited. The selection, however, was quickly made from the company which Lieutenant Mackie commanded.

The regiment was formed in sections, right in front, and everything in readiness to obey the signal gun for the advance, when Lieutenant-General Picton and Major-General Mackinnon appeared accompanied by their staff. Long harangues are seldom made to British soldiers, and in the present instance Lieutenant-General Picton’s words were few, but at the same time too animating, and too characteristic of himself, not to be recorded verbatim. They were, “Rangers of Connaught! It is not my intention to expend any powder this evening: we will do this business with the cold iron.”

The troops then entered the trenches with Major-General Mackinnon at their head; on leaving the approaches they advanced rapidly over the rugged ground leading to the breach, many of the men carrying bags filled with grass to throw into the ditch and break the descent. Arrived at the foot of the breach they speedily mounted, but met with a very gallant resistance, and many men and officers fell: amongst the latter was the commander of the Brigade, Major-General Mackinnon, who was killed with many others by an explosion of gunpowder in the moment of victory. On each side the breach was a twenty-four pounder, every discharge from which swept it with a raking fire. Major Thompson of the Seventy-Fourth (acting engineer), observing the destruction occasioned by these guns, ordered the few men who were next at hand to storm the one on the left; the nearest men happened to be three of the Eighty-Eighth, Brazel, who saved Captain Dunne’s life at Busaco, Kelly and Swan. Beneath them and the gun was a deep retrenchment, which would have rendered it impossible for them to reach it in time to anticipate its next fatal discharge, if they were encumbered with their firelocks. Without a moment’s hesitation they threw aside the heavier weapon, and armed only with their bayonets, leaped the interposing barrier, rushed up to the muzzle of the piece, and after a short but terrific combat (in which Swan lost his arm by the stroke of a sabre) put all the French cannoniers to death and silenced the gun. The troops on the breach were now safe from the havock which had a few minutes before been so fatal to their comrades, and in half an hour the town was carried.

Lieutenant Mackie, guided by the fugitives of the garrison, was the first to arrive with his party at the gates of the citadel, where the enemy inquired for a General Officer to receive their surrender. The Lieutenant being a Grenadier officer, pointed to his epaulettes as a guarantee of their safety in surrendering to him, and the gate was immediately opened. The officer commanding the advance of the light division coming up at the moment, the governor and his staff were conducted to Lord Wellington, who had by this time reached the ramparts.

Lieutenant Faris was engaged during the assault in a desperate hand-to-hand conflict. Two French grenadiers, observing him far in advance of his men, attacked him. One fired and immediately ran away, his bullet passing through the Lieutenant’s coat; the other then fired, wounded him slightly in the thigh, and immediately closed upon him with the bayonet, making a thrust at the body, which Lieutenant Faris parried with his sabre, but received a severe wound in the leg; a personal struggle then took place, from which Lieutenant F. at length succeeded in disengaging himself, and killed his adversary by a sabre cut on the head. By this time he was completely exhausted, and was obliged to be carried into the next house. His wounds, however, though severe, were neither of them dangerous, and he soon recovered.

The loss of the Eighty-Eighth before Ciudad Rodrigo was one officer, Lieutenant Beresford, and twenty rank and file killed; four Lieutenants, Flack, Armstrong, Johnston, and W. Kingsmill, two serjeants, and fifty-four rank and file wounded. Lord Wellington in his despatches notices the third division and this regiment in the following words,—

After the reduction of Ciudad Rodrigo, the regiment occupied the village of Albergeria until the middle of February, when it marched towards the South to join the forces in Alentejo, and act against the fortress of Badajoz. In this siege the duty of the trenches was performed by the third, fourth, and sixth divisions, about sixteen thousand strong, while the French garrison amounted to six thousand. The place was invested on the 16th of March, and the trenches opened the same night. On the night of the 19th the garrison made a sortie with two thousand men against the right of the trenches with great gallantry, and at first with considerable success, but were finally driven back to the town with loss. In that part of the British line which faced the advanced fort called La Picurina, were two batteries in a forward state, occupied by a party of the Forty-Fifth and Eighty-Eighth, under the command of Captain Hogan of the Eighty-Eighth. The trenches were in such a state from the rain which had fallen almost incessantly from the commencement of the siege, that the working parties were up to their knees in water, and it was deemed right to keep the covering troops as much as possible out of the wet ground. About half an hour before the usual time of relieving the guard of the trenches, Ensigns Darcy and Grattan of the Eighty-Eighth, although the smoke of the French batteries combined with a heavy fog rendered it impossible to distinguish objects at any distance, thought they observed symptoms of the enemy’s meditating a sortie from the Picurina Fort. Without waiting for orders, they instantly directed the working party to throw down their tools and resume their arms; in the next moment, and before many of the men were in readiness to act, the French made a rush at the battery No. 2, but were received at the point of the bayonet, by the few assembled men of the Forty-Fifth and Eighty-Eighth, and thus the readiness and presence of mind of two young officers, and the firmness of a handful of brave men, preserved the half finished works from destruction. Some of the soldiers pursued the repulsed enemy as far as the glacis of the town, and two privates of the Eighty-Eighth, Kelly of the fourth company (who has been already mentioned for his conduct at Talavera, Busaco, and Ciudad Rodrigo) and M‘Gowan of the grenadiers particularly distinguished themselves.

On the 24th the regiment lost one Lieutenant (North) killed, and had another Lieutenant (Stewart) wounded, by the fire of the place. On the evening of the 25th it was determined to storm the Picurina redoubt; five hundred men of the third division were ordered upon that duty, and amongst them a detachment of the Eighty-Eighth, commanded by Captain Oates and Lieutenant George Johnston. The latter officer was a volunteer; it was not his tour of duty in the trenches, and he still carried his arm in a sling from the effects of his wound at Ciudad Rodrigo; but the moment he heard that Captain Oates, who was the Captain of his company, was to be of the storming party, he determined to join him. The first attack was made at the gorge of the redoubt, but the defences were too strong and the resistance too obstinate even for troops accustomed to victory; repulsed there, however, and with severe loss, they did not abandon the attack in despair; gliding round the flanks and faces of the work, they sought for, and at length obtained, an entry by scaling the ramparts. In one of these attempts the ladders proving too short, Captain Oates observing that the ditch though very deep was narrow, called out, “Come, boys, though the ladders are too short to mount up the ditch, let us try our hand with them across it.” In a few minutes three ladders were pitched from the glacis into the mouth of an embrasure, and across them, in spite of a severe fire of musketry and grape. Captain Oates led the way into the redoubt; here he soon fell, disabled by a severe wound, and Lieutenant Johnston was killed within a few paces of him; in fact, of fifteen officers who were with the party not one escaped unhurt.

During the further progress of the siege, the regiment lost a field-officer, Major Thompson, who was killed in the trenches on the night of the 28th, and on the same night Brevet-Major Murphy was wounded. In the final assault on the 6th of April, the escalade of the castle was the duty allotted to the third division. Lieutenant Whitelaw of the Eighty-Eighth volunteered to lead the advance of twenty men, but less fortunate than his brother officer, Lieutenant Mackie at Ciudad Rodrigo, fell at the moment of victory; Captain Lindsay of the Eighty-Eighth was also killed while in the act of raising a ladder for his company to escalade the castle wall; three other Lieutenants were killed (Mansfield, Cotton, and Macalpine); and one Captain (Peshall) and four Lieutenants (Faris, Armstrong, Davern, and Grattan) wounded. Mr. Thomas Martin, eldest son of Richard Martin, Esq., many years M.P. for Galway, who had joined the regiment as a volunteer soon after the opening of the trenches and accompanied the grenadiers in the assault, was also wounded in the shoulder. The total loss of the regiment before Badajoz, during the sieges in June, 1811, and in March and April, 1812, amounted to eight officers, five serjeants, and forty-two rank and file killed; and eight officers, ten serjeants, and one hundred and sixty-six rank and file wounded.

After the fall of Badajoz, the regiment returned to the frontiers of Beira, where it remained till the army again took the field in June. At the battle of Salamanca, (22nd July) the Eighty-Eighth, together with the Forty-Fifth and Seventy-Fourth, formed the right brigade of the third division, which was posted on the right of the army, opposite to the Seventh French division, under General Bonnet. Lieutenant-General Picton being at this time absent from the field on account of ill-health, the division was commanded by Major-General the Honourable Edward Pakenham, the brigade by Lieutenant-Colonel Alexander Wallace of the Eighty-Eighth, and the Eighty-Eighth itself by Major Seton, who had succeeded to that rank upon the death of Major Thompson in the trenches at Badajoz. It was five in the afternoon, when Lord Wellington rode up and desired Major-General the Hon. E. Pakenham to move the third division forward, and carry the heights and guns in his front. The division was at this time formed in open column, right in front, facing a hill behind which the French were posted, and on which were erected two batteries. The colours were just uncased, and the bayonets fixed, when Lieutenant-Colonel Wallace addressed a few animating words to the men, explaining their situation, and cautioning them to be aware of the enemy’s cavalry, which was watching them closely, and hanging on their flank: to the officers he said, “Gentlemen, the regiment is on this day, as it generally is on such occasions, tolerably strong, and (pointing to the batteries which crowned the hill in front) we are likely to have a good deal of noise about our ears. I would recommend you to place yourselves in the centre and front of your companies, which will prevent any mistake.”

The brigade now moved forward in one column, the Forty-Fifth leading, followed immediately by the Eighty-Eighth; the enemy opened a heavy fire from fourteen guns, which was replied to by a brigade of nine-pounders firing over the heads of the advancing column. When the smoke cleared away, Bonnet’s division was perceived advancing rapidly round the face of the hill, as if determined to anticipate attack; Major-General Pakenham now rode up to Lieutenant-Colonel Wallace and ordered him to wheel the brigade into line without halting, a manœuvre which evidently disconcerted the enemy, who nevertheless continued to advance with drums beating and keeping up a heavy fire of musketry. In spite of the enemy’s fusillade, Major-General Pakenham, Lieutenant-Colonel Wallace, and Majors Seton and Murphy, remained at the head of the Eighty-Eighth, which formed the centre of the brigade, and continued to advance steadily in line with firelocks on the rest. As the British advanced, the fire of the enemy slackened, and they seemed inclined to give way, when several of their officers advanced in front to animate the men, and one officer of the Twenty-Second, (the leading regiment of the French column,) seizing a firelock, ran out in front of his men and shot Major Murphy of the Eighty-Eighth through the heart. At the same moment a ball struck the pole of the King’s colour, cutting it nearly in two, and taking the epaulette off the shoulder of Lieutenant D’Arcy who carried it. The men now, for the first time, became impatient, and called out for revenge; Major-General Pakenham cheered, and desired Lieutenant-Colonel Wallace to let them loose; the men rushed into the midst of the fire, and a close and desperate, but short, conflict took place. The deep and ponderous column, so formidable in attack, was now completely overthrown, and at the mercy of its assailants; many of the French were killed and wounded, and the broken column pursued for about a quarter of a mile through an extensive but thinly-planted wood of cork-trees. At this moment a shout in the rear caused the pursuers to expect to have a charge of French cavalry to repel, but they were agreeably disappointed by having Major-General Le Marchant’s brigade of heavy cavalry to greet, instead of a fresh enemy to resist. The French could not withstand this new attack, and the whole column, originally seven thousand strong, was cut to pieces or captured, together with two eagles and eleven pieces of cannon.

Owing to the previous casualties at Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajoz, only four Captains were present with the regiment at Salamanca, and of these, one (Captain Mackie) acted as Aide-de-Camp to Lieutenant-Colonel Wallace, and when the heavy brigade charged, joined them in the attack. Two others (Murphy, brevet-major, and Hogan) were killed, and the fourth (Captain Adair) so severely wounded, as to survive the effects only a few months. Captain Tryon of the Eighty-Eighth, D.A.A.G., was likewise severely wounded. The Eighty-Eighth had also four Lieutenants (Meade, Nickle, Grattan, and Kingsmill) wounded; one serjeant and eighteen rank and file killed, and one serjeant and one hundred and nine rank and file wounded; the total of casualties amounting to seven officers and one hundred and twenty-nine non-commissioned officers and privates.

After the battle of Salamanca the Eighty-Eighth formed part of the corps which occupied Madrid during Lord Wellington’s march to Burgos, and on the evacuation of that capital in October following, returned to quarters in Portugal, where it received a strong detachment of the Second battalion, which again raised its effective strength to near one thousand rank and file. For the first time, also, since its arrival in the Peninsula, it was furnished with tents in common with the other regiments.

On the 16th of May, 1813, the Eighty-Eighth broke up from its cantonments at Leomel, and joined in the general advance of the army into Spain, under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Macpherson. In the course of the march an accident occurred both annoying and prejudicial to the regiment. In order to facilitate the movements of the army, to render the column of march less encumbered, and to lessen the fatigue of the troops, it was customary, when not in the presence of the enemy, to proceed either by brigades or single corps: Major-General Sir Thomas Brisbane’s brigade, of which the Eighty-Eighth formed part, moved by regiments. The Eighty-Eighth, on the route from Leomel to St. Jean de Pasquera, arrived at a spot where the road branched off in different directions, one leading to its proper point of destination, the other descending into the steep and precipitous country which forms the left bank of the Douro. By some unaccountable ignorance or misconception on the part of its guide, the regiment took the wrong road, and after struggling for some time through a series of rugged defiles, found itself at a late hour in the evening embedded in the mountains, and as distant from St. Jean de Pasquera as it had been when starting from its cantonments at Leomel. Some men died of the heat and fatigue, but the esprit de corps sustained the regiment through the long and severe forced march, across a country deeply intersected with ravines, thickly covered with gum cistus, and traversable only by goat-paths, by which it rejoined its division.

On the 27th of May the regiment entered Spain, and on the 20th of June, it was posted near the river Bayas, when dispositions were made for attacking the enemy in his position in front of Vittoria.

The troops were under arms an hour before daylight on the 21st, and the third and seventh divisions were destined to attack the enemy’s centre; but the French, having weakened their centre to support their flanks, which were first attacked, the centre column of the allied army did not meet with serious opposition. In front of the Eighty-Eighth the enemy occupied a hill of considerable elevation, from which he was forced by that regiment, while the Forty-Fifth and Seventy-Fourth made flank movements round its base, the French retiring to a second hill in the rear of their former position. The Eighty-Eighth, which had hitherto been in column, now deployed into line, and notwithstanding a heavy fire of musketry and artillery, continued to advance, till the enemy having rallied and brought up fresh troops, there was momentary halt by order of Sir Thomas Brisbane, who commanded the brigade. At this instant Lieutenant-General Sir Thomas Picton coming up, and feeling displeased at the halt, made use of some harsh expressions to the Eighty-Eighth as the leading corps, which led to an immediate explanation from Sir Thomas Brisbane, when the regiment again moved forward and headed the brigade in the attack upon the town of Vittoria. During the day the Eighty-Eighth charged several times, but the enemy never waited to receive them, and it was generally observed among the soldiers, that so far as this regiment was concerned, King Joseph’s army at Vittoria proved decidedly the worst fighting army they had encountered.

The loss of the regiment at Vittoria was one officer, Ensign Saunders, and thirty rank and file killed; four officers, Captain M‘Dermott, and Lieutenants Flood, Fitzpatrick, and Faris; two serjeants, and one hundred and ninety-five rank and file wounded; in all, two hundred and thirty-two.

The expressions used by Sir Thomas Picton became afterwards the subject of remonstrance, and even of a memorial to the Duke of Wellington. The result was that, after due explanations, a letter satisfactory to the regiment was addressed by Sir Thomas Picton to Sir Thomas Brisbane, as Commander of the brigade, declaring that, after the many instances of gallantry he had witnessed in the Eighty-Eighth, it could never have been his intention to cast any reflections on that corps, by words uttered in a moment of irritation, and adding, that his divisional order after the battle should be received as a sufficient proof of this. The following is an extract of that order:—