it is too late now." I said, "Not if you choose to let me gallop at once and give him the order, and allow me to take command of one." He hesitated for a second, but on my repeating the offer and urging the necessity of my being off or it would be too late, he consented. I was soon up with Major Fearon. He took fifty to the left, and I the same number (not that we stopped to count) to the right. Immediately after this change my direction led through a patch of standing rye, where several of my little party fell, at first I supposed killed, for the enemy opened their guns as soon as they saw what we were about; but one man near my horse fell in such a manner that it struck me it was sham, and as he lay on his face I gave him rather a sharp prod with my sword-there was no time for any other appeal to his "honour"-on which he turned up perfectly unhurt! What became of him afterwards I know not; I had other matters to think of. I should here mention that Sir Denis Pack had ordered that none should load, but that the Hill should be carried with the bayonet (knowing well that if once. such troops as we had began firing they would never get to the top). While I was appealing to feelings of all sorts and had just got through the last of the rye, Pack overtook me, and said in a whisper, "Synge! I think those fellows won't carry it for you." I said, "Oh! yes, they will, we are over the worst of it." I meant the ground. The roar of the enemy's guns was tremendous as we approached the top, and somewhat unusual in its sound, for they tried to depress the muzzles of their guns as much as possible, and though they could not do so much harm, so steep was it, it sounded as if they all but touched the top of our heads. I have never heard the like before. Those following in support fared worse.

The last part of the ascent was so steep that it was almost impossible for a horse to climb it; even the men did so with difficulty-but I had a horse that would do what scarcely any horse would attempt. It was not until I was close upon the summit that I knew what we had to contend with, for I found the ground, which had at a little distance the appearance of a gentle slope, formed a natural wall of I suppose between three and four feet high, at the top of which it spread out into a level table-land, on which the enemy were drawn up in line about ten yards from me. We looked at each other for a moment. I saw immediately that what we had undertaken was impracticable, as the men could not mount the scarped ground without first laying their arms upon the top, and even then in such small numbers that it would be absurd-but I also saw that we were so easily covered by "the wall," and the enemy so exposed from head to foot, that if we fired they could not remain

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an instant. At this critical moment the head of Sir Noel Hill's column, which had followed me in support, was close up, and Hill himself called to me to ask what to do and what was before us (he could not see). I said, "Be quick, and let your leading company close up to this bank and fire away while the others deploy as fast as they can and fire as they get up-the enemy are exposed and we are protected by this parapet." To my horror Hill replied, "You forget we are not loaded!" "Well," said I, we have no other chance. Load away as fast as you can." He gave the word of command, and the men were in the act-I was addressing some few words of encouragement as well as the breathless state of anxiety I was in permitted (my poor old Ronald with great difficulty keeping his position on the steep), and two or three of the storming party were trying to scramble up the scarp, when the whole line opposed to us fired, knocked me over and literally cut to pieces the few that had climbed the "wall." My thigh was broken, and in falling, having no hold of the saddle, I could not in any manner save myself. Ronald made a couple of springs down the hill while I was falling, and this, together with the mangled bodies of those who fell back off the scarp on to the head of Hill's column, which in the confusion of loading was unable to see what was happening above, caused a sensation of panic which was complete.

The French line followed up their volley by charging up to the edge of the scarp, down which they leapt when they saw our confusion.

'Sir Niel Campbell's Grenadiers, the left column and all, went!-the disaster was complete. I had fallen to the ground on the near side of my horse, it being the left thigh that was broken, and was in great agony owing to a sort of instinctive effort to use the broken limb in which the marrow also seemed to be breaking. A gallant little fellow, an ensign, who was adjutant of Hill's Regiment, ran up to me and put his arms under mine to try and raise me, and if his strength had equalled his courage and goodwill he would have carried me off, but he was of the smallest stature. I told him that my thigh was broken, and that it was of no use. The bayonets of the charging army were all but touching him before I could persuade him to save himself, and I actually pushed him away. A lot of the French ran over where I was, and amongst them an officer, cheering them on. As he passed over me, seeing me twirling about in frightful agony owing to the position in which I had fallen, he called out at the appalling spectacle my state exhibited, "Oh! mon Dieu!" and then asked, "Est-ce-que vous êtes Anglais?" I said, "Yes," and he pointed to a man by his

side as he ran by and told him to save me. The man, who I suppose was a non-commissioned officer, did stop for a second or two, which perhaps saved my life. Some of the enemy then began to plunder those who had fallen, wounded, dying, or dead, and several began at me. I was in Hussar uniform, and wore all my riches about me, with some smart things. about my neck, which there was a scramble for. Most foreign soldiers, at least such as I have known, conceal their money in the waistband of the dress or inside the leg of the boot. To see if I had any such store some began cutting my clothes off, as you might have seen a sheep in the act of being shorn, and one began to pull off my boots. This was horrid, for my overalls were fastened down by curb-chain piping, and the attempt to get the boot off the broken limb was intolerable. I was soon left to go out of the world nearly as naked as I had first entered it.

'Just then my attention was called from my own state to a fine young fellow of the 1st Grenadiers, who was defending himself with his musket against four or five men who surrounded him, and who were all trying to bayonet him. I called to them to spare him as he was now their prisoner. Someone, who I believe was in authority, thought I wanted something for myself and seemed disposed to ascertain what I stood in need of, but when he learnt I was appealing for the young Portuguese sergeant, he turned away. "Oh! as for these canaille!." was all I heard, and how it ended I do not know, for I myself became an object for some of the same sort of extinguishers. Suddenly they were all called off to re-form on their original position on the top of the Arapiles, and I and the bodies of my comrades were left to our fate.

I could not perceive that any near me were alive. It was some time too before I could realise the particulars of my own situation. I was a prisoner. I was wounded. I was naked. An open artery was bleeding fast. I was dying. Could this be death? There could be no doubt about it, and in a few moments I should be dead. Having come to that conclusion I lay down to die, and, having said my prayers, waited with composure for the last struggle. After lying some little time expecting faintness and some of the usual symptoms of death, my attention was attracted by some cannon shot. The balls were literally ploughing the ground all about me. They were from our own Artillery, who were in reserve on the other hill of the Arapiles, and who had opened their guns on those with whom my body lay. I thought it probable that one of those balls must hit me, and I am afraid I must acknowledge that I sat up and stretched head as high as I could in the hope of a friendly ball ending

my

my misery. But it was not to be. God, in His mercy, willed it otherwise. I began to think that I should be a long time dying, for, though I had lost much blood, I still felt no faintness. Then, for the first time, it came into my head that somehow I might have "a chance," and I have often since thought of that "trying to put my head in the way of a friendly ball." It was not that I doubted His power who gave my life to preserve it. I knew well.

He could arrest the flying ball,

And send it back, and bid it fall

On those from whose proud ranks the thunder broke;

nor was it that I ever thought myself at liberty to put an end to my existence, but I considered that God's final decree was issued and that I had received my summons. Thousands of as good, or better, had already fallen, and every moment on that field someone was breathing his last, and I had no claim. to exemption. All I thought of doing at the time was to ease the last pang and palliate what, from my feeling of strength while bleeding so much, I imagined was likely to be a severe last struggle. I believe now that I was wrong, and the following anecdote will show how I felt on a former occasion when I was

judging for another. When we broke up from the Lines of Torres Vedras, and were driving Masséna's army out of Portugal, I think it was at the affair of Redinha, I remained in a pine wood, from which we had just dislodged the enemy, to point out the directions some different regiments were to take. Exactly at the spot I stood lay a man who had just fallen, shot through the head. He was insensible, but was writhing in the most violent contortions it was possible to conceive. So violent, indeed, and so unusual were they, that almost every man of a column of riflemen which was passing at the time uttered some exclamation. At last one of the men fell out of the column with the humane intention of putting the poor sufferer out of his misery. I had thought of it myself while I was waiting there, and was very doubtful if I should not do the same, on the principle of "doing as I would be done by "; nevertheless, I stopped the rifleman and desired him to join his regiment.'

There is a page of the Colonel's narrative missing. Pack's Brigade was rallied, and the arrival of the 6th Division prevented the disaster which their retreat had threatened. The Portuguese once more are led forward to the Arapiles, and the General himself comes across his wounded Aide-de-Camp, whom at first he does not recognise.

'At last he stopped his horse, looked for a second, and then said, "My dear Synge, is that you?" I said, "Yes, General,

here I am." The dear fellow put his hand across his eyes and as soon as he could speak asked me to tell him the worst at once, and what my wounds were. I told him. He then said a word of comfort, sent for a surgeon, and went on with his men. It seems he was moving to attack the Arapiles a second time. This attack was abandoned with only a skirmish, for the battle was won on the right wing, and seemed likely to go on well now on the left and in the centre. This, of course, I could not judge of.

In another moment my gallant, valued, tried friend, Sir Augustus West, who was Sir. Denis Pack's Staff Surgeon, came up. He said nothing to me, but made some men, who had placed me on a bearer, lay me down. I told him as much as was necessary. He soon untwisted my fine tourniquet, and said that it was very wrong, that it would be necessary to put on a bandage and splints at once, and that afterwards, when we got to the rear, he would see what was best to be done. While he was busy with me, never thinking whether he was under fire or not, some other kind friend had found a hospital wagon, and then my servant came up with my led horse. They placed me in a wagon and sent me, as I afterwards learnt, towards our line of retreat.

I knew nothing of what happened after Sir Augustus West left me, until they came to tell me that an escort with a "bearer" had arrived to carry me to Salamanca. With the movement my agonies began anew, though I was managed with more care than comes to the share of many. I could bear but little at a time. If the "bearer" was not kept stretched, or if one of the men made a false step it nearly put an end to me. However, I reached Salamanca, and was carried into a house allotted to me, and laid on a bed in one of those alcoves where beds are usually placed.

West was soon with me; he again set my limb with better means, and desired I should have a basin of water poured over the thigh every fifteen minutes until he came again. I was to have water to drink if I wanted it, but nothing else. Either Lord Clinton himself or somebody from him told me that one of the Duke's Aides-de-Camp was to take home the news of the victory, which I now understood was most glorious. So much so, that the Duke was pursuing the French in the direction

of Madrid.

I managed to write one line by Clinton to my father, which fortunately arrived by the same post which brought the news of the victory and the names of the killed and wounded.

It seemed as if "I was going on as well as could be expected," notwithstanding the excessive heat, when, about the