"My poor wife had some reason to think that war and disease, between
them, had left very little of a husband to take under nursing when she
got him again. An attack of scurvy had filled my mouth with sores,
shaken every joint in my body and covered me all over with scars and
livid spots, so that I was unlovely to look upon. A smart knock on the
ankle joint from the splinter of a shell that burst in my face, in
itself a mere bagatelle of a wound, had been of necessity neglected
under the pressing and insistent calls upon me, and had grown worse
and worse until the whole foot below the ankle became a black mass and
seemed to threaten mortification. I insisted, however, on being
allowed to use it until the place was taken, mortification or no; and
though the pain was sometimes horrible I carried my point and kept up
to the last.

"On the day after the assault I had an unlucky fall on some bad
ground, and it was an open question for a day or two whether I hadn't
broken my arm at the elbow. Fortunately it turned out to be only a
severe sprain, but I am still conscious of the wrench it gave me. To
crown the whole pleasant catalogue, I was worn to a shadow by a
constant diarrhoea and consumed as much opium as would have done
credit to my father-in-law (Thomas De Quincey).

"However, thank God, I have a good share of Tapleyism in me and come
out strong under difficulties. I think I may confidently say that no
man ever saw me out of heart or ever heard a complaining word from me
even when our prospects were gloomiest. We were sadly crippled by
cholera, and it was almost appalling to me to find that out of
twenty-seven officers I could only muster fifteen for the operations
of the attack. However, it was done,--and after it was done came the
collapse.