Sullivan was called at the appointed time, got up, and stretched himself,
grumbling:
"I don't believe that I have been asleep ten minutes."
On going out into the passage, however, where a light was burning, his
watch told him that it was indeed time to be moving. He woke the others,
and with the men went down to the cellars. Here the scene of confusion was
great; drunken men lay thickly about the floor, others sat, cup in hand,
talking, or singing snatches of song, Spanish or English. Hastily picking
out enough unbroken casks for the purpose, he set the men to carry them up
to the street, and they were then rolled along to the factory. Just as
they reached the door the bugle-call sounded; the men were soon on their
feet, refreshed by a good night's sleep. The casks were broached, and the
wine served out.
"It is awful, Colonel," Sullivan said. "There will be hundreds of men left
behind. There must have been over that number in the cellar I went into,
and there are a dozen others in the town. I never saw such a disgusting
scene."
Scarcely had they finished when the assemble sounded, and the regiment at
once fell-in outside the factory, every man with knapsack and haversack
bulging out with tobacco. They then joined the rest of the troops in the
main street. General Moore had made a vain attempt to rouse the besotted
men.
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