Masséna beats a Retreat
(1810-11)
“_There will be a breeze near Lisbon, but I hope we shall have the
best of it._”
WELLINGTON.
Owing to the failure of one of Wellington’s officers to occupy the
Boialva Pass, Masséna was able to turn the British position, with the
result that his advanced guard appeared in front of Coimbra on the
evening of the 30th September.
When the Commander-in-Chief saw the French army defiling across the
mountains “he seemed uneasy,” according to one who watched him, “his
countenance bore a fierce, angry expression, and, suddenly mounting his
horse, he rode away without speaking.”
No attempt was made to attack the enemy, Wellington considering it more
prudent to leave the ridge, cross the Mondego, and retreat towards
Lisbon. This resolution was come to on the 28th September, and on the
1st October the last man of the rear-guard had evacuated the town.
“Although I could not save Coimbra,” Wellington writes, “I have very
little doubt of being able to hold this country against the force which
has now attacked it.”
The place was immediately occupied by Masséna’s famished troops,
who found it not entirely destitute of eatables, as seemed only
too probable judging by previous experience, although much of the
food had been destroyed by Wellington’s orders. They had merely to
help themselves to what they could find, for most of the population
had followed in the wake of the allied army. “The inhabitants
of the country have fled from their houses universally,” the
Commander-in-Chief writes to the Earl of Liverpool from Alcobaço on
the 5th October, “carrying with them every thing they could take away
which could be deemed useful to the enemy; and the habits of plunder
which have been so long encouraged in the enemy’s army prevent them
from deriving any general advantage from the little resource which the
inhabitants may have been obliged to leave behind them.”
It is the straightforward utterance of a straightforward man.
Wellington seldom indulged in picturesque language; he had neither the
natural ability which commands a delicate choice of language nor the
time for vivid diction. His mind was cast in a sterner mould; he craved
for exactness, for cold, matter-of-fact calculations, for ungarnished
essentials.
[Illustration: The Retreat from Coimbra
Thomas Maybank]
For graphic details we must turn to such an authority as Sir Charles
Stewart, who writes with the fluency of a gifted war-correspondent
permitted to ride with the officers and obtain a view of everything
of importance. “Crowds of men, women, and children,” he says,“--of
the sick, the aged, and the infirm, as well as of the robust and the
young--covered the roads and the fields in every direction. Mothers
might be seen with infants at their breasts hurrying towards the
capital, and weeping as they went; old men, scarcely able to totter
along, made way chiefly by the aid of their sons and daughters; whilst
the whole wayside soon became strewed with bedding, blankets, and
other species of household furniture, which the weary fugitives were
unable to carry farther. During the retreat of Sir John Moore’s army
numerous heartrending scenes were brought before us; for then, as now,
the people, particularly in Galicia, fled at our approach; but
they all returned sooner or later to their homes, nor ever dreamed of
accumulating upon our line of march, or following our fortunes. The
case was different here. Those who forsook their dwellings, forsook
them under the persuasion that they should never behold them again;
and the agony which such an apprehension appeared to excite among the
majority exceeds any attempt at description.... It could not but occur
to us that, though the devastating system must inevitably bear hard
upon the French, the most serious evils would, in all probability,
arise out of it, both to ourselves and our allies, from the famine and
general distress which it threatened to bring upon a crowd so dense,
shut up within the walls of a single city. At the moment there were
few amongst us who seemed not disposed to view it with reprobation;
because, whilst they condemned its apparent violation of every feeling
of humanity and justice, they doubted the soundness of the policy in
which it originated.”
Leaving a meagre force to guard the wounded and sick at Coimbra,
Masséna started off in pursuit of the enemy as soon as the most
primeval of creature comforts had been satisfied. Six days after
his soldiers had left the place, namely, the 11th October 1810,
Wellington’s men entered the lines of Torres Vedras, but so rapid had
been the French advance that they began to appear on the following
morning. La Romana had crossed from Estremadura with several thousand
Spanish troops, thereby adding to Wellington’s forces, while Portuguese
militia threatened the enemy’s communications.
Masséna dared not attempt to retreat for fear of incurring Napoleon’s
displeasure. His only hope, as he repented at leisure, was that the
supplies of the defenders might fail, or that the Emperor, in response
to urgent dispatches, would speedily send reinforcements both of men
and of arms. The news that Coimbra, its garrison, and its invalids,
had fallen into the hands of militia under Colonel Trant merely added
insult to injury. As regards “starving out” the British and their
allies, it was far more probable that their own food would run out, for
while Wellington held the Tagus a constant supply of the necessaries
of life was secured from incoming ships. Hunger did indeed eventually
drive Masséna from Santarem, a town some thirty miles from Wellington’s
lines, on which he had been forced to fall back in November. The
place, perched on the summit of a height between the rivers Rio Mayor
and Aviella, was admirably suited for defensive purposes, but after
the surrounding country had been stripped there was nothing to do but
retire. The Marshal was fortunate in finding a district which the
Portuguese had not laid bare. It sounds almost incredible, but it is
recorded that when Masséna succeeded in crossing the frontier his men
were so famished that one of them consumed no less than seventeen
pounds of native bread. The French General awaited with feverish
anxiety the coming of Soult to his relief for nearly four months, but
that worthy was fighting battles and besieging Badajoz, which the
Spaniards surrendered on the 10th March 1811, five days after his
colleague had been forced by sheer necessity to begin a retreat across
the mountains towards Ciudad Rodrigo.
The author of “The Journal of an Officer,” a reliable eye-witness, thus
describes the town after Masséna had left it: “I have been for some
weeks in view of Santarem, and saw at last with pleasure some symptoms
of the French abandoning it. The first was setting fire to one of the
principal convents in the upper town, and part of the lower town; the
volume of smoke was immense for three days. On the fourth morning some
information to depend on reached us, and the bugle of attack roused us
from our pillows. The haze of the morning clearing up, we could easily
perceive the out sentinels were men of straw, and quite passive.[62] In
fact, a better managed retreat was never executed. Not a vestige of a
dollar’s worth remained. Being at the outposts with the 11th Dragoons
and the 1st Royals, I entered with them, and three miserable deserters,
who had hid themselves with one too ill to move, were the only enemies
to be found. Such a scene of horror, misery, and desolation, scarce
ever saluted the eye of man. Smoking ruins, the accumulated filth of
months, horses and human beings putrefied to suffocation, nearly caused
to many a vomiting. The houses had scarcely a vestige of wood--doors,
windows, ceilings, roofs, burnt; and where the sick had expired,
there left to decay! The number thus left were great. Every church
demolished, the tombs opened for searching after hidden plate, every
altar-piece universally destroyed, and the effluvia so offensive as to
defy describing.
“In some gardens, the miserable heads, undecayed, stuck up like
scarecrows; in some wells, a body floating.
“Down a precipice to which we were invited by prospect to look, the
human and animal carcases ... repulsed our senses, and shudderingly
vibrated the soul at the savage, horrible, diabolical acts of a
French army. Greater spirits, better discipline, and more order,
never attended an army than this. But to see the country, is to weep
for the horrors of war. Such horrid excess I never saw before. Every
town, village, or cottage destroyed. The growing nursery and the wild
grove, each havocked for destruction’s sake. The pot that refined
the oil broken, the wine-press burnt, for burning’s sake; the grape
vines destroyed as noxious weeds; the furniture unburnt thrown from
the windows, and with carriages, etc., made a bonfire of; the large
libraries strewed over the land in remnants of paper; the noble convent
in ashes, and the poor, unhappy, aged inhabitants, unable to flee, hung
around as ornamenting the walls, ten or twelve in a place!”
Wellington, who had now received reinforcements, moved his headquarters
to Santarem on the 6th March, anxious to overtake the enemy with the
least possible delay. He received the usual conflicting accounts of
the direction taken by them and their probable destination. Oporto was
suggested, which the Commander did not believe, “but they are in such a
state of distress, that it may be expected that they will try anything,
however desperate. But I follow them closely; and they will find it
difficult to stop anywhere, for any purpose, till they shall draw near
the frontier.” He detached two divisions under Beresford, hoping that
he might be able to relieve Badajoz, and with five others continued to
keep “close at their heels,” to use his own expression. Unfortunately
the place fell before it was possible for Beresford to reach it. Had
the Governor held out, Wellington was of opinion that “the Peninsula
would have been safe,” and the relief of the south of Spain practically
certain.
“Affairs” with the enemy were frequent during Wellington’s pursuit,
but by forcing them to evacuate the various positions they attempted
to occupy, such as Pombal, Redinha, Cazal Nova and Foz d’Aronce,
any designs they might have had against the northern provinces were
prevented, notwithstanding the fact that the country afforded “many
advantageous positions to a retreating army, of which the enemy have
shown that they know how to avail themselves.”
In writing to the Earl of Liverpool, Wellington remarks that “their
conduct throughout this retreat has been marked by a barbarity seldom
equalled, and never surpassed.” He tells a moving story of plunder,
the burning of houses, a convent, and a bishop’s palace. “This is the
mode,” he adds in a burst of indignation, “in which the promises have
been performed, and the assurances have been fulfilled, which were held
out in the proclamation of the French Commander-in-Chief, in which he
told the inhabitants of Portugal that he was not come to make war upon
them, but with a powerful army of 110,000 men to drive the English into
the sea.
“It is to be hoped that the example of what has occurred in this
country will teach the people of this and of other nations what value
they ought to place on such promises and assurances; and that there
is no security for life, or for anything which makes life valuable,
excepting in decided resistance to the enemy.”
The difficulties of the chase were many and oftentimes almost
unsurmountable. Boats and bridge-building materials were scarce, and
caused delay in crossing rivers. Shoes wore out rapidly on account
of the bad quality of the leather, and many of them were too small.
Endless trouble was caused by the Spanish muleteers, who absolutely
refused to attend the Portuguese troops, some of whom Wellington was
obliged to leave in the rear owing to the scarcity of provisions. For
instance, two brigades of infantry had to make nine days’ provisions,
consisting chiefly of bread and a little meat supplied by the British
commissariat, last for twenty-four days. “This is the assistance I
receive from the Portuguese Government!” the Commander-in-Chief writes,
and one can imagine his grim face hardening as he pens the words. There
were the usual grievances against the rascally army contractors. The
boots sent out were of bad quality, “in general too small.” We find him
ordering 150,000 pairs of boots and 100,000 pairs of soles and heels at
a time.
The most serious action during Masséna’s retreat was fought at Sabugal,
on the Coa, on the 3rd April. “We moved on the 2nd,” Wellington says
when giving details of the engagement to Beresford, “and the British
army was formed opposite to them; the divisions of militia, under
Trant and Wilson, were sent across the river at Cinco Villas, to alarm
Almeida for its communication. Yesterday morning”--he is writing on
the 4th inst.--“we moved the whole army (with the exception of the
6th division, which remained at Rapoula de Coa, opposite Loison) to
the right, in order to turn this position, and force the passage of
the river. The 2nd corps could not have stood here for a moment; but
unfortunately the Light division, which formed the right of the whole,
necessarily passed first, and the leading brigade, Beckwith’s, drove
in the enemy’s piquets, which were followed briskly by four companies
of the 95th, and three of Elder’s caçadores, and supported by the
43rd regiment. At this time there came on a rain storm, and it was as
difficult to see as in the fogs on Busaco, and these troops pushed on
too far, and became engaged with the main body of the enemy. The light
infantry fell back upon their support, which instead of halting, moved
forward. The French then seeing how weak the body was which had passed,
attempted to drive them down to the Coa, and did oblige the 43rd to
turn. They rallied again, however, and beat in the French; but were
attacked by fresh troops and cavalry, and were obliged to retire; but
formed again, and beat back the enemy. At this time the 52nd joined the
43rd, and both moved on upon the enemy, and to be charged and attacked
again in the same manner, and beat back. They formed again, moved
forward upon the enemy, and established themselves on the top of the
hill in an enclosure, and here they beat off the enemy.
“But Reynier was placing a body of infantry on their left flank, which
must have destroyed them, only that at that moment the head of the 3rd
division, which had passed the Coa on the left of the Light division,
came up, and opened their fire upon this column; and the 5th division,
which passed this bridge and through this town [Sabugal], made their
appearance.
“The enemy then retired, having lost in this affair a howitzer, and I
should think not less than 1000 men.
“Our loss is much less than one would have supposed possible, scarcely
200 men. The 43rd have 73 killed and wounded. But really these attacks
in columns[63] against our lines are very contemptible.
“The contest was latterly entirely for the howitzer, which was taken
and retaken twice, and at last remained in our hands. Our cavalry,
which ought to have crossed the Coa on the right of the Light division,
crossed at the same ford, and therefore could be of no use to them.
Besides they went too far to the right.
“In short, these combinations for engagements do not answer, unless one
is upon the spot to direct every trifling movement. I was upon a hill
on the left of the Coa, immediately above the town, till the 3rd and
5th divisions crossed, whence I could see every movement on both sides,
and could communicate with ease with everybody; but that was not near
enough.
“We took 6 Officers, and between 200 and 300 prisoners, and Soult’s[64]
and Loison’s baggage.”
Two days after this affair on the banks of the Coa Masséna crossed the
frontier, having been literally driven out of Portugal. Within a few
hours we find Wellington urging on Beresford the necessity for a strict
blockade of Badajoz preparatory to besieging it. Masséna fell back
upon Salamanca, while Wellington busied himself with the investment of
Almeida, where a French garrison had been left. With Ciudad Rodrigo,
the second and remaining place occupied by the Marshal’s troops, he
felt he could do little at the moment beyond intercepting supplies.
These two forts, which are within comparatively easy distance and
almost parallel, the one in Portugal and the other in Spain, were
extremely important, and commanded the north-eastern frontier of the
former country.
Incidentally, the British Commander-in-Chief also took the opportunity
to publish a lengthy Proclamation to the Portuguese nation, of which
the following is a brief synopsis. He informs the inhabitants that they
are now “at liberty to return to their occupations,” that nearly four
years have elapsed since “the tyrant of Europe” invaded the country,
the object being “the insatiable desire of plunder, the wish to
disturb the tranquillity, and to enjoy the riches of a people who had
passed nearly half a century in peace.” He then strikes a deeper note
and adds a few words of advice as to the future:
“The Marshal General, however, considers it his duty, in announcing the
intelligence of the result of the last invasion, to warn the people
of Portugal, that, although the danger is removed, it is not entirely
gone by. They have something to lose, and the tyrant will endeavor to
plunder them: they are happy under the mild government of a beneficent
Sovereign; and he will endeavor to destroy their happiness: they have
successfully resisted him, and he will endeavor to force them to submit
to his iron yoke. They should be unremitting in their preparations for
decided and steady resistance; those capable of bearing arms should
learn the use of them; or those whose age or sex renders them unfit
to bear arms should fix upon places of security and concealment, and
should make all the arrangements for their easy removal to them when
the moment of danger shall approach. Valuable property, which tempts
the avarice of the tyrant and his followers, and is the great object of
their invasion, should be carefully buried beforehand, each individual
concealing his own, and thus not trusting to the weakness of others to
keep a secret in which they may not be interested.
“Measures should be taken to conceal or destroy provisions which cannot
be removed, and everything which can tend to facilitate the enemy’s
progress; for this may be depended upon, that the enemy’s troops seize
upon everything, and leave nothing for the owner.
“By these measures, whatever may be the superiority of numbers with
which the desire of plunder and of revenge may induce, and his power
may enable, the tyrant again to invade this country, the result will be
certain; and the independence of Portugal, and the happiness of its
inhabitants, will be finally established to their eternal honor.”[65]
However “beneficent” the Sovereign--who was a lunatic and out of the
country--might be, Wellington had little that was good to say of its
present rulers. He told them that he would inform the home Cabinet
“that they cannot with propriety continue to risk a British army in
this country unsupported by any exertion of any description on the part
of the Portuguese Government.” The army was lamentably deficient “in
that essential arm, its cavalry,” and the commissariat arrangements
remained hopelessly deficient.
The blockade of Almeida being “a simple operation, which I do not think
the enemy have the means or inclination to interrupt,” Wellington left
it in the hands of Lieut.-General Sir Brent Spencer in the middle of
April, and set out from Villa Fermosa for Alemtejo to discuss his
future projects with Castaños and also to visit Beresford. He knew that
the French at Almeida would be forced to withdraw or surrender owing
to the scarcity of provisions, but at Ciudad Rodrigo “there is a good
garrison, and we certainly shall not get that place without a siege;
for which God knows if we shall have time before the enemy will be
reinforced. The first object is certainly Badajoz, and, as soon as I
know whether any or what part of our train is required for the attack
of that place, I shall send the remainder to Oporto, and make all the
arrangements for the eventual attack of Ciudad Rodrigo.”
As Soult was then busily occupied in fortifying Seville, to the south
of Badajoz, the siege of the latter city became imperative, and without
unnecessary delay. Soult might attempt to relieve Badajoz; certainly
his presence at Seville precluded the likelihood of the garrison being
deceived by any feint or actual attack made on that place by the allies
with the object of distracting their attention.
Although Wellington did not meet Castaños personally during his visit
to the south, he sent him a plan of operations, to be undertaken with
Blake and Ballasteros in co-operation with Beresford, and got through
an immense amount of work in connection with the siege. “The continued
and increasing inefficiency of the Portuguese regiments with this
army,” gave him much cause for concern. On the 30th April 1811, four
days after Parliament had thanked him for the liberation of Portugal,
he tells Beresford that “if some effectual steps are not taken, the
Portuguese force with this part of the army (_i.e._ Wellington’s) will
be annihilated.” He concludes by saying that he must report the matter
to the home authorities, which he did. “The Ministers and the English
public believe that we have 30,000 men for whom we pay, and half as
many more supported by the Portuguese Government. I do not believe that
I have here 11,000, or that you have 5000, and of the number many are
not fit for service.”
Masséna was not the type of man who easily acknowledges defeat. He
had been busily engaged at Salamanca in getting what remained of his
army into working order. He had lost at least 25,000 of the 70,000 men
who had entered Portugal, but when he decided to go to the assistance
of Almeida he could with difficulty muster only 39,000, some 5000
more than Wellington could put into the field. Having relieved Ciudad
Rodrigo, Masséna crossed the Agueda, with the fixed intention of
raising the blockade of Almeida. On the 3rd May he was in sight of the
British army, now arrayed at Fuentes de Oñoro.
The Commander-in-Chief had returned from his travels on the 28th of the
previous month, after having been informed by Spencer of the gathering
of the enemy. “I’ll venture to say,” remarks Kincaid, “that there was
not a heart in the army that did not beat more lightly when we heard
the joyful news of his arrival the day before the enemy’s advance.” On
the 3rd May the British were “warmly but partially engaged,” and “made
no progress in raising the blockade.”
The real battle began on the 5th, and was, in Alison’s opinion, “the
most critical in which Lord Wellington was engaged in the whole war,
and in which the chances of irreparable defeat were most against the
British army.” He then gives some of Sir Charles Stewart’s reflections
on the fight, which help us to appreciate its difficulties from the
point of view of an actual eye-witness who took a leading part in the
battle. “Masséna’s superiority to us,” he notes, “both in cavalry
and artillery, was very great; whilst the thick woods in our front
afforded the most convenient plateau which he could have desired for
the distribution of his columns unseen, and therefore disregarded. Had
he rightly availed himself of this advantage, he might have poured the
mass of his force upon any single point, and perhaps made an impression
before we could have had time to support it. Had he commenced his
attack with a violent cannonade, it must have produced some havoc,
and probably considerable confusion, in our line. He might then have
moved forward his cavalry _en masse_, supporting it by strong columns
of infantry; and had either the one or the other succeeded in piercing
through, our situation would have been by no means an enviable one....
Had he thrown his cavalry round our right flank--a movement which
we should have found it no easy matter to prevent--crossed the Coa,
advanced upon our lines of communication, and stopped our supplies,
at the moment when, with his infantry, he threatened to turn us; then
pushed upon Sabugal and the places near, he might have compelled us
to pass the Coa with all our artillery at the most disadvantageous
places, and cut us off from our best and safest retreat. There was,
indeed, a time during the affair of the 5th, when his design of acting
in this manner was seriously apprehended; and Lord Wellington was in
consequence reduced to the necessity of deciding whether he should
relinquish the Sabugal road or raise the blockade of Almeida. But
Lord Wellington’s presence of mind never for a moment forsook him. He
felt no distrust in his troops; to retain his hold over a secure and
accessible line of retreat was therefore to him a consideration of less
moment than to continue an operation of which the ultimate success
could now be neither doubtful nor remote; and he at once determined to
expose Sabugal rather than throw open a communication with Almeida. It
was a bold measure, but it was not adopted without due consideration,
and it received an ample reward in the successful termination of this
hard-fought battle.”
Wellington’s line was extended on a table-land between the rivers
Turones and Dos Casas. It reached several miles, namely, from Fort
Conception, which covered Almeida (opposite the village of that name
he disposed his centre), to beyond Nava d’Aver, his right being at
Fuentes de Oñoro. Poço Velho, between the latter place and Nava d’Aver,
was also occupied by the left wing of the 7th Division, commanded by
General Houstoun.
Masséna’s first movement was to attack the Spanish irregulars, under
Don Julian Sanchez, stationed on the hill of Nava d’Aver, which was
neither a lengthy nor a difficult process.
Major-General Houstoun scarcely fared better, two of his battalions
being routed. The immediate consequence was that Captain Norman
Ramsay’s battery of Horse Artillery, which were supporting Houstoun,
were soon fighting against fearful odds. By means of a magnificent
charge, while the attention of part of the French force was detracted
by the dragoons under Sir Stapleton Cotton, Ramsay made good his escape
with every gun.
The situation was extremely critical when the squares of the 7th and
Light Divisions were attacked by the enemy’s cavalry, but Wellington
did not hesitate for a moment as to the best course to pursue. He
abandoned Nava d’Aver and closed in his line by a complete change
of front, withdrawing some of his divisions to the heights, and
Houstoun’s men behind the Turones, to a position near Freneda, which
became the British right and Fuentes de Oñoro the left.
“Montbrun’s cavalry,” we are told, “merely hovered about Craufurd’s
squares, the plain was soon cleared, the cavalry took post behind the
centre, and the Light Division formed a reserve to the right of the 1st
Division, sending the riflemen among the rocks to connect it with the
7th Division, which had arrived at Freneda, and was there joined by
Julian Sanchez. At the sight of this new front, so deeply lined with
troops, the French stopped short, and commenced a heavy cannonade,
which did great execution, from the closeness of the allied masses;
but twelve British guns replied with vigour, and the violence of the
enemy’s fire abated; their cavalry then drew out of range, and a body
of French infantry, attempting to glide down the ravine of the Turones,
was repulsed by the riflemen and light companies of the Guards.”
Meanwhile a fierce conflict was taking place in the village of Fuentes.
It continued see-saw fashion until the evening, both sides bringing
up reserves and contesting every inch of the ground. Three regiments
were driven from the lower parts of the village, but reinforcements
were at hand, and the higher streets were never abandoned, although a
chapel held by the troops in that quarter was evacuated. At nightfall
the French crossed the river, leaving 400 of their dead in the village.
Wellington averred that the battle “was the most difficult I was ever
concerned in, and against the greatest odds. We had very nearly three
to one against us engaged; about four to one of cavalry; and, moreover,
our cavalry had not a gallop in them, while some of that of the enemy
was fresh, and in excellent order. If Bony had been there we should
have been beaten.”
As a battle the engagement scarcely could be called a victory for the
Allies, but Masséna had failed to relieve Almeida, while Wellington
had succeeded in covering its blockade. The total casualties of the
British, Spanish, and Portuguese on the 3rd and 5th reached 1800, of
the French nearly 3000, and 210 were taken prisoners. On the morning
of the 8th May the last of the enemy left the field, but three days
later the Commander-in-Chief received bad news. On the previous night
the garrison of Almeida blew up part of the fortress and escaped,
although the force sent by Wellington to blockade it was “four times
more numerous than the garrison.” He characterized it as “the most
disgraceful event that has yet occurred to us.” His correspondence at
this period teems with references to it.
Masséna was no longer “the favoured child of victory” or Napoleon’s
“right arm,” as the Emperor had called him, and he was recalled, to be
succeeded by Marmont, an excellent artillery officer then not quite
thirty-seven years of age, whereas Masséna was fifty-three and deemed
“too old” by his autocratic sovereign.
Marmont speedily came to the conclusion when he took up his new
post that without rest the so-called army of Portugal could not
possibly expect to meet Wellington with any likelihood of success.
He accordingly moved his troops to the province of Salamanca, where
we will leave them for a little while to watch the course of the war
elsewhere.
Beresford had now invested Badajoz, and engaged the enemy in several
sorties, on one occasion suffering severe loss owing to the imprudence
of his troops. Receiving news to the effect that Soult was rapidly
approaching with the determined object of relieving it, he raised the
siege and posted his army on the ridge of Albuera to stop the French
advance. The British Commander had nearly 32,000 men at his disposal.
Of these no fewer than 24,000 were foreigners, including the Spanish
forces of Blake, Castaños, Ballasteros, and Don Carlos d’España, which
had formed a junction with him. The enemy had 23,000 troops.
As Wellington was not present a detailed description of the battle,
which took place on the 16th May, does not come within the province
of this volume. It was one of the most fiercely contested of the
entire war. So much so that Beresford used up his entire reserves and
lost 4100 British troops, in addition to 1400 Portuguese and Spanish
killed and wounded. The French losses were over 6000, and 500 were
taken prisoners. Had it not been for Colonel Hardinge, Beresford would
have retreated. Following his colleague’s advice he remained and was
victorious. It was at Albuera that the 57th Foot (now the 1st Middlesex
Regiment) won the well-deserved name of “Die Hards” from the fact that
Colonel Inglis shouted to his troops, “Die hard, my men; die hard!”[66]
“It was observed,” writes Beresford to Wellington, “that our dead,
particularly the 57th regiment, were lying, as they had fought, in
ranks, and that every wound was in front.”
On the 19th Wellington, with two divisions, arrived at Elvas, and on
the 21st he rode to Albuera and surveyed the site of the contest. “The
fighting was desperate,” he writes, “and the loss of the British has
been very severe; but, adverting to the nature of the contest, and the
manner in which they held their ground against all the efforts the
whole French army could make against them, notwithstanding all the
losses which they had sustained, I think this action one of the most
glorious and honourable to the character of the troops of any that has
been fought during the war.”
Surely a more noble tribute to the “common” soldier was never penned!