State of the opposing armies previous to the battle of
Salamanca—Preliminary movements—The Duke of Ragusa’s false
movement—Pakenham engaged with the enemy’s left—Defeats the division
under General Thomières—Reinforced, they again advance to the
attack—Their destruction by a brigade of British cavalry—The
Portuguese repulsed—Desperate exertions of the French—Final charge
of Clinton’s division—Complete defeat of the French army.
The situation and position of the hostile armies have been described in
the last chapter; it left them on the banks of the Douro; and the
probability, nay the certainty, that a collision was about to take place
between them was manifest to the lowest soldier of both.
The passage of the line of the Douro in presence of an army in a
condition for battle is difficult, and it requires much circumspection
on the part of the General to hazard it in the face of an enemy. Yet
Marmont managed to cross. He employed the days of the 13th, 14th, 15th,
and 16th of July in a series of evolutions we had hitherto been
unaccustomed to witness; and, in fine, on the morning of the 17th, after
having made a night-march of thirteen Spanish leagues, his army was over
the river, in battle array on the plain to the right of Nava del Rey,
while the bulk of our army was in full movement upon Toro, distant
several leagues from the 4th and Light Divisions and the two brigades of
heavy horse. The village of Torrecilla de la Orden was in their front.
Marmont, finding how well the passage of the Douro had been masked by
his night-march, and seeing the small number of troops that were at hand
to oppose his movement, ordered his masses forward in the hope of
crushing them. The 4th and Light Divisions, covered by Bock’s
dragoons,[28] retired upon the rising ground behind the villages. At
this point various charges were made by the cavalry of both armies; and
it was not until after a retreat of three hours, under a burning sun and
a torrent of shot, that the two divisions reached the heights of the
Guarena. The soldiers, famishing with thirst, their tongues cleaving to
their mouths, and fainting with fatigue, rushed headlong towards the
river; and before they had drank sufficiently to satisfy their burning
thirst, the heights above them were crowned with forty pieces of cannon
at half-range. Great was the confusion caused by the cannonade; and it
was not without suffering some loss that they effected their retreat to
the opposite bank. In less than an hour they joined the 1st and 3rd
Divisions, and the entire continued the retrograde movement.
-----
Footnote 28:
The 1st and 2nd Heavy Dragoons of the King’s German Legion, lately
arrived from England.
-----
The French then advanced in two columns of twenty-five thousand men
each; the intervening space between them might be reckoned at two miles.
The right wing was commanded by Clausel, the left by Marmont in person.
Clausel had scarcely arrived before the point occupied by the 4th
Division, when, seeing the smallness of their force, he conceived the
idea of making a sudden rush, in the hope of cutting them off. His
troops had scarcely formed when he pushed onward at the head of two
divisions of infantry and the brigade of dragoons commanded by General
Carrié; but Cole, placing himself at the head of the 27th and 40th
Regiments, received him with steadiness, and drove the French infantry
back in disorder. Meanwhile Carrié, seeing some open spaces in Cole’s
line, caused by their movement against Clausel’s infantry, thought to
profit by this disorder, and galloping forward at the head of his
troopers, sabred many men; but at this moment the cavalry sent to
sustain Cole met them, and after a severe but short conflict totally
overthrew the brigade of Carrié, who was himself numbered amongst the
prisoners.
The defeat of Clausel and Carrié checked in a great degree the ardour of
the French Marshal. The following day he rested, and on the 19th threw
back his right wing, and moving forward with the left of his army,
menaced the right of the British; but Lord Wellington, anticipating the
movement, was prepared for him, and offered battle on the plain of
Velosa. This was refused on the part of the French General; and from
this until the 20th, the two armies manœuvred within half cannon-shot
of each other, the British retiring as it had advanced—moving, not
directly rearward, but rather in a line parallel with the march of the
French. The columns were in movement in an open country, fairly in the
view of each other, and their respective attitudes were of that novel
sort that it would be difficult to find the like recorded in the history
of any two armies. At times the French and British were within
musket-shot of each other, the soldiers of both in momentary expectation
of being engaged, yet not one shot was fired by either.
On the 20th, the British army reached the strong position of San
Christoval, on the right bank of the Tormes, distant a league from
Salamanca, the French General likewise resting for the night upon the
heights of Aldea Rubea, holding the ford of Alba on the Tormes. Towards
mid-day on the 21st the French passed the river in two compact bodies,
and, screened by the woody nature of the country, established themselves
upon a new line of operations, threatening, in a manner, the
communication of the British with Rodrigo. This manœuvre—a bold one
it may well be called—under the cannon of an army that had proffered
battle but a few days before on a plain of vast extent, was enough to
puzzle a man less capable of command than he who was at the head of the
allied army; but, unruffled in his temper by such vacillating conduct,
and keeping a steady eye upon his opponent, the British General
diligently followed his track. He passed his army, the 3rd Division
under Pakenham excepted, across the Tormes, and taking hold of one of
two isolated hills called Arapilles, he resolved to rest the right of
his army upon this point while his left leaned upon the Tormes river at
Santa Martha, and, in the event of a battle taking place, to stand the
issue on the ground I have described. The 3rd Division still held the
position of San Christoval on the right bank, but was in readiness to
pass over the river by the bridge of Salamanca, in the event of a battle
taking place. The British General thus threw down the gauntlet for the
second time; and whether it was the impetuous spirit of the French
soldiers, or the temper of their leader, or both combined, that wrought
a change in either, it is not easy to say; but one thing is certain,
that from this moment Marmont made up his mind to try the issue of a
battle.
In front of the Arapilles hill, which was the _point d’appui_ for our
right, stood another, of the same name and greater altitude, distant
five hundred yards from the one we possessed. This mound commanded the
one occupied by us, and, after some severe contention, was finally held
by the French; and it was evident from the earnest manner in which they
sought to gain the possession of it, that it was destined to be the
support of the left of their army, as the other was clearly marked out,
by the previous events, to be intended for our right.
All doubts as to a battle not taking place were now hushed, and the
soldiers of both armies were aware that the result was to decide to whom
Madrid belonged. The die was cast; neither were inclined to back out of
it, or to gainsay what they had in a manner pledged themselves to
fulfil; and the evening of the 21st July 1812 closed upon the heads of
many a soldier who was destined never to behold the setting of another
sun. Nevertheless, the 3rd Division under Pakenham had not been
recalled; on the contrary, we were busy in throwing up breastworks, and
by other means adding to the strength of the position we occupied. Our
division, though encamped on a height of considerable altitude, had
received strict orders to entrench themselves; the earth was thrown up,
the works were palisaded, and in fine they were so well secured that we
had no fear of an attack or surprise. It is this precaution that marks
the great general. Lord Wellington had no idea of being taken aback by
any change in Marmont’s plans during the night: on the contrary, he was
convinced that he was serious in his desire to give battle; but to guard
against any and every chance was but right. Marmont might have again, on
the night of the 21st, passed the river, and brought his army in battle
array before a handful of men, and cut them off piecemeal before his
movement could have been arrested by the British General. The thing was
not probable—barely possible; but where possibilities, much less
probabilities, exist, it is essential that the mind of the commander
should be awake, and instead of brooding over what is likely to take
place the following day, look to what may take place in the night. It
was a remark of that eminent general, Kleber, that to be surprised was
much more disgraceful than to be defeated: he said, “the bravest man may
be beaten; but whoever suffers himself to be surprised is unworthy of
being an officer.”
The evening of the 21st of July was calm, and appeared settled, but
persons well versed in the symptoms of the horizon, which were
unobserved by those intensely occupied with the anticipations of the
events which the morrow was to produce, pronounced that a hurricane was
not far distant. Pakenham’s division was occupied, as I have before
said, in entrenching itself, when about ten at night a torrent of rain
fell in the trenches, and so completely filled them with water that the
soldiers were obliged to desist from their labour. Later in the night a
storm arose, and the wind howled in long and bitter gusts. This was
succeeded by peals of thunder and flashes of lightning, so loud and
vivid that the horses of the cavalry, which were ready saddled, took
alarm, and forcing the pickets which held them, ran away affrighted in
every direction. The thunder rolled in rattling peals, the lightning
darted through the black and almost suffocating atmosphere, and
presented to the view of the soldiers of the two armies the horses as
they ran about from regiment to regiment, or allowed themselves to be
led back to their bivouac by the troopers to whom they belonged. The
vivid flashes of lightning, which seemed to rest upon the grass, for a
few moments wholly illuminated the plain, and the succeeding flashes
occurred with such rapidity that a constant blaze filled the space
occupied by both armies. It was long before the horses could be secured,
and some in the confusion ran away amongst the enemy’s line and were
lost. By midnight the storm began to abate, and towards morning it was
evidently going farther: the lightning flashed at a distance through the
horizon; the rain fell in torrents, and the soldiers of both armies were
drenched to the skin before the hurricane had abated. Towards five
o’clock the storm was partially over, and by six the dusky vapour which
had before veiled the sun disappeared, and showed the two armies
standing in the array they had been placed the evening before. All
doubts were now set at rest as to which side of the river the battle
would be fought. The entire army of Marmont remained on the left bank,
and Pakenham was ordered to move across the Tormes with the 3rd
Division, by the bridge of Salamanca, with as much speed as possible;
but it was one o’clock before he reached the station allotted to him—the
extreme right of the British.
At half-past one o’clock the two armies were within gunshot of each
other. The British, placed as follows, awaited with calmness the orders
of their General. We of the 3rd Division, under Pakenham, were on the
right of the line, but hid by the heights in our front, and unseen by
Marmont; two squadrons of the 14th Light Dragoons and a brigade of
Portuguese horse, commanded by General D‘Urban, supported us. Next to
the 3rd Division stood the 5th, led on by Leith; next to the 5th, and at
the head of the village of Arapilles, were placed the 4th and 7th
Divisions; beyond them, and a little in the rear, was the 6th Division,
under General Clinton; and to the left of all was the Light Division,
commanded by Colonel Barnard. The 1st Division, composed of the Guards
and Germans, was in reserve; and the cavalry, under Sir Stapleton
Cotton, was behind the 3rd and 5th Divisions, ready to act as
circumstances might require. The guns attached to each brigade were up
with the infantry; the park in reserve was behind the cavalry of Cotton,
while in the rear of all, and nearly _hors de combat_, might be seen the
Spanish army, commanded by Don Carlos D‘España. Thus stood affairs, on
the side of the British, at half-past one o’clock.
The French army, composed of eight divisions of infantry, amounting to
forty-two thousand bayonets, four thousand cavalry, and seventy pieces
of artillery, occupied a fine line of battle behind a ridge whose right,
supported by the Arapilles height held by them, overlooked the one upon
which the left of our army rested. Their 5th Division occupied this
point; the 122nd Regiment, belonging to Bonnet’s division, with a
brigade of guns, crowned the Arapilles; the 7th Division supported the
122nd Regiment; the 2nd Division was in reserve behind the 7th; the 6th
were at the head of the wood, protected by twenty pieces of artillery;
and Boyer’s dragoons occupied the open space in front of the wood to the
left of all.
There was some irregularity in the arrangement of these troops, and the
Duke of Ragusa essayed in person to remedy the evil. He marched with the
3rd and 4th Divisions to the head of the wood occupied by Boyer, and it
was then he conceived the idea of extending his left, which afterwards
proved so fatal to him. On our side all was arranged for defence; the
bustle which was evident in the ranks of the enemy caused no change in
our dispositions. Lord Wellington, having surveyed what was passing, and
judging that something was meant by it, gave his glass to one of his
aide-de-camps, while he himself sat down to eat a few mouthfuls of cold
beef. He had scarcely commenced when his aide-de-camp said, “The enemy
are in motion, my lord!”—“Very well; observe what they are doing,” was
the reply. A minute or so elapsed, when the aide-de-camp said, “I think
they are extending to their left.”—“The devil they are!” said his
lordship, springing upon his feet,—“give me the glass quickly.” He took
it, and for a short space continued observing the motions of the enemy
with earnest attention. “Come!” he exclaimed, “I think this will do at
last; ride off instantly, and tell Clinton and Leith to return as
rapidly as possible to their former ground.”
In a moment afterwards Lord Wellington was on horseback, and all his
staff in motion. The soldiers stood to their arms—the colours were
uncased—bayonets fixed—the order to prime and load passed, and in five
minutes after the false movement of Marmont was discovered, our army,
which so short a time before stood on the defensive, was arrayed for the
attack! It was twenty minutes past four when these dispositions were
completed; and here it may not be amiss to tell the reader the nature of
the movement made by the French General, which so materially altered his
position, as likewise that of his antagonist—and in doing so I shall be
as brief as I can.
It has been already seen that both armies were so circumstanced as to
almost preclude the possibility of a battle not taking place. Marmont
coveted it—Wellington did not seek to decline it—both had the confidence
of their soldiers—and both, as to numbers, might be said to be on an
equality. When I speak of “numbers” I include the Portuguese troops.
Military men know what was the _real_ value of these soldiers! At two
o’clock in the afternoon Marmont was the aggressor; he held the higher
hand; yet at four, in two short hours afterwards, the relative situation
of both was altogether changed. The natural question will be—How was
this? It occurred just as I am about to describe.
The two armies took their ground under the impression that the French
would attack, the British defend. All this was plain; but Marmont had no
sooner mounted his horse and taken a survey of the field of battle than
he conceived the idea—like Melas at Marengo—of extending his line; by
marching his 7th Division to his left he might cause an alarm in the
breast of the British General for the safety of his communication with
the Rodrigo road, and in a manner circumvent his position. Lord
Wellington, at a glance, saw all that was passing in the mind of his
antagonist—he saw the error he had committed; and calculating that his
3rd Division (distant but three-quarters of a league from the French
4th) would reach them before the 7th French Division could retrace their
steps and be in a position fitted for fighting, he decided upon
attacking the left, before this division, commanded by Thomières, could
regain its ground, or at all events be in an efficient state to resist
the attack of his invincible Old Third. The result proved the soundness
of the calculation, because, although Thomières got into his place in
the fight, he did so before his men had foreseen or expected it, and
their total overthrow was in itself sufficient to cause the loss of this
great battle.
The 3rd Division had but just resumed their arms when Lord Wellington,
at the head of his staff, appeared amongst them. The officers had not
taken their places in the column, but were in a group together in front
of it. As Lord Wellington rode up to Pakenham every eye was turned
towards him. He looked paler than usual, but notwithstanding the sudden
change he had just made in the disposition of his army, he was quite
unruffled in his manner, and as calm as if the battle about to be fought
was nothing more than an ordinary assemblage of the troops for a
field-day. His words were few and his orders brief. Tapping Pakenham on
the shoulder, he said, “Edward, move on with the 3rd Division—take the
heights in your front—and drive everything before you,”—“I will, my
lord,” was the laconic reply of the gallant Sir Edward.[29] Lord
Wellington galloped on to the next division, gave, I suppose, orders to
the same effect, and in less than half an hour the battle commenced.
-----
Footnote 29:
Grattan evidently discredits Londonderry’s story that when starting
Pakenham cried to his brother-in-law, “Give me one grasp of that
conquering hand before I go”—a tale not much in consonance with the
character of either of the two men.
-----
The British divisions were scarcely in line when fifty pieces of
artillery crowned the ridge occupied by the French. A heavy fire was
soon opened from this park at half range, and as the 4th and 5th
Divisions advanced they were assailed by a very formidable fire; but as
yet the French infantry, posted behind the ridge, were not visible.
Cole’s troops advanced to the left of the Arapilles height, while Pack,
with his brigade of Portuguese, two thousand strong, pressed onward to
attain it. The 5th Division, under Leith, advanced by the right of
Cole’s troops; and at this moment the French 7th Division were seen
hurrying back to occupy the ground they had so short a time before
quitted, while the 3rd and 4th French Divisions were arranging
themselves to receive the attack of Cole and Leith.
When all was in readiness Pakenham departed at the head of ten
battalions[30] and two brigades of guns, to force the left of the enemy.
Three battalions, the 45th, 74th, and 88th, under Colonel Alexander
Wallace of the 88th, composed the first line; the 9th and 21st
Portuguese of the line, under the Portuguese colonel, De Champlemond,
formed the second line; while two battalions of the 5th, the 77th, 83rd,
and 94th British, under the command of Colonel Campbell, were in
reserve. Such was the disposition of the 3rd Division. In addition,
General D‘Urban, with six Portuguese squadrons, had orders to make head
against Boyer’s dragoons; and that the 3rd Division might not be
molested in its operation, Le Marchant’s three regiments of heavy
cavalry were placed in reserve in the rear of it. It now only remains to
relate what actually happened.
-----
Footnote 30:
It should rather be _twelve_ battalions, as each Portuguese regiment
was composed of two weak battalions.
-----
No sooner was Pakenham in motion towards the heights than the ridge he
was about to assail was crowned with twenty pieces of cannon, while in
the rear of this battery was seen Thomières' division endeavouring to
regain its place in the combat. A flat space, one thousand yards in
breadth, was to be crossed before Pakenham could reach the heights. The
French batteries opened a heavy fire, while our two brigades of
artillery, commanded by Captain Douglas, posted on a rising ground
behind the 3rd Division, replied to them with much warmth. Pakenham’s
men might thus be said to be within two fires—that of their own guns
firing over their heads, while the French balls passed through their
ranks, ploughing up the ground in every direction; but the veteran
troops which composed the 3rd Division were not to be shaken even by
this.
Wallace’s three regiments advanced in open column until within two
hundred and fifty yards of the ridge held by the French infantry.
Thomières' column, five thousand strong, had by this time reached their
ground, while in their front the face of the hill had been hastily
garnished with _tirailleurs_. All were impatient to engage, and the calm
but stern advance of Wallace’s brigade was received with beating of
drums and loud cheers from the French, whose light troops, hoping to
take advantage of the time which the deploying from column into line
would take, ran down the face of the hill in a state of great
excitement; but Pakenham, who was naturally of a boiling spirit and
hasty temper, was on this day perfectly cool. He told Wallace to form
line from open column without halting, and thus the different companies,
by throwing forward their right shoulders, were in line without the slow
manœuvre of a deployment. Astonished at the rapidity of the movement,
the French riflemen commenced an irregular and hurried fire, and even at
this early stage of the battle a looker-on could, from the difference in
the demeanour of the troops of the two nations, form a tolerably correct
opinion of what would be the result.
Regardless of the fire of the _tirailleurs_, and the showers of grape
and canister, Pakenham, at the head of Wallace’s brigade, continued to
press onward; his centre suffered, but still advanced; his left and
right being less oppressed by the weight of the fire, continued to
advance at a more rapid pace, and as his wings inclined forward and
outstripped the centre, the brigade assumed the form of a crescent. The
manœuvre was a bold, as well as a novel one, and the appearance of
the brigade imposing and unique, because it so happened that all the
British officers were in front of their men—a rare occurrence. The
French officers were also in front; but their relative duties were
widely different: the latter, encouraging their men into the heat of the
battle; the former keeping their devoted soldiers back!—what a splendid
national contrast! Amongst the mounted officers were Sir Edward Pakenham
and his staff, Wallace of the 88th, commanding the brigade, and his
gallant aide-de-camp, Mackie (at last a Captain—in his regular turn!),
Majors Murphy and Seton of the 88th, Colonels Forbes and Greenwell of
the 45th, Colonel Trench of the 74th, and several others whose names I
cannot now remember.
In spite of the fire of Thomières' _tirailleurs_, they continued at the
head of the right brigade, while the soldiers, with their firelocks on
the rest, followed close upon the heels of their officers, like troops
accustomed to conquer. They speedily got footing upon the brow of the
hill, but before they had time to take breath, the entire French
division, with drums beating and uttering loud shouts, ran forward to
meet them, and belching forth a torrent of bullets from five thousand
muskets, brought down almost the entire of Wallace’s first rank, and
more than half of his officers. The brigade staggered back from the
force of the shock, but before the smoke had altogether cleared away,
Wallace, looking full in the faces of his soldiers, pointed to the
French column, and leading the shattered brigade up the hill, without a
moment’s hesitation, brought them face to face before the French had
time to witness the terrible effect of their murderous fire.
Astounded by the unshaken determination of Wallace’s soldiers,
Thomières' division wavered; nevertheless they opened a heavy discharge
of musketry, but it was unlike the former,—it was irregular and
ill-directed, the men acted without concert or method, and many fired in
the air. At length their fire ceased altogether, and the three
regiments, for the first time, cheered! The effect was electric;
Thomières' troops were seized with a panic, and as Wallace closed upon
them, his men could distinctly remark their bearing. Their mustachioed
faces, one and all, presented the same ghastly hue, a horrid family
likeness throughout; and as they stood to receive the shock they were
about to be assailed with, they reeled to and fro like men intoxicated.
The French officers did all that was possible, by voice, gesture, and
example, to rouse their men to a proper sense of their situation, but in
vain. One, the colonel of the leading regiment (the 22nd), seizing a
firelock, and beckoning to his men to follow, ran forward a few paces
and shot Major Murphy dead in front of the 88th. However, his career
soon closed: a bullet, the first that had been fired from our ranks,
pierced his head; he flung up his arms, fell forward, and expired.
The brigade, which till this time cheerfully bore up against the heavy
fire they had been exposed to without returning a shot, were now
impatient, and the 88th greatly excited; for Murphy, dead and bleeding,
with one foot hanging in the stirrup-iron, was dragged by his affrighted
horse along the front of his regiment. The soldiers became exasperated,
and asked to be let forward. Pakenham, seeing that the proper moment had
arrived, called out to Wallace “to let them loose.” The three regiments
ran onward, and the mighty phalanx, which but a moment before was so
formidable, loosened and fell in pieces before fifteen hundred
invincible British soldiers fighting in a line of only two deep.
Wallace, seeing the terrible confusion that prevailed in the enemy’s
column, pressed on with his brigade, calling to his soldiers “to push on
to the muzzle.” A vast number were killed in this charge of bayonets,
but the men, wearied by their exertions, the intolerable heat of the
weather, and famishing from thirst, were nearly run to a standstill.
Immediately on our left, the 5th Division were discharging volleys
against the French 4th; and Park’s brigade could be seen mounting the
Arapilles height. But disregarding everything except the complete
destruction of the column before him, Pakenham followed it with the
brigade of Wallace, supported by the reserves of his division. The
battle at this point would have been decided on the moment, had the
heavy horse, under Le Marchant, been near enough to sustain him. The
confusion of the enemy was so great, that they were mixed pell-mell
together without any regard to order or regularity; and it was manifest
that nothing short of a miracle could save Thomières from total
destruction. Sir Edward continued to press on at the head of Wallace’s
brigade, but the French outran him. Had Le Marchant been aware of this
state of the combat, or been near enough to profit by it, Pakenham would
have settled the business by six o’clock instead of seven. An hour at
any time, during a battle, is a serious lapse of time; but in this
action every minute was of vital import. Day was rapidly drawing to a
close; the Tormes was close behind the army of Marmont; ruin stared him
in the face; in a word, his left wing was doubled up—lost; and Pakenham
could have turned to the support of the 4th and 5th Divisions had our
cavalry been on the spot ready to back Wallace at the moment he broke
Thomières' column. This, beyond doubt, was the moment by which to
profit, that the enemy might not have time to recollect himself; but
while Le Marchant was preparing to take a part in the combat, Thomières,
with admirable presence of mind, remedied the terrible confusion of his
division, and calling up a fresh brigade to his support, once more led
his men into the fight, assumed the offensive,[31] and Pakenham was now
about to be assailed in turn. This was the most critical moment of the
battle at this point. Boyer’s horsemen stood before us, inclining
towards our right, which was flanked by two squadrons of the 14th
Dragoons and two regiments of Portuguese cavalry; but we had little
dependence on the Portuguese, and it behoved us to look to ourselves.
-----
Footnote 31:
It was Maucune’s division; Thomières had been killed by now, and his
regiments entirely scattered.
-----
Led on by the ardour of conquest, we had followed the column until we at
length found ourselves in an open plain, intersected with cork-trees,
opposed by a multitude who, reinforced, again rallied and turned upon us
with fury. Pakenham and Wallace rode along the line from wing to wing,
almost from rank to rank, and fulfilled the functions of adjutants, in
assisting the officers to reorganise the tellings-off of their men for
square. Meanwhile the first battalion of the 5th drove back some
squadrons of Boyer’s dragoons; the other six regiments were fast
approaching the point held by Wallace, but the attitude of the French
cavalry in our front and upon our right flank caused some uneasiness.
The peals of musketry along the centre still continued without
intermission; the smoke was so thick that nothing to our left was
distinguishable; some men of the 5th Division got intermingled with
ours; the dry grass was set on fire by the numerous cartridge-papers
that strewed the field of battle; the air was scorching; and the smoke,
rolling onward in huge volumes, nearly suffocated us. A loud cheering
was heard in our rear; the brigade half turned round, supposing
themselves about to be attacked by the French cavalry. Wallace called
out to his men to mind the tellings-off for square. A few seconds
passed, the trampling of horses was heard, the smoke cleared away, and
the heavy brigade of Le Marchant[32] was seen coming forward in line at
a canter. “Open right and left” was an order quickly obeyed; the line
opened, the cavalry passed through the intervals, and, forming rapidly
in our front, prepared for their work.
-----
Footnote 32:
5th Dragoon Guards and 3rd and 4th Dragoons.
-----
The French column, which a moment before held so imposing an attitude,
became startled at this unexpected sight. A victorious and
highly-excited infantry pressing close upon them, a splendid brigade of
three regiments of cavalry ready to burst through their ill-arranged and
beaten column, while no appearance of succour was at hand to protect
them, was enough to appal the boldest intrepidity. The plain was filled
with the vast multitude; retreat was impossible; and the troopers came
still pouring in to join their comrades, already prepared for the
attack. Hastily, yet with much regularity, all things considered, they
attempted to get into square; but Le Marchant’s brigade galloped forward
before the evolution was half completed. The column hesitated, wavered,
tottered, and then stood still! The motion of the countless bayonets as
they clashed together might be likened to a forest about to be assailed
by a tempest, whose first warnings announce the ravage it is about to
inflict. Thomières' division[33] vomited forth a dreadful volley of fire
as the horsemen thundered across the flat! Le Marchant was killed, and
fell downright in the midst of the French bayonets; but his brigade
pierced through the vast mass, killing or trampling down all before
them. The conflict was severe, and the troopers fell thick and fast; but
their long heavy swords cut through bone as well as flesh. The groans of
the dying, the cries of the wounded, the roar of the cannon, and the
piteous moans of the mangled horses, as they ran away affrighted from
the terrible scene, or lay with shattered limbs, unable to move, in the
midst of the burning grass, was enough to unman men not placed as we
were; but upon us it had a different effect, and our cheers were heard
far from the spot where this fearful scene was acting.
-----
Footnote 33:
It should rather be Maucune’s.
-----
Such as got away from the sabres of the horsemen sought safety amongst
the ranks of our infantry, and scrambling under the horses, ran to us
for protection—like men who, having escaped the first shock of a wreck,
will cling to any broken spar, no matter how little to be depended upon.
Hundreds of beings, frightfully disfigured, in whom the human face and
form were almost obliterated—black with dust, worn down with fatigue,
and covered with sabre-cuts and blood—threw themselves amongst us for
safety. Not a man was bayoneted—not one even molested or plundered; and
the invincible old 3rd Division on this day surpassed themselves, for
they not only defeated their terrible enemies in a fair stand-up fight,
but actually covered their retreat, and protected them at a moment when,
without such aid, their total annihilation was certain. Under similar
circumstances would the French have acted so? I fear not. The men who
murdered Ponsonby at Waterloo, when he was alone and unprotected, would
have shown but little courtesy to the 3rd Division, placed in a similar
way.
Nine pieces of artillery, two eagles, and five thousand prisoners were
captured at this point; still the battle raged with unabated fury on our
left, immediately in front of the 5th Division. Leith fell wounded as he
led on his men, but his division carried the point in dispute, and drove
the enemy before them up the hill.
While those events were taking place on the right, the 4th Division,
which formed the centre of the army, met with a serious opposition. The
more distant Arapilles, occupied by the French 122nd, whose numbers did
not count more than four hundred,[34] supported by a few pieces of
cannon, was left to the Portuguese brigade of General Pack, amounting to
two thousand bayonets. With fatal, though well-founded reliance—their
former, conduct taken into the scale—Cole’s division advanced into the
plain, confident that all was right with Pack’s troops, and a terrible
struggle between them and Bonnet’s corps took place. It was, however,
but of short duration. Bonnet’s soldiers were driven back in confusion,
and up to this moment all had gone on well. The three British divisions
engaged overthrew every obstacle, and the battle might be said to be
won, had Pack’s formidable brigade—formidable in numbers at
least—fulfilled their part; but these men totally failed in their effort
to take the height occupied only by a few hundred Frenchmen, and thus
gave the park of artillery that was posted with them full liberty to
turn its efforts against the rear and flank of Cole’s soldiers. Nothing
could be worse than the state in which the 4th Division was now placed;
and the battle, which ought to have been, and had been in a manner, won,
was still in doubt.
-----
Footnote 34:
This is unfair to the Portuguese; the 122nd had 1000 bayonets.
-----
Bonnet, seeing the turn which Pack’s failure had wrought in his favour,
re-formed his men, and advanced against Cole, while the fire from the
battery and small arms on the Arapilles height completed the confusion.
Cole fell wounded; half of his division were cut off, the remainder in
full retreat; and Bonnet’s troops, pressing on in a compact body, made
it manifest that a material change had taken place in the battle, and
that ere it was gained some ugly uphill work was yet to be done.
Marshal Beresford, who arrived at the moment, galloped up at the head of
a brigade of the 5th Division, which he took out of the second line, and
for a moment covered the retreat of Cole’s troops; but this
force—composed of Portuguese—was insufficient to arrest the progress of
the enemy, who advanced in the full confidence of an assured victory;
and at this critical moment Beresford was carried off the field wounded.
Bonnet’s troops advanced, loudly cheering, while the entire of Cole’s
division and Spry’s brigade of Portuguese were routed. Our centre was
thus endangered. Boyer’s dragoons, after the overthrow of the French
left, countermarched and moved rapidly to the support of Bonnet; they
were close in the track of his infantry; and the fate of the battle was
still uncertain. The fugitives of the 7th and 4th French Divisions ran
to the succour of Bonnet, and by the time they had joined him his force
had indeed assumed a formidable aspect; and thus reinforced, it stood in
an attitude far different from what it would have done had Pack’s
brigade succeeded in its attack.
Lord Wellington, who saw what had taken place by the failure of Pack’s
troops, ordered up the 6th Division to the support of the 4th; and the
battle, although it was half-past eight o’clock at night, recommenced
with the same fury as at the onset.
Clinton’s division, consisting of six thousand bayonets, rapidly
advanced to assert its place in the combat, and to relieve the 4th from
the awkward predicament in which it was placed; they essayed to gain
what was lost by the failure of Pack’s troops in their feeble effort to
wrest the Arapilles height from a few brave Frenchmen; but they were
received by Bonnet’s troops at the point of the bayonet, and the fire
opened against them seemed to be threefold more heavy than that
sustained by the 3rd and 5th Divisions. It was nearly dark; and the
great glare of light caused by the thunder of the artillery, the
continued blaze of the musketry, and the burning grass, gave to the face
of the hill a novel and terrific appearance: it was one vast sheet of
flame, and Clinton’s men looked as if they were attacking a burning
mountain, the crater of which was defended by a barrier of shining
steel. But nothing could stop the intrepid valour of the 6th Division,
as they advanced with a desperate resolution to carry the hill. The
troops posted on the face of it to arrest their advance were trampled
down and destroyed at the first charge, and each reserve sent forward to
extricate them met with the same fate. Still Bonnet’s reserves, having
attained their place in the fight, and the fugitives from Thomières'
division joining them at the moment, prolonged the battle until dark.
Those men, besmeared with blood, dust, and clay, half naked, and some
carrying only broken weapons, fought with a fury not to be surpassed;
but their impetuosity was at length calmed by the bayonets of Clinton’s
troops, and they no longer fought for victory but for safety. After a
frightful struggle, they were driven from their last hold in confusion;
and a general and overwhelming charge, which the nature of the ground
enabled Clinton to make, carried this ill-formed mass of desperate
soldiers before him, as a shattered wreck borne along by the force of
some mighty current.
The mingled mass of fugitives fled to the woods and to the river for
safety, and under cover of the night succeeded in gaining the pass of
Alba over the Tormes. It was now ten o’clock at night: the battle was
ended. At this point it had been confined to a small space, and the
ground, trampled and stained deep, gave ample evidence of the havoc that
had taken place. Lord Wellington, overcome as he was with fatigue,
placed himself at the head of the 1st and Light Divisions and a brigade
of cavalry, and following closely the retreating footsteps of the enemy,
with those troops who had not fired a shot during the conflict, left the
remnant of his victorious army to sleep upon the field of battle they
had so hardly won.[35]
-----
Footnote 35:
The reader will note a considerable number of echoes from Napier in
this interesting and well-written chapter. But the narrative differs
in many points from that of Napier, especially as to the sequence of
events in that part of the field where the 88th served—notably as to
the moment at which Le Marchant’s dragoons charged. Grattan, being an
eye-witness, is probably nearer the truth than Napier, who was on the
other wing in the ranks of the Light Division. On the other hand, he
makes some slips, especially in stating that Pakenham’s _second_
assault was made upon Thomières' division instead of Maucune’s.
-----