Salamanca 1812- Wellington’s Year of Victories

by Peter Edwards

  But Kincaid got lost:

  We had some difficulty at first in finding the breach, as we had entered the ditch opposite to a ravelin, which we mistook for a bastion. I tried first one side of it and then the other, and seeing one corner of it a good deal battered, with a ladder placed against it, I concluded that it must be the breach and calling to the soldiers near me to follow, I mounted with the most ferocious intent, carrying a sword in one hand and a pistol in the other; but when I got up I found nobody to fight with except two of our own men, who were already laid dead across the top of the ladder. I saw in a moment that I had got into the wrong box and was about to descend again when I heard a shout from the opposite side that the breach was there; and, moving in that direction, I dropped myself from the ravelin and landed in the ditch opposite the foot of the breach, where I found the head of the storming party just beginning to fight their way into it.

  As we have seen, the Light Division was running late, and Captain James Fergusson, who was commanding the 100 volunteers from the 43rd, heard the engineer officer (the stand-in Elliot) call out, ‘You are wrong, this is the way to the breach.’

  Lieutenant Cooke, 43rd: ‘Although the enemy were firing rapidly from the top of the wall, the troops on first descending to the bottom of the ditch, were still in total darkness.’

  Captain Fergusson, 43rd:

  Immediately calling the men to come on, we ascended the breach in the Fausse Braie and soon reached the breach in the body of the place without the use of ladders. We remained for a few moments on the breach, until we had collected about twenty or thirty officers and men.

  Then, as more men arrived, as Captain John Dobbs of the 52nd said, they and the 43rd went up the breach ‘In sections of threes, side by side,’ that is, six men broad.

  Over on the much-wider main breach, the 3rd Division’s regiments – such a mixture of the 5th, 45th, 77th, 88th and 94th – were fighting as much for space to climb the shifting footholds as much as getting at the French, for as the 77th officer wrote, ‘The ascent ... consisting as it did of a nearly-perpendicular mass of loose rubble, in which it was extremely difficult to obtain a footing.’

  He described what happened when their front

  Reached the top of the rampart as one man ... Two guns pointed downwards from the flanks, and had time to fire several rounds of grape, working fearful destruction particularly on the 94th ... A strong train of gunpowder was fired from the enemy’s left which, passing across the breach, kindled and exploded a great number of shells, by which many were killed and wounded, and all who had gained the top were thrown down and stunned.

  And if that were not warm enough for an opening welcome, ‘On the margin of the breach were ranged a quantity of shells, which were lighted and rolled down amongst us,’ while for any who managed to show their face over the lip of the breach, ‘A brisk fire was opened from a breastwork a little distant from the rear of the breach ... the space between this breastwork and the interior scarp of the wall, which was entire and sixteen foot high, was filled with carriages of different kinds, chevaux-de-frise etc.’

  The 45th and 88th had joined this devilish cauldron, in time to be caught on the crest of the glacis and at the foot of the breach, by ‘A heavy fire from a distant flanking demi-bastion,’ which Sergeant Brazill of the 88th said was ‘On our left’. Then, as they faced the rubble slope, showered by grenades and grape, eyewitness accounts as to the sequence of events then becomes doubtful. We can but describe them: the subjugation of the French defence of the two transverse trenches on the attackers’ right; that of the trench on their left; the suppression of the musketry from the breastwork in rear of the breach and the explosion of a mine, which killed General McKinnon and many others. There is even doubt whether the explosion was a mine deliberately fired among the breach rubble or an ammunition reserve accidentally ignited on the rampart.

  We are fortunate to have detailed accounts of the fighting at the main breach. Both Sergeant John Jones of the 5th and the anonymous officer of the 94th wrote to the United Services Journal in 1843, claiming their Commanding Officers were first up the right-hand side and over the twin trenches; there is another account by Sergeant Brazill of the 88th dealing with the left side, and one by William Grattan.

  Here is the heroic single-combat crossing of the right hand trenches by Lieutenant Colonel James Campbell, leading the 94th:

  On this side the enemy had prepared a double retrenchment, consisting of two ditches (each ten feet deep, and the same in width) and two parapets formed across the rampart. It appeared that they had been communicating with the breach from this side at the moment we mounted, by means of two strong planks laid across the ditches on the inner edge of the rampart. In the confusion of the surprise, the plank traversing the ditch next to the breach was only drawn a little back, so that one end fell to the bottom of the ditch, while the other rested on the interior lip. In this position it furnished the assailants with the means of passing. This was eagerly seized, and, by mutual assistance, they rapidly cleared the first ditch. The plank laid over the second ditch having been left undisturbed, Colonel Campbell proceeded forthwith to take advantage of it. While he was on the plank, a French officer sprung forward, and, calling on his men to fire, made a lunge with his sword at the colonel; he parried the blow, and closed with the Frenchman, and both were instantaneously borne within the second retrenchment by the ardour of our men who were pressing on. At this instant, the 5th regiment reached and mounted the breach with a vehement cheer. This corresponding in the rear most opportunely with the exertions of those in front, startled and appalled the French soldiers at the critical moment at which, by supporting their brave officer, who was forced to yield his sword, they might have successfully defended their post. The advantage thus lost their assailants were too energetic to permit them, whatever efforts were made, ever to regain; but springing one after the other within the retrenchment, each, as he came up, threw himself on the enemy, of whom the foremost soon lay lifeless on the terre-plein, and the rest, who were beyond the immediate reach of the bayonet, turned and fled in panic, without a thought but to save themselves.

  Before we hear from another eyewitness, also part of this small group on the ramparts, we can usefully continue the 94th’s version: ‘Colonel Campbell stopped the pursuit at a place where a street coming from the centre of the town, nearly at right angles with the rampart, is terminated by the retaining wall, but ascends by a ramp on the left to the terre-plein.’ There Campbell sensibly decided he had gone far enough.

  Beyond this ramp, the houses encroach on the rampart, and narrow it at one point to a few paces, whence it slopes gently down as far as the Agueda gate. A post was thus formed, which those who had reached it could have defended against any number of the enemy, had they recovered themselves.

  At this point the 94th’s eyewitness was just congratulating Campbell on his success:

  When the tread of a considerable body of the enemy descending the street gave warning of their approach. A sufficient number of our men having been posted to close the rampart where it was narrowest, the rest were moved down the ramp to receive the enemy on the bayonet, as they should turn at the foot of the street. They came down at a steady step until within twenty or thirty paces of us, but then, hearing a call given to those who were on their way from the breach to move on, they all at once halted, seemed to listen for a moment and then, throwing down their arms, fled with precipitation.

  Our party was now joined successively by Captain C. Campbell, of the 94th, (brother of the Colonel); Captain Laing, 94th, wounded through the wrist; Major Ridge of the 5th, limping, having sprained his ankle; the Sergeant Major of this last regiment and several men. Still in all it did not number above forty. Patrols were sent out, who went to the old Moorish Castle, to the Agueda gate, which was strongly barricaded with stones, to remove which would have required the labour of many hours, and to the different streets and lanes which touched the ramparts in this direction, and which
were found deserted and strewn with arms.

  With so few men Campbell would not be keen to venture into the streets, away from his blocking position on or above the ramp. Indeed, he sent officers back to the breach, to bring more men across the trenches:

  But they were unable to gain their attention, which was entirely occupied by the fire kept up on them from the retrenchment on that [left] flank, and from the breast work raised in rear of the rampart. This fire had brightened up, and become very close, it having evidently been reinforced at the same instant that the parties approaching us had given way, and our troops were dropping fast, and had opened their fire in return. As the dazzling light in front, and the smoke which hung over the breach, through the ditch and flank by which we had crossed into complete obscurity, no persuasion could prevail on them to follow in that direction. The storming party, and the other brigade of the 3rd Division, on arriving afterwards, were in like manner attracted by the fire of the enemy, and without searching for entrance but where that fire appeared, eagerly strove to bring their own to bear on it.

  A different version of the passage of the two trenches on the right of the breach was given by ex-Sergeant John Jones of the 5th, writing thirty years after the event but in direct response to the above account of the 94th’s part, which had been published in a letter to the United Services Journal of 1843. Jones says:

  I was Orderly Sergeant to Major Ridge ... [with him] I was now moving from the breach to the right on the ramparts when by the light of the guns and musketry, I saw a plank laid across a trench cut in the ramparts and which the enemy had neglected to withdraw. This I pointed out to the Major and assisted him over it; and I verily believe we were the first of our army that gained the ramparts ... We then pushed on the ramparts with more of our men who joined us, to the distance I suppose of fifty yards. There appeared but few of the enemy here, and they retreated before us; but an incessant and destructive fire was still kept up from behind an entrenchment opposite the breach. At the place about fifty yards to the right of the breach, a wall or gable end of a house joined the ramparts. Here we made a halt, with our backs to the said wall. A few more men now joined us from the breach, and Colonel Campbell of the 94th amongst them. We were now about thirty men, the Colonel and Major Ridge being the only officers.

  We now heard the awful explosion of the mine beneath the breach, by which General MacKinnon and a great number of men were killed. The firing at this point almost ceased for a moment or two, and Colonel Campbell said to Major Ridge ‘I fear all is lost, and we are prisoners.’ A minute afterwards we heard the attack commence at the lesser breach and the cheers of the Light Division. Colonel Campbell then proposed to Major Ridge that we should move on around the ramparts. To this the Major replied ‘We had better keep our position, for if we move, we may fall on Colonel O’Toole’s men – they were ordered to escalade about this part.’ Our little party of the 5th, and about half a dozen of the 94th mixed, were placed two deep with our backs to the wall, and looking over the ramparts. By order of Major Ridge I told them off into two sub-divisions, with instructions to be ready to wheel up to the right or left, to fire a volley if directed, and wheel back again and reload, while the second sub-division should replace them. Shortly after this we heard footsteps advancing; Colonel Campbell challenged and no answering being received, the men were wheeled up, fired and fell back again to their places. The fire was not returned.

  Now, whether Campbell or Ridge were the first over the planks, (and we can even add a third claim: the 45th’s History is adamant that it was ‘the 45th, followed by their supporting regiments, (which) rapidly swarmed [over the planks]’) there is agreement that their small joint party halted some way down the walk-way, and formed a static post; and that some time now passed, when neither the post was reinforced, nor the left trench of the breach was forced, because of what Jones called ‘The incessant and destructive fire kept up from behind the entrenchment opposite the breach.’ With this lull at the main breach, therefore, we can turn to examine events at the Lesser.

  There, we left the Light Division, somewhat late, mounting it with the 43rd and 52nd side by side, joined by some of the 3rd/95th (who were meant to be providing fire support from the glacis). John Cooke of the 43rd:

  The French swore they should not enter, and fought most desperately on the crest of the breach, throwing down large stones and missiles, and keeping up a most deadly fire. Here many brave officers and soldiers fell. On the glacis, while cheering on the main body of the Division, General Craufurd received a mortal wound and Major General Vandeleur and Colonel Colborne were also wounded. How the troops contrived to force the breach I know not, but it was well done. It was exceedingly steep, being about five yards wide at the top, with a cannon of heavy calibre placed sideways to block up the passage. However, there was a clear yard from the muzzle of the gun to the wall, sufficient space for one or two soldiers to enter at a time, besides those who would pass underneath the muzzle or over the wheels of the carriage.

  James Fergusson also mentions the cannon:

  A gun was stretched across the entrance, near which some of the enemy were bayoneted, and among the number some deserters from the Light Division, in arms defending it against their countrymen. A soldier of the name of Jonathon Wilde, 43rd, was the first man that mounted the breach in the faux brais, but no individual could claim being the first that entered the breach; it was a simultaneous rush of about twenty or thirty. The forlorn hope was thrown in some degree behind, being engaged in fixing ladders against the face of the work, which they mistook for the point of attack. Major Napier was wounded at the moment when the men were checked by the heavy fire and determined resistance of the enemy, about two thirds up to the ascent. It was then that the soldiers, forgetting they were not loaded, as the Major had not permitted them, snapped all their firelocks.

  Lieutenant John Cooke, thought to be in Captain John Duffy’s 9th Company, 43rd, the leading company in the Light Division, following the storming parties says:

  On ascending the small breach directly after it was carried, I found myself with the crowd. Lieutenant Colonel McLeod, with the assistance of some other officers, managed to collect on the rampart about two hundred soldiers of our regiment, and was exalting them to keep together. At this time, with the exception of a few stray shots from the opposite buildings, there was no firing on us, but their sharp musketry still at the great breach.

  And the commander of the 43rd’s storming party, James Fergusson, says:

  Upon carrying the breach, the parties moved as before directed by Major Napier; that is 52nd to the left, 43rd to the right. At this time the great breach had not been carried, and was powerfully defended by the enemy. The houses being on it were loop-holed and a deep trench lined with musketry bearing directly upon it; the flanks of the breach were cut off, and the descent into the town from the ramparts at the top of it appeared considerable.

  Around this time, Fergusson was wounded in the body and was ‘Carried back by one of the men a little way on the rampart, when an explosion took place.’ Lieutenant Harry Smith, 95th, was also moving to clear the ramparts ‘When the horrid explosion took place which killed General MacKinnon of the 3rd Division on the spot, and many soldiers, awfully scorching others ... I shall never forget the concussion when it struck me, throwing me back many feet.’

  Now the explosion which killed MacKinnon was one of three or four observed by General Harvey, watching the assault from the Tesons:

  I stood on rising ground and watched the progress of the attack. The great breach was attacked first. At the top of it the 3rd Division opened their fire heavily, and it was returned heavily, but there was a distressing pause. The small breach was carried first, and there was one considerable explosion and two or three smaller ones on the ramparts.

  William Grattan of the 88th was present on the main breach when the explosion occurred: ‘A frightful explosion near the gun to the left of the breach, which shook the bastion to its foundatio
n and completed the disorder.’ He goes on to say how that gun was dealt with:

  There was at this time but one officer alive upon the breach (Major Thomson, of the 74th, acting engineer): he called out to those next to him to seize the gun to the left, which had been so fatal to his companions – but this was a desperate service. The gun was completely cut off from the breach by a deep trench, and soldiers, encumbered with their firelocks, could not pass it in sufficient time to anticipate the next discharge – yet to deliberate was certain death. The French cannoniers, five in number, stood to, and served their gun with as much sang froid as if on a parade, and the light which their torches threw forth showed to our men the peril they would have to encounter if they dared to attack a gun so defended; but this was of no avail. Men going to storm a breach generally make up their minds that there is no great probability of their ever returning from it to tell their adventures to their friends; and whether they die at the bottom or top of it, or at the muzzle, or upon the breach of a cannon, is to them pretty nearly the same!

  The first who reached the top, after the last discharge, were three of the 88th. Sergeant Pat Brazill – the brave Brazill of the Grenadier Company, who saved his captain’s life at Busaco – called out to his two companions, Swan and Kelly, to unscrew their bayonets and follow him; the three men passed the trench in a moment, and engaged the French cannoniers hand to hand; a terrific but short combat was the consequence. Swan was the first, and was met by the two gunners on the right of the gun, but, no way daunted, he engaged them, and plunged his bayonet into the breast of one; he was about to repeat the blow upon the other, but before he could disentangle the weapon from his bleeding adversary, the second Frenchman closed upon him, and by a coup de sabre severed his left arm from his body a little above the elbow; he fell from the shock, and was on the eve of being massacred, when Kelly, after having scrambled under the gun, rushed onward to succour his comrade. He bayoneted two Frenchmen on the spot, and at this instant Brazill came up; three of the five gunners lay lifeless, while Swan, resting against an ammunition chest, was bleeding to death. It was now equal numbers, two against two, but Brazill in his over-anxiety to engage was near losing his life at the onset; in making a lunge at the man next to him, his foot slipped upon the bloody platform, and he fell forward against his antagonist, but as both rolled under the gun, Brazill felt the socket of his bayonet strike hard against the buttons of the Frenchman’s coat. The remaining gunner, in attempting to escape under the carriage from Kelly, was killed by some soldiers of the 5th, who just now reached the top of the breach, and seeing the serious dispute at the gun, pressed forward to the assistance of the three men of the Connaught Rangers.