All in Scarlet Uniform (Napoleonic War 4)

by Adrian Goldsworthy

  With Austria crushed, there was no prospect of Prussia or Russia risking another war with France, and every reason to believe that Napoleon would go to Spain and complete his victory there. His marriage alliance with Marie Louise of Austria – made possible by the divorce of Josephine – suggested that the French Emperor might well crown his dramatic rise with permanent success. Sir John Moore’s opinion that Portugal could not be defended was widely held, and there was talk of abandoning the country and sending the remaining British troops to Cadiz in the hope that this could become the base for an eventual reconquest of Spain. Letters and diaries of many of Wellington’s officers from late 1809 and 1810 confidently predicted the forced evacuation of the country. Similar views were expressed in Parliament, and this was a sensitive subject for a newly formed administration – the last having collapsed in the acrimony following the Walcheren fiasco.

  Wellington disagreed, and although he made preparations to evacuate the army if it proved necessary, he also began work on the now famous fortified Lines of Torres Vedras protecting the Lisbon peninsula. His strategy accepted that the French would occupy much of Portugal, but that they would be unable to force the lines as long as these were supported by his army. It also required immense sacrifice from the people of Portugal, who were ordered to leave their homes and take or destroy food and anything else likely to be useful to the invaders. The French were to be presented with a land stripped bare, and compulsion was employed to enforce the strict regulations. It is well known that Marshal Masséna and his officers were surprised to be confronted by the Lines of Torres Vedras, for none of their spies had told them of the fortifications. They were far more surprised – and usually impressed or outraged or both – at the ruthlessness of Wellington’s plan and the rigour with which he followed it.

  It took time and a huge amount of money to construct the lines, mount artillery in the forts and garrison them with militia, and also to stockpile the food, ammunition and other supplies needed to support them. It also took more time and money to prepare an army strong enough to back up the fortifications. Roughly half of this force was Portuguese. Marshal Beresford presided over the reform of a Portuguese army so badly disrupted by the French invasion in 1807 that it was almost a question of starting from scratch. Better supplied, fed and equipped, the new regiments were trained in the British army’s drills and the officer corps supplemented by British volunteers. By the end of 1810 the Portuguese had begun to prove themselves very effective soldiers.

  Time was the key, as stressed by Murray and Baynes and others throughout the novel. Wellington believed that he could defend Lisbon, and that if the French failed to take the city they would ultimately be driven from Portugal itself, but he needed time to prepare. If Napoleon had returned to Spain himself – or even sent Masséna earlier and injected a greater sense of urgency into him – then it was perfectly possible that the British commander would have been denied the months he needed to prepare.

  It was fortunate that the French were so complacent. They faced many difficulties in conducting the war and these help to explain some of the delay. The rapid expansion of Napoleon’s empire placed its military and economic systems under great strain. Money was short, and without it, paying soldiers and buying equipment, transport and food for them was difficult. Masséna struggled to deal with these problems, and also with the divided command structure of the armies in Spain. When present, Napoleon was able to enforce his will on his subordinates. No one else ever managed to achieve this. In 1811 Masséna finally dismissed Ney from his command after many disputes.

  Ciudad Rodrigo and Almeida forced the French to spend a long time gathering a siege train and supplies for the campaign. Taking Ciudad Rodrigo cost them over a month more. The explosion of the magazine at Almeida cut short the defence of that fortress in the most dramatic way, but by that time the summer was well advanced and Wellington could feel confident that he was ready. He fought a defensive battle on the ridge at Busaco on 27th September, imposing another brief check on the French advance and improving the morale of his army. Several Portuguese regiments had the opportunity to face and defeat French attacks and the newly reformed army began to come of age.

  Masséna’s men pushed on as far as the Lines of Torres Vedras and then stopped and half starved through the coming months. There were no major actions and such stand-offs do not lend themselves readily to the writers of fiction, and Hanley, Williams, Pringle and the others will instead find more active employment elsewhere. (However, for those wanting a fictional treatment of these months, C. S. Forester’s marvellous novel Death to the French (1932) is both a good read and a vivid evocation of the problems the French faced.) Masséna surprised Wellington by how long he was able to keep his army so far inside Portugal, but the end result was never in doubt. The invasion failed and the French were never able to try again. Their losses were heavy, but in contrast Wellington’s casualties were low and his army grew more healthy as the months passed.

  This was not true of the Portuguese civilians who had fled to take shelter behind the lines. Food supplies proved inadequate for them and disease rapidly spread. Many thousands – perhaps tens of thousands – died during these months. When Baynes and Hanley speak of sacrifice at the end of the book they could scarcely have guessed how dreadful that sacrifice would be. The cost of not losing the war, and of having a base from which to begin the slow recovery, was very high, and the price paid by civilians is all too easily forgotten as it lacks the drama of battles and sieges. There was a measure of compulsion in this, just as there was a measure of compulsion in the eventual decision of the Regency Council in Lisbon to accept Wellington’s plan and implement it. They were desperate, and could have no hope of defending themselves against Napoleon without the British. The majority of politicians and people alike decided that it was better to resist, and at this heavy cost they were able to preserve the freedom and independence of their country. In the short term, that meant giving up some of that independence to maintain the alliance with Britain.

  The Light Division was formed in 1810 and by the end of the war had fought more actions with more success than any other formation in Wellington’s army. It also produced the highest proportion of men whose accounts were later published, and this publicity, combined with its genuine achievements, brought it immense fame. The 95th were especially productive of memoirs, diaries and collections of letters, so that its officers and men provided some of the most famous accounts of the war. They were still a new corps and a new concept at the time of this story, and I wanted to show something of their war without getting too caught up in that bigger tale.

  Both the British and French considered the Côa a victory. The latter surely had a better claim, for they had driven the Light Division from its position. Losses were disproportionately in favour of the French until their bold but unsuccessful attacks across the bridge. The numbers of infantry actually engaged were roughly equal, although the French did have a marked advantage in cavalry and made good use of this as far as the terrain allowed. However, the rest of Ney’s 6th Corps followed behind the leading division, and so if the British had lingered the odds would steadily have swung more and more in the favour of the French. Craufurd’s men were spread over too wide a frontage and lacked proper reserves, and the simple fact was that he had nothing to gain and much to lose by fighting there in the first place. Their success convinced Ney’s veterans and the wider army that they could attack and drive the British from any position, and this makes the costly charges over the bridge more reasonable. The British and Portuguese might have panicked and fled, but they did not, and probably the failure of the first assault ought to have shown this. The second attack was led by one of Ney’s ADCs, although not the fictional Dalmas. The lesson of these failed attacks was not learned, perhaps because of the ease of the earlier phase of the battle. At Busaco the French would assault a strong position and be punished – one of the attacks being routed by Craufurd and his men.

  Th
e Light Division saw the whole engagement differently. They had been attacked by a much stronger enemy in a relatively weak position and although they suffered losses the bulk of them retired in order to the western bank and then dismissively repulsed three enemy assaults. Most realised that they had had come close to disaster. O’Hare’s company was caught in the open by French hussars and fired at by their own side and lost three-quarters of its men. Part of the 43rd were trapped in a high-walled enclosure and escaped by breaking down the wall. Several companies of the 52nd were in danger of being cut off when the sandy hill overlooking the bridge was abandoned. Seeing the danger, three officers gathered whatever men they could and charged up to retake the hill. MacAndrews’ action is based on the real heroism of Major McLeod of the 43rd, and I hope one Scot will not begrudge the licence of giving another of his countrymen credit for his actions.

  MacAndrews’ training mission is an invention, but there was serious talk of retraining the Spanish army after the model of the Portuguese. Richard Wellesley proposed the idea during his time as government envoy to the Spanish, as did his successor and younger brother, Sir Henry Wellesley. It was never politically possible, and although there were a few units of Spanish soldiers formed under British control they were never more than a tiny minority.

  The story begins with a duel, and so perhaps I should not have left this until the end. Duelling was illegal, and specifically banned by the Army Act regulating the behaviour of officers and soldiers alike. In spite of this it continued, and most regiments would have frowned on an officer who rejected a challenge resulting from serious provocation. Many disputes were settled beforehand. Convention dictated that at least a day elapse between the challenge and the fight itself so this helped to reconcile arguments fuelled by alcohol. Fatalities were rare, wounds more common, but plenty of duels ended without injury to either party and it was considered bad form to appear too keen to hurt your opponent.

  On 21st September 1809 two former ministers fought a duel over an argument stemming from the ill-tempered break-up of the government. Lord Castlereagh and George Canning missed each other with their first shot. The former demanded a second opportunity and the seconds reluctantly agreed. This time he shot Canning in the thigh – ‘an inch to the right and it would have killed him’, according to his friend. Although it was a public scandal, no prosecution resulted. This was usually true of non-fatal encounters, and even some where death resulted. Witnesses might well choose to forget what they had seen even if things came to trial. Yet none of this was certain and there was a risk to all involved. In spite of this duelling continued, and Wellington found it necessary to ban officers from calling each other out when they were serving in his army.

  Napoleon probably could have won the Peninsular War in 1810. French mistakes and Allied resistance narrowly thwarted him and he was never again to get a better chance. The war in Spain and Portugal would continue, and in time would lead to other conflicts in wider Europe. There is still much for the 106th Foot to do.

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Names underlined are fictional characters.

  The 106th Regiment of Foot

  Captain Billy PRINGLE – Born into a family with a long tradition of service in the Royal Navy, Pringle’s short-sightedness and severe seasickness led his father to send him to Oxford with a view to him becoming a parson. Instead Pringle persuaded his parents to secure him a commission in the army. Plump, easy-going and overfond of both drink and women, Pringle has found active service easier to deal with than the quiet routine and temptations of garrison duty in Britain. Through the battles in Portugal, and the arduous campaign in Spain, Billy Pringle has won promotion and found himself easing into his role as a leader. Part of a detachment whose ship was driven back to Portugal after being evacuated from Corunna, Pringle served in the 3rd Battalion of Detachments at Talavera and was wounded in the last moments of the battle.

  Lieutenant William HANLEY – Illegitimate son of an actress and a banker, Hanley was raised by his grandmother and spent years in Madrid as an aspiring artist. His father’s death ended his allowance, and reluctantly Hanley took up a commission in the 106th purchased for him many years before. He served in Portugal in 1808, suffering a wound at Roliça. Since then his fluency in Spanish has led to periodic staff duties. Even so, he was with Pringle and the Grenadier Company throughout the retreat to Corunna. Captured by the French, he escaped and has found himself involved in intelligence work. He was wounded at Talavera.

  Lieutenant Hamish WILLIAMS – Williams joined the 106th as a Gentleman Volunteer, serving in the ranks and soon proving himself to be a natural soldier. He was commissioned as ensign following the Battle of Vimeiro. During the retreat to Corunna, he became cut off from the main army. Rallying a band of stragglers, he not only led them back to the main force, but thwarted a French column attempting to outflank the British army. He was praised by Sir John Moore for his actions, and was beside the general when the latter was mortally wounded at Corunna. In 1809 he was promoted to lieutenant and commanded a company in the 3rd Battalion of Detachments and fought with distinction at Talavera. Fervently in love with Jane MacAndrews, Williams’ cause seems to be continually thwarted by her unpredictability and his clumsiness.

  Captain TRUSCOTT – A close friend of Pringle, Hanley and Williams, the slightly stiff-mannered Truscott was wounded at Vimeiro and suffered the loss of his left arm. A slow recovery kept him from participating in the Corunna campaign. He served in the 3rd Battalion of Detachments and by the end of the Battle of Talavera was its commander.

  Major Alastair MACANDREWS – Well into his forties, MacAndrews first saw service as a young ensign in the American War of Independence. A gifted and experienced soldier, his lack of connections or wealth have hindered his career. Raised to major after decades spent as a captain, he took charge of the 106th at Roliça, and led the battalion throughout the retreat to Corunna. Given the local rank of lieutenant colonel, he has been chosen to lead the training mission sent to Spain.

  Lieutenant Colonel FITZWILLIAM – The new commander of the 106th, fresh from the Guards. He has some connection with Wickham, although the two do not seem close.

  Lance Sergeant DOBSON – Veteran soldier who was Williams’ ‘front rank man’ and took the volunteer under his wing. The relationship between Dobson and the young officers remains quietly paternal. However, at Roliça he displayed a ruthless streak when he killed an ensign who was having an affair with his daughter Jenny. Repeatedly promoted and broken for drunken misbehaviour, he has reformed following the accidental death of his first wife and his remarriage to the prim Mrs Rawson. He was wounded at Talavera.

  Corporal MURPHY – A capable soldier, Murphy and his wife suffered a dreadful blow when their child died during the retreat to Corunna.

  Ensign HATCH – Former lover of Jenny Dobson, the frequently drunk Hatch was a close friend of Ensign Redman, the officer Dobson murdered at Roliça. Hatch falsely believes that Williams was the killer and has done everything he can to blacken Williams’ reputation. Wounded in the face at Talavera, he remained in Spain when the other members of the 106th returned to England.

  Brevet Major WICKHAM – Handsome, plausible and well connected, Wickham continues to rise in rank and spends as little time with the 106th as possible, preferring staff appointments. Williams and many others have come to doubt his honour, honesty and courage.

  Their families

  Jenny DOBSON – Elder daughter from Dobson’s first marriage, Jenny has ambitions beyond following the drum and flirted with and let herself be seduced by several of the young officers. During the winter she abandoned her newborn son to the care of Williams and Miss MacAndrews and left in search of a better life. She is currently the mistress of a French officer.

  Mrs DOBSON – Herself the widow of a sergeant in the Grenadier Company, the very proper Annie Rawson carried her lapdog in a basket throughout the retreat to Corunna. The marriage to Dobson has done much to reform his conduct.

&
nbsp; Mrs Esther MACANDREWS – American wife of Major MacAndrews, Esther MacAndrews is a bold, unconventional character who has followed him to garrisons around the world. More recently, she managed to sneak out to Portugal, bringing her daughter with her, and the pair endured the horrors of the retreat to Corunna.

  Miss Jane MACANDREWS – Their daughter and sole surviving child, the beautiful Jane has a complicated relationship with Williams. During the retreat to Corunna, she was cut off from the main army and rescued by him, becoming involved in the desperate fight he and a band of stragglers fought to defend a vital bridge against the French under Dalmas.

  Miss Ann WILLIAMS – Eldest of Williams’ three sisters, Anne is an intelligent and prudent young woman.

  Miss Kitty WILLIAMS – The middle sister, Kitty is bright but impulsive, and has become entangled with Garland and Tilney during a visit to Bath.