We drove them quite close to Llerena, and Cookson, of Captain Cocks’ troop, was killed in the town. To check us, the enemy fired (from the ground they held with 10,000 infantry close to the left of Llerena) a few cannon shots over our heads, not daring to hit us, being so intermixed with their own people. The Heavies [cavalry] supported us, and, on the cannon opening, we were ordered to withdraw on Villa Garcia.
So Cotton turned back with his prisoners (no fewer than four officers and 132 troopers) and the five-mile return hack would pass over the French dead and wounded, strewn where they lay. The total British loss was put variously at between fifty-one and fifty-eight all ranks, of whom the great majority (forty to forty-five) were dragoon guards. It is hard therefore not to suppose their cumbersome swords proved less handy in defence than the light dragoons’ curved sabres, and which did such work: ‘The prisoners are dreadfully cut, and some will not recover,’ wrote Tomkinson. The French casualty figures were ‘more than 100’ according to Captain Thomas Fenton, 4th Dragoons, which with prisoners made an overall loss to Drouet D’Erlon of well over 200, four times the British loss. A more jaundiced view was that of William Bragge, 3rd Dragoons:
The Big Wigs choose to consider this Affair a great Feather in Sir Stapleton’s Cap but when the superiority in Numbers and Horses is so much in our Favour together with the Ground, we ought not to think much in taking 4 officers, 140 Men and 114 of the worst Horses you ever beheld. The Loss of the 5th Dragoon Guards was 12 killed, 2 missing, 1 Officer and 35 Men wounded, and 24 Horses missing. It is worthy of remark that scarcely one Frenchman died of his wounds, although dreadfully chopped, whereas 12 English Dragoons were killed on the Spot and others dangerously wounded by thrusts. If our men had used their Swords so, three Times the number of French would have been killed.
There is one curiosity in the story. Some held that Cotton and Le Marchant, at that halfway ditch, meant to go no farther, doubtless recalling Campo Major and the Peer’s subsequent strictures: it would be most unlikely that alarm bells did not ring. One clue is the exchange between Tomkinson and Le Marchant, when the latter turned to order the recall. Tomkinson was urging his men on whereas Le Marchant said ‘“Halt and form your men”. I said “The enemy are in greater confusion.” “You must halt.” “Must I call out ‘Halt’”? I asked. Seeing the General hesitate (he would not give the order), I called to the men to come on, and we drove the enemy a mile, in the greatest confusion into Llerena.’
Now, it is to be wondered at, that the major general allowed the captain so flagrantly to disobey, unless he felt in his heart the latter was justified: for there was no sign of any French reserve.
Another clue is to recall that Colonel Ponsonby, commanding the three light dragoon regiments, had three years before (at Talavera with the 23rd Light Dragoons) experienced the disorder a ditch can create in formed ranks. That memory, too, would have rung bells and caused hesitation. So, too, – a third clue – the memory in the head of Lieutenant Colonel John Elley, Le Marchant’s guide for the 5th’s approach march: like Ponsonby he had been with the 23rd at Talavera. Indeed, as their guide that day, he it was who, out front, had jumped that ditch first, reining in and turning unsuccessfully to hold back the squadrons behind.
So several of the leading British officers probably hesitated at that halfway gulley, held back by past ghosts.
Overall, we should not view this very pleasing action at Villagarcia as a work of military genius, the whole trap meticulously planned, executed with perfect timing etc. ‘To march divided, to fight together’ is a military dictum rarely achieved – most especially in darkness – without a huge slice of luck. Here were four considerable but detached groups of British horse: Charles Cocks’ two squadrons of the 12th and 14th out on the plain; Ponsonby arriving from behind with the other four squadrons; Cotton arriving separately with the 16th and Le Marchant clambering furiously up onto the ridge, his brigade trailing way behind. There is no suggestion of course that Cocks was sent forward deliberately under-strength, to entice the French dragoons into an ambush ready laid: he was simply back-pedalling because he had gone too far, too soon. That he did so was correctly in pursuit of Cotton’s earlier encouragement to Ponsonby; so the former’s subsequent criticism of the latter was, therefore, most unfair. He would have done better to have reserved his ire for Slade, whose presence on the field would have seen a French casualty rate much higher than the twenty per cent we can vaguely calculate. Even more does that apply to Le Marchant’s two lagging regiments, and one can but suppose his final approach was necessarily in single file. Nose to tail, a regiment’s 400 horses would stretch back nearly a mile. Had Le Marchant had the time to assemble the 3rd and 4th Dragoons – half an hour more would nearly have done it – Lallemand surely would have been encircled and captured entire. Le Marchant’s plan was for the 3rd and 5th to be in the first line, and the 4th in the second as a reserve (he wrote to R. B. Long on 7 May), and ‘Lord Edward Somerset and Major Clowes were mortified at not being able to share in the action, but the impediments of ground rendered it quite impracticable’.
The odd thing is, on Le Marchant’s sketch accompanying his letter to Long, he marks four squadrons for each of his three regiments (should there not be three only?) climbing the defile, the 5th leading, the 3rd and 4th left and right behind – really quite closely behind. It is as if he then hurried the 5th forward, opening a gap. Or perhaps the sketch is merely as indicative as it is legible?!
Apart from the obvious mortification of the French, Le Marchant had through this affair ‘Of no great consequence, brought myself and my brigade acquainted on essential points, and I have reason to believe that we are mutually well pleased with each other.’ Salamanca was to show that to be correct.
It is said that, during their retreat, Lallemand took some small comfort from the sight of his superior Peyremmont, hatless and dusty, no longer quite so contemptuous of the British blockheads, ‘Soiled and disordered . . . Urging his steed along the slippery slopes of a hill which afforded but an insecure footing, some English Dragoons following at a distance, with a certainty of capturing him if the animal should fall . . . None stopped to help him.’
Their leader’s now deflated certainty stood token for the general effects of this British action at Villagarcia: the further proof that French cavalry were beatable, that British cavalry commanders could cobble together a halfway decent tactical manoeuvre, and that the strength of British right arms was more than adequate. Of Le Marchant’s brigade of heavy horse, which is to star at Salamanca, we shall note the presence there, on the left of the first line, of the 5th Dragoon Guards, who had charged at Villagarcia; and on their right we shall note the presence of the 4th Dragoons, who had charged so effectively eleven months earlier at Usagre. The destruction of eight French battalions at Salamanca, and the general devastation of their centre, may largely be predicted by these earlier endeavours by two such fine regiments – and of their brigade commander. For Le Marchant set about three regiments with one of his own, not really knowing if the Light Dragoons to his left would – could — turn and join in, a triumph then ensuing as they did so: as he put it in his letter to Long, it was his charge with the 5th that broke the enemy ‘And the Light Cavalry then joined in the pursuit’. And that pursuit, contrary to Wellington’s and Oman’s jaundiced expectations, was conducted without great loss of control – perhaps just a little, but nothing serious. It was indeed a neat enough day for British cavalry, and an embarrassment for the French.
CHAPTER 4
Hill’s Raid on the Almaraz Bridge 19 May 1812
A major consideration in Lord Wellington’s strategic thinking, in late 1811, part and parcel with plans to possess the twin fortress gateways to Spain, and the options of a left or right turn – Marmont or Soult – thereafter, was the broad and deep barrier to troop movement provided by the east-west run of the Tagus. While he now commanded the largest European troop numbers of his career and need not fear any one French army, Marmont an
d Soult together, with or without attachments from elsewhere, would give pause for thought. The Tagus barrier was not impervious. One of the joys of being in Badajoz again would be the change to British ownership of Soult’s pontoon train. Without the means, therefore, to construct either a bridge of boats or flying ferries, French troop movement and communication between their armies must be across the sole bridge in French hands, that at Almaraz, seventy miles south of Salamanca. Along the rest of the Tagus, from Toledo way over to the east, forty miles beneath Madrid, and west right to the Portuguese border near Alcantara – 170 miles or more? — the French could not cross. It is true there were bridges at both Talavera and Arzobispo but the approach roads were inadequate for the heavy wheeled vehicles and guns of a marching army. Thus the Almaraz bridge was of prime importance to whichever marshal his Lordship chose to attack, for without it succour could come only through a massive 400 mile detour into New Castille.
Wellington had warned his reliable deputy, the newly-promoted Lieutenant General Sir Rowland (‘Daddy’ or ‘Farmer’) Hill of a possible operation to destroy the Almaraz bridge as early as January, and confirmed this with prescience both on 24 and 30 April, a few days before a captured despatch from Marmont to Jourdan came to headquarters, explicitly confirming the bridge’s importance to Marmont, and with the pleasing information that Foy’s Division, of 5,000 men at Talavera, was the only force within two days’ march of Almaraz. A coup-de-main by Hill on the bridge and the defending forts was therefore very much on the cards, given due secrecy. Success would be a devastating blow to French movement.
The final decision to advance towards Salamanca and on Marmont, rather than a raid into Andalusia and on Soult, appears still not to have emerged a month after Badajoz. But continuing – and unresolved – problems with the mutinous Spanish garrison in Ciudad Rodrigo, so recently set a-trembling by Marmont’s raid, presented Wellington with a vulnerable flank, should he (Wellington) move south of the Tagus, since not only would the garrison in his rear prove unreliable if attacked but the repair work still continued to be neglected. Marmont had the larger effective force, and was more easily mobile compared to Soult’s, and Marmont himself had always shown a readiness to assist others, unlike Soult. Mobility, however, assumes provisions and Marmont had none – hence his present wide dispersion. Wellington, on the other hand, was well provided; the harvest north of the Tagus being later than in Andalucia, his northern enemy would therefore have a longer period of famine-induced immobility than his southern and thus be more vulnerable. He wrote on 13 May that ‘they cannot undertake any operation till the harvest shall be ripe,’ and the previous day (also to Liverpool) the deduction that ‘the eventual success of the campaign depends upon my being able to move forward into Spain before the harvest’. The spin of the coin was turning towards Marmont: drive back his Army of Portugal, and Soult too must retire or be in danger of isolation.
Still, while his Lordship pondered these options, the destruction of the Almaraz boat bridge would clearly support either endeavour. Hill was given the go-ahead on 7 May. He collected his force at Merida on the 12th, the three brigades of the 2nd Division comprising the 13th Light Dragoons, Major General Kenneth Howard’s 1 Brigade – 50th (West Kents), 71st (Glasgow Highlanders) and 92nd (Gordon Highlanders), plus a company of the 60th; Colonel Wilson’s 2 Brigade – 28th (Gloucestershire) and 34th (Cumberland) plus another 60th company; and Colonel Charles Ashworth’s Portuguese Brigade – 6th and 18th Line and 6th Caçadores. Engineers with explosives and a pontoon train, and two artillery companies, also joined, the latter commanded by Wellington’s trusted Alexander Dickson. Hill left 11,000 men under Sir William Erskine to continue the watch on Drouet D’Erlon, taking some 7,000 men on his raid.
The boat bridge at Almaraz lay a good hundred miles from Merida, where Hill crossed the Tagus on the newly-repaired bridge. Three forced marches saw the column reach Truxillo on 15 May, where all baggage was dropped, save one camp kettle mule per company (the men to carry three days’ bread, and bullocks for four days). The Almaraz road then crossed five tributaries running north-west to the Tagus, with mountain ranges between making the going strenuous; Jaraicejo was another twenty-mile march commenced at 2am taking the column discreetly to the foot of the Sierra de Miravete, just a night march short of the Pass of Miravete, itself within a four-mile striking distance of Almaraz. The Pass was well defended.
Hill’s initial plan, made without close reconnaissance, was to form three attack columns, approach by night march, and attack at dawn on the 17th. As can be seen from the map, the road snakes through the Pass 150 feet below Miravete Castle, which lay some 700 yards to the west, with two small forts and a fortified house linking the Castle to the road. The Castle complex contained 300 men of the 39th Ligne, and eight guns, and consisted of an old Moorish tower to which the French had added a wall and twelve-foot rampart.
The idea was for Colonel Wilson’s brigade and the 6th Caçadores, under Lieutenant General Tilson-Chowne (the Tilson who commanded a brigade on Talavera’s Medellin) to escalade the Castle after an encircling movement to the west, whilst Ashworth and the artillery under Major General Long made a false attack from the road; and Hill with Howard’s brigade would go for the boat bridge and its defending forts, via a bridle path through the mountains to the east.
The centre column of Portuguese and guns reached the pass beneath the Castle in good time before dawn; the left also reached the Castle from the west – or at least the 34th did. Ensign George Bell was their orderly officer this day and commanded the ladder parties:
We crawled up this steep ascent with great caution and silence; but just as we approached the tower, a solitary shot was fired at the foot of the hill [presumably a negligent discharge], and the next moment the Castle was in a blaze. Luckily for us it was not yet daylight, and that a cloud of mist hung over the Castle top. We could not be seen ... too late to surprise our friends . . . we retired a little way down . . . there we lay all day waiting for fresh orders.
John Jones confirms General Chowne’s column ‘advanced close to the Castle’ whereupon deciding – once he could see to judge – the nut was too hard to crack without siege cannon.
It was Howard’s column, with Hill, that could not reach its target by dawn, and which caused the cancellation of his plan – not, as Oman and Fortescue have it, that ‘by dawn neither (Chowne or Howard) had got anywhere near its destination’ (Oman) or that by ‘the coming of day all three columns were still far from their striking points’ (Fortescue).
Surprise was therefore lost, and doubtless a horseman was already away carrying the news to Almaraz and on to Foy at Talavera. Hill now wisely spent time with his telescope. As he said in his Despatch, once he had lost the element of surprise he must defer an attack ‘until we should be better acquainted with the nature and position of the works’. Better late than never! He rapidly saw that the Castle complex on its steep approaches, would not easily fall, while the road beneath it – the only approach to Almaraz that allowed wheeled access – was thereby blocked. Throughout 17 and 18 May strenuous efforts were made to find a way of getting guns forward to the Almaraz valley, but to no avail. A lesser man than Hill might now have abandoned the whole enterprise, especially since he had not yet even reconnoitred his target. Time, however, was on his side, and so too men, and he had ladders; and had not those elements twice proved successful at Badajoz? He also had local guides he trusted and, although the five-mile track beyond La Cueva via the hamlet of Romangorda was more suitable for goats, he resolved to press ahead.
His new plan was for Chowne to demonstrate noisily against the Castle at Miravete, with 2 Brigade under Wilson, whilst he led a strengthened 1 Brigade under Howard over the hills and down to the Tagus, to assault at dawn.
His target, the boat bridge, was anchored a mile downstream from the old broken stone bridge, with forts on the slopes above guarding each end. Fort Napoleon was 100 yards back from the river on the south side, connected to a stone t�
�te de pont at the near pontoons. The fort had a central tower, loop-holed and twenty-five-feet high, and approached across a drawbridge. The ditch was palisaded but the scarp was formed curiously in two parts, with a berm or semi-platform, nearly flat and in places two-feet wide, running round halfway up. Fort Napoleon was manned by two companies of the 6th Léger and a company of the 39th Ligne, plus nine guns and twenty-five gunners and sappers – some 325 all ranks under a Major Aubert; the tête de pont held 250 men from the 6th and also the 4th Étranger. Fort Ragusa on the north bank comprised a tower twenty-five-feet high with two rows of loop-holes, surrounded by a five-sided ditch, with a frontage of about fifty yards; an angled fleche on the riverbank served as a basic tête de pont, since Ragusa sat a good quarter mile from the river, on the hilltop, and the fleche filled the gap. The fleche held fifty men of the 6th Léger and the Fort some 230 men of the 4th Étranger, with twenty engineers. There were twelve guns. Be it noted (not that Hill would know) the 4th Étranger were mostly Prussian prisoner turncoats, and hence not utterly reliable.
So Hill’s main task was to overcome 300 bayonets inside Napoleon, followed by a similar number in the tête de pont – say a batalion’s worth of fire-power. He transferred the 6th Portuguese Line from Ashworth to Howard’s brigade, making him up to four battalions, and an extra company of riflemen from the 60th, and the twenty-strong gunner detachment from General Chowne’s, together with their lintstocks, spikes, prickers etc. and 1001bs of powder, in a good example of forward thinking. For if his own guns must stay behind, perhaps his gunners could find and use some French ones? Similarly practical was the decision to cut in half the thirty-two-feet-long scaling ladders, to make them more easily carried around the tight corners of the twisting path.
Salamanca 1812- Wellington’s Year of Victories Page 21
