advanced up
yonder street into this square, and we captured several mules going
with ammunition to the trenches. But the square was empty and silent
as the streets, and the houses as bright with lamps; a terrible
enchantment seemed to be in operation; for we saw nothing but light,
and heard nothing but the low whispers around us, while the tumult at
the breach was like the crashing thunder. There, though the place was
already carried on two sides, by Picton's column and ours, the
murderous conflict still raged; we still heard the shots, and shouts,
and infernal uproar, while hundreds and hundreds fell and died after
fierce assault and desperate resistance were alike vain. We pushed on
that way to take the garrison in reserve, but our weak battalion was
repulsed by their reserve, and some time elapsed before the French
found out that Badajoz had changed hands."

"But it was ours!" exclaimed Lady Mabel, "though too dearly bought."

"The carnage was dreadful," said Cranfield; "and when the full extent
of that night's havoc became known to Lord Wellington, the firmness of
his nature gave way for a moment, and the pride of conquest yielded to
a passionate burst of grief at the loss of his gallant soldiers.--Then
came the _voe victis_," continued Cranfield. "We do not like to dwell
on the wild and desperate wickedness which Badajoz witnessed on
becoming ours. By the by, just where we stand stood the gallows."

"The gallows!" Lady Mabel exclaimed, stepping back from the polluted
spot. "You could not hang the French. Did you hang the Spaniards who
had fired on you."

"No; but Lord Wellington was compelled to hang some of his own heroes
for making too free with what was theirs by right of conquest."

The young surgeon, who had been listening to Cranfield, now thought it
time to lay some of his coloring on this picture of the siege,
storming and sack of this unhappy city. He told some curious and
thrilling incidents, but his profession getting the mastery of him, he
soon got to the hospital, and, amidst ghastly wounds, horrid
disfigurations, and dismembered limbs, began to bandage, slash, and
saw, until Lady Mabel sickened at the tale. "Pray stop there; you make
me shudder at your hospital scenes, which, in their endless variety of
suffering are too like the Popish pictures of souls in Purgatory. I
prefer going to dine at the posada, to stopping here to sup full of
horrors."

They now returned to the posada and had their S