Salamanca 1812- Wellington’s Year of Victories

by Peter Edwards

  The enemy’s skirmishers and ours now set to work, yet we did not wait for their indecisive long shots; but advancing still rapidly and steadily, our right soon came into contact with their left, which had opened a very heavy and destructive fire upon us, and which would have lasted long enough had the brigade been halted to return it, but it was instantly charged and overthrown. It was now evidence to us all that Sir Edward Pakenham knew how to handle Picton’s division.

  The French colonel who shot Major Murphy as he rode up the slope in front of his Colours, was thought by Murphy’s two subalterns, carrying those Colours, that they themselves were the colonel’s target. Lieutenant Thomas Moriaty, with the Regimental Colour, remarked ‘That fellow is aiming at me!’ ‘I hope so,’ said his fellow, Lieutenant John D’Arcy, under the King’s Colour, ‘for I thought he had me covered!’ And as Major Murphy slumped in his saddle, another ball took off D’Arcy’s epaulette and cut the Colour pole in two.

  Just shy of the summit, but before the cheer and charge, the leading ranks opened to allow riflemen from the 5th/60th, whose job was now done, to filter back. They came in with a special urgency on the right, crying ‘Dere Deivel, French horse coming!’ The 45th promptly made a flank with the Grenadier and Nos 1 and 2 Companies – a tricky drill in the circumstances – as squadrons of Curto’s chasseurs thundered round the slopes from the east. Not being in square the 45th, and the 1st/5th in second line behind them, and who had not even a timely warning to wheel back the end of their line, were both badly mauled. Private William Brown, 45th:

  As our brigade was marching up to attack a strongly posted column of infantry, a furious charge was made by a body of cavalry upon our Regiment, and, not having time to form square, we suffered severely. Several times the enemy rode through us, cutting down with their sabres all that opposed them. Our ranks were broken and thrown into the utmost confusion. Repeatedly our men attempted to reform, but all in vain – they were as often cut down and trampled upon by their antagonists . . . Numerous and severe were the wounds received on this occasion. Several had their arms dashed from their shoulders, and I saw more than one with their heads completely cloven. Among the rest I received a wound, but comparatively slight, although well aimed. Coming in contact with one of the enemy he brandished his sword over me, and standing in his stirrup-irons, prepared to strike; but, pricking his horse with my bayonet, it reared and pranced, when the sword fell, the point striking my forehead. He was, however, immediately brought down, falling with a groan to rise no more.

  Oman cannot have read Brown’s account, saying only that the 45th were ‘Feebly attacked ... [and] beat off their assailants easily’. Not so, according to Brown. On the other hand, he has the chasseurs make better progress against the 5th, who are in effect routed, and quotes Sergeant Morley, 1st/5th:

  There was a pause – a hesitation. Here I blush – but I should blush more if I were guilty of a falsehood. We retired – slowly, in good order, not far, not 100 paces. General Pakenham approached, and very good-naturedly said ‘reform,’ and after a moment ‘advance — there they are, my lads – let them feel the temper of your bayonets.’ We advanced – rather slowly at first, a regiment of dragoons which had retired with us again accompanying . . . and took our retribution for our repulse.

  Of course, Morley makes no actual mention of French cavalry. But the 5th, in second line, could not possibly have retired that 100 paces because of an advance by French infantry – through the 45th? The casualty figures perhaps help a little. The 45th’s losses during the entire battle (fifty-five men or twelve per cent) were nearly identical to the 74th’s on the other flank (forty-nine men or eleven per cent). In the middle not surprisingly the 88th lost 135 men or twenty per cent. The 1st/5th, however, lost 126 men or fourteen per cent, whereas the other three battalions in Campbell’s Brigade averaged nine per cent. So maybe a fair conclusion is firstly, that part of the 5th did run; and secondly, that Brown’s account could be a little exaggerated. After all, the 45th’s Regimental History claims Pakenham called out ‘Well done, 45th’, presumably, en route to steady the 5th.

  The chasseurs were driven off by D’Urban’s dragoons. It is thought Curto had forward only one of his brigades at this stage, of eight or nine squadrons, and that two or three of these had tried their luck against the 45th and the 5th, the rest clashing on the southern flank with Arentschildt’s five squadrons of the 1st Hussars KGL and the 14th Light dragoons. The former under Major Gruben charged and broke the front French squadrons, but were then held until the 14th came up to add their weight.

  At this point, as Pakenham led his men forward on to the Monte de Azan, driving the pitiful remnants of the 101st and 62nd pell mell backwards, General Thomières was killed. The French outran the British. ‘The enemy’s infantry was quickly pursued, chiefly by Colonel Wallace at the head of the 88th, whose impetuosity was found most difficult to restrain . . . another charge was intended; the French would not stand however, and retired in tolerable order,’ said Wallace’s Brigade Major. The death of Thomières had come most untimely for his one remaining colonel, utterly involved in trying to form a line, then failing that, getting the men back in one piece to shelter behind the 1st Ligne.

  French casualty figures cover the whole day, and clearly many listed for the 101st and 62nd were not caused by Pakenham’s 3rd Division, but subsequently by Le Marchant’s dragoons. We cannot say what was caused by sabre, what by firelock. By the end of the day the 101st Ligne had 263 fit for duty out of 1,449 i.e. losses of 1,186 or a wipe-out, eighty-two per cent; the 62nd Ligne had just 255 men fit out of 1,123 i.e. losses of 868 or an equally staggering seventy-seven per cent; and the 1st Ligne 1,533 fit out of 1,743 i.e. losses of just 230 men or thirteen per cent. The 62nd and 101st effectively ceased to exist this day. Their General was dead, their divisional battery of six guns was captured, the 101st’s Colonel and their Eagle (possibly – or the 62nd’s) were taken, and the Division had lost half its strength. Having inflicted 2,284 casualties, for its own losses of 560, the 3rd Division had triumphed. Yet they were now nudging into a further mass of blue coats, with cavalry milling around to their right. Grattan caught the mood:

  We found ourselves in an open plain, intersected with cork trees, opposed by a multitude who, reinforced, again rallied and turned upon us with fury . . . the attitude of the French cavalry in our front and upon our right flank caused some uneasiness . . . the peels of musketry along the centre still continued without intermission; the smoke was so thick that nothing to our left was distinguishable.

  Wallace was coming up against the 1st Ligne, formed in good order across the Monte, and behind which the remnants of the 62nd and the 101st were trying to regroup. Down the slopes to their left, although Pakenham’s men could not see through the smoke, Cotton’s cavalry were approaching and, beyond them, Leith’s 5th Division, to whose Colours we will now hurry, at about a quarter to 5pm.

  CHAPTER 10

  Salamanca The 5th Division’s Attack

  Sometime before 5pm, with the French command increasingly in chaos, Marmont struck down, Bonnet and Clausel attempting control whilst wounded by turn in leg and heel, all British eyes were divided between the progress far right of Pakenham, and near right of Bradford’s Portuguese. Leith needed the latter on his flank, unless the former engaged Thomières first, when the Portuguese would have to go hang. Whilst waiting, Leith kept busy by setting the calm example under shellfire expected of him, riding his line and talking to his recumbent regiments. Two of his eight British battalions were new – the 2nd/4th (King’s Own) had been out only eight weeks, the large (800 strong) 1st/38th (Staffords) only one day; the former had experienced the fetid airs of Walcheren but little else of relevance, the latter survived the Corunna march three and a half years earlier. Leith’s other six had all climbed the San Vincente walls at Badajoz, the three of Walker’s Brigade suffering substantially (1st/4th, 2nd/30th Cambridgeshire and 2nd/44th Essex, the other three very lightly (3rd/1st Royal Scots, 2nd/38
th and 1st/9th Norfolks). In addition, six of the battalions had been at Fuentes, three at Busaco and four at Corunna, so there was fair Peninsular experience, except for the 2nd/4th who had none. Spry’s Portuguese (3rd and 5th Line, 8th Caçadores) had all been present at Badajoz, Fuentes and Busaco, but with little fighting.

  John Douglas, 3rd/1st, recalls Leith turning in the saddle and saying:

  ‘Royals,’ on which we all sprang up. ‘Lie down men,’ said he, though he sat on horseback, exposed to the fire as calm as possible. ‘This shall be a glorious day for Old England, if these bragadocian rascals dare but stand their ground, we will display the point of the British bayonet, and where it is properly displayed no power is able to withstand it. All I request of you is to be steady and obey your officers.’

  And then, passing to the 38th next in line ‘As for you, 38th, I have only to say, behave as you have always done.’

  At the end of a very long and tiresome hour under fire, he got his Division on their feet, perhaps hearing Pakenham’s battle commence and seeing a staff officer approach at the gallop. Captain Philip Bainbrigge, DAQMG, had been sent by Lord Wellington to move the 5th Division forward at last, even though Bradford was still not up with them.

  I galloped up to General Sir James Leith, who was riding backwards and forwards along the front of his men, with two or three staff officers; the round shot were ricocheting into and over his line, and as I was about to deliver the order, a shot knocked up the earth close to his horse’s nose. He took off his hat to it, and said, ‘I will allow you to pass, Sir!’ The men heard him, and said, ‘Hurra for the General.’ They were at ordered arms, standing at ease. I delivered my order, and the General replied, ‘Thank you, Sir! That is the best news I have heard today,’ and turning to his men he said, taking off his hat and waving it in the air in a theatrical manner, and in a tone of voice which was grand in the extreme, said, ‘Now boys! We’ll at them.’

  An anonymous soldier of the 1st/38th wrote ‘General Leith came up, waving his hat and shouting “Now my lads, this is the day for England. They would play at long ball with us from morning til night, but we will soon give them something else.”’ Douglas says that when Leith reached the Royal Scots he heard him say ‘Stand up men! Then taking off his cocked hat and winding it around his head he gives the words “March!”’ And very welcome that word was, to get the blood moving – and also for the light troops, who all this time had been out front. Leith had Major Alured Faunce, 1st/4th, in command of the light companies from his British battalions, two companies of the Brunswickers, and all of the 8th Caçadores — a covering party of possibly 1,000 men. They had not been actively skirmishing, since no forward movement had yet been required; their job was to keep their opposite numbers from harassing the Division at close range. Now they could move up the slope, and readily did so. Behind them the 9th (Norfolks) and probably the left wing of the 2nd/38th (Staffords) necessarily broke their line while filing through the western end of the Arapiles village. Once in the clear, their neat dressing ‘as if it had been a common field day’ impressed John Douglas’s Company commander Captain Stewart. ‘(He) Stepping out of the ranks to the front, lays hold of Captain Glover and cries, “Glover, did you ever see such a line?” Douglas avers “That in the regiments which composed our lines there was not a man six inches out of his place.” ’

  And what a sight it must have been. Five battalions all in red, from right to left the 1st/4th, 3rd/1st, 1st/38th, 2nd/38th and the 1st/9th, two ranks each 1,300 men long or say 1,000 yards, well over half a mile of red, five sets of Colours and in front of those belonging to the 1st/38th (the new boys), in the middle rode General Leith and his gilded staff. A hundred yards in rear came the Division’s second line of Pringle’s and Spry’s five battalions, half red, half in brown, and ahead of the 2nd/44th (Essex) Colour party, or thereabouts, rode his Lordship and staff, for a brief spell.

  One of Leith’s ADCs was his nephew Lieutenant Andrew Leith Hay, 29th. In his Narrative he makes no mention of the arrival of Captain Bainbrigge with Wellington’s order to move out, but predicates that act on the arrival of Bradford’s Portuguese: ‘The moment he (Bradford) was in line, General Leith gave the signal’.

  Previously to this movement, Leith had despatched his other aides-de-camp, Captains Belshes and Dowson, to different parts of the line ‘to help restrain over-keenness.’ For the business of advancing a long thin line over a mile of broken ground is quite fraught, yet quite essential to the delivery at the end of it, of either a disciplined volley or a meaningful cheer to precede the charge. Anyone whose battalion has sweated in the arcane parade ground drill known as the ‘Advance in Review Order’, or tried to present his company with a straight front while marching past some visiting Royal, eyes right, sword just so, will know the practicalities. On rough ground, there is a human but infuriating guarantee of over-compensation: any section of the line lagging because of obstacles, however minor, would not immediately be followed on the flanks by a reduction in speed, only after a little time has passed and the need becomes obvious. By then the lagging section has speeded up, to catch up. Thus flows a line with alternate bulges, with all the sergeants in rear screaming ‘Get up, Get up on the right!’ or ‘Steady on the left, Steady!’ or ‘Hold back in the Centre’.

  Neither a level line nor calm lungs – essential to all volleys and cheers – can result from too fast or too harassed a march. It was upwards of a mile to the crest behind which Maucune’s Division, out of sight, lay in wait. Many soldiers, and all Frenchmen, would have made this approach in column, like Cole’s 4th Division at Albuera. ‘March in column, fight in line’, however, is all very well as a dictum – fastest, most accurate approach, total control etc. – but it is also horribly vulnerable to artillery, and demands a nicety of timing not to leave it too late (as the French always found) to change into line. So Leith Hay’s reference to ‘That beautiful line ... admirable dressing . . . orderly steadiness’ in the following account indicates his uncle’s troops were indeed highly disciplined. In particular, since the 1st/38th comprised nearly a third of his front, his new boys were making an impressive start.

  Leith needed to clear the front of Maucune’s skirmish line. His nephew was given the job:

  In ascending the height on which the French army was placed, the division continued to be annoyed by the artillery fire from its summit; the ground between the advancing force and that to be assailed was also crowded with light troops in extended order, carrying on a very incessant tiraillade. The general desired me to ride forward, making the light infantry press up the heights to clear his line of march, and if practicable make a rush at the enemy’s cannon. In the execution of this service, I had to traverse the whole extent of surface directly in front of the 5th division: the light troops soon drove back those opposed; the cannon were removed to the rear; every obstruction to the regular advance of the line had vanished. In front of the centre of that beautiful line rode General Leith, directing its movements, and regulating its advance. Occasionally every soldier was visible, the sun shining bright upon their arms, while at intervals all were enveloped in a dense cloud of dust, from whence, at times, issued the animating cheer of British infantry.

  It took twenty minutes to close on the French, under a galling fire from Maucune’s and Bonnet’s batteries. The 4th Division on Leith’s left were a little delayed – as was Bradford’s Portuguese on the right – but Leith had the comfort of knowing his flanks were secure, or would be very soon, with the addition of the whole of Hope’s 7th Division in rear. He could see the smoke of Edward Pakenham’s men working in from the near horizon on the right, and behind his right shoulder he could see the Heavy Brigade of the 3rd and 4th Dragoons, and the 5th Dragoon Guards, and Anson’s three regiments of Light dragoons – some 1,500 horsemen. The same sight had been not quite so enjoyed by Maucune a little earlier from his elevated position, and caused him – or some of his colonels – to make the fatal error of attempting to form square from th
eir battalion columns. Though why, under the imminent threat of the British line coming over the convex crest, they were still in column, is beyond understanding. They were only a fair musket shot back. Leith Hay:

  His columns, retired from the crest of the height, were formed in squares, about fifty yards removed from the ground, on which, when arrived, the British regiments would become visible. The French artillery, although placed more to the rear, still poured its fire on the advancing troops. In the act of urging forward the light infantry, a ball struck the horse I rode, and passing through his body, laid him dead on the spot. In this dilemma I waited until the line approached, and having dismounted an orderly dragoon, proceeded with the general, who continued in the same situation he had occupied when the division commenced its advance; namely, in front of the Colours of the 1st battalion of the 38th regiment. We were now near the summit of the ridge. The men marched with the same orderly steadiness as at first: no advance in line at a review was ever more correctly executed: the dressing was admirable, and spaces were no sooner formed by casualties then closed up with the most perfect regularity, and without the slightest deviation from the order of march.