General Leith, and the officers of his staff, being on horseback, first perceived the enemy, and had time to observe his formation, previous to the infantry line becoming so visible, as to induce him to commence firing. He was drawn up in contiguous squares, the front rank kneeling, and prepared to fire when the drum beat for its commencement.
The Light companies pressed closer and closer ‘To within a few yards of their lines’ says Douglas, 1st/3rd. The Royal Scots were towards the right of the line. He was impressed by the Portuguese, who advanced crying out ‘Fogo ma felias’ or ‘Away my sons.’ He went on:
At this moment a French officer mounted on a white horse seemed to be very busy endeavouring to keep his men to their work, when a Corporal of the name of Joffrey and I got leave to try if he was ball proof; and running out a few yards in front kneeled down and fired together, but which of us struck him must still remain a mystery, but down he went. Poor Joffrey, while in the act of rising off his knee, received a ball in the breast which numbered him with the dead also.
It is thought Maucune had deployed in two regimental lines of columns: the three battalions of the 15th Ligne left and the two battalions of the 82nd Ligne right; in second line were two battalions 66th Ligne left and two of the 86th Ligne right i.e. five battalions up front and four in support. Accounts vary in the description of the formation, with phrases including ‘Contiguous squares’, ‘square’, ‘columns and squares’, ‘solid columns’, ‘parts of squares and parts of lines’ and ‘ill-arranged column(s)’.
The French fired first, but were as promptly hit by a far greater weight of lead from Greville’s Brigade. Leith Hay:
All was still and quiet in these squares; not a musket was discharged until the whole opened. Nearly at the same moment General Leith ordered the line to fire, and charge: the roll of musketry was succeeded by that proud cheer that has become habitual to British soldiers on similar occasions – that to an enemy a tremendous sound, which may without exaggeration be termed the note of victory. At this moment, the last thing I saw through the smoke was the plunge of Colonel Greville’s horse, who, shot through the head, reared, and fell back on his rider. In an instant every individual present was enveloped in smoke and obscurity.
John Douglas takes up the story:
Our murderous fire opened, which swept all before it. Their first line we fairly ran over, and saw our men jumping over huge grenadiers, who lay down exhausted through heat and fatigue, unhurt, in the hope of escaping. Of course we left them uninjured, but they did not behave honourably, for as soon as they found us at a little distance they resumed the posture of the enemy and commenced to fire on our rear; but nearly the whole of them paid the price of their treachery with their lives.
The first line of the enemy being broken and falling back in confusion, the second lined the side of a deep trench cut by the torrents of water which roll down from the hills near the village of Arapiles, and so deep and broad that it took a good spring to leap over it. Here the second line kept up a heavy fire of musketry, which checked our centre for a few minutes, while our poor fellows fell fast. To remain long in this way was too much to be borne. The cheer was raised for the charge, a general bound was made at the chasm, and over we went like so many beagles, while the enemy gave way in confusion.
Sergeant James Hale, 1st/9th, was in the left flank battalion of the first line, which being wider than Maucune’s, the Norfolks to a degree were lapping around the French right, to the obvious disadvantage of the 82nd Ligne: ‘We showed them the point of the bayonet, and gave them a grand charge, by which we obliged them to leave three pieces of cannon in our possession in a short time: this part of the enemy’s line continued retreating for some considerable distance, and we continued firing advancing.’
There is now a converging of blue on blue, red on red, as from the west the shattered remnants of Thomières 101st and 62nd Ligne attempted to move back while rallying behind his 1st Ligne, with Wallace’s Brigade pushing along the ridge. Suddenly, Wallace’s men were warned to prepare to form square! Grattan was with the centre battalion:
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 tramping of horses was heard, the smoke cleared away, and the heavy brigade of Le Marchant 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. 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.
Grattan suggests ‘Some men of the 5th’ were now very close, (presumably their light troops) the cavalry moving forward through Wallace’s ranks. Certainly John Douglas noted them on his right: ‘The 1st Royal Dragoons, the 5th Green Horse (5th Dragoon Guards) and a Regiment of Heavy Germans advanced with us on our right. Some of the Greens sung out “Now boys, lather them, and we’ll shave them”.’ These early sightings of Cotton’s cavalry will lead us into the next chapter. But first we should consider the butcher’s bill for Leith’s work. Maucune’s casualty figures, of course, are rather irrelevant at this stage, since Le Marchant’s dragoons are about to make them much, much worse.
Whilst as we have seen there is no certainty quite how Maucune’s battalions were formed and, therefore, we cannot calculate the frontage upon which he stood, Leith’s casualty figures (like Wallace’s) indicate the British line overlapped the French front, and would therefore tend to bend into a crescent. This explains the lighter losses in Greville’s brigade by the 1st/4th (four per cent) and 1st/9th (seven per cent) on the right and left flanks, and the heavier losses in the centre by the 3rd/1st (twenty-one per cent), 1st/38th (eighteen per cent) and 2nd/38th (seventeen per cent). In fact, there is greater disparity here than in Wallace’s (who averaged eleven per cent on the flanks to twenty per cent in the centre of the line). As to the Royal Scots’ twenty-one per cent losses, John Douglas’s reference to the ditch behind which the French second line were located and which ‘Checked our centre for a few minutes, while our poor fellows fell fast,’ is perhaps reason enough; although some say they also suffered losses earlier in the day, when Wellington chose them to tempt a French attack.
Greville’s Brigade’s casualties totalled 400 with fifty-one killed (two officers) and 349 wounded (twenty-three officers). Pringle, on the other hand, was but a quarter of that, at 105 all ranks with eleven killed (two officers) and ninety-four wounded (again just two officers). Pringle’s overall casualty rate was five per cent, compared with 15.9 per cent for Greville’s. One can but speculate, therefore, at the extent to which Pringle’s Brigade was properly involved in Leith’s attack. That is, actually fighting, other than providing the necessary second line. To lose but four officers out of 103 officers surely, in the Peninsular context, indicates minimal engagement, with losses mostly attributable therefore to gunfire both whilst waiting to attack and during the approach march. There were reported to be at least four batteries in position on Maucune’s right.
The same remarks apply to Spry’s Portuguese, on Pringle’s left (their casualty rate was a similar 5.3 per cent) a total of 123 all ranks with a mere seven officer casualties out of 156 officers. It is possible therefore the 2nd King’s Own, the 2nd Cambridgeshires, the 2nd Essex an
d the Portuguese took little active part in Leith’s attack. Which, therefore, is at odds with the regimental histories of the 30th and 44th by Bannatyne and Carter respectively, who both have Greville’s and Pringle’s positions reversed. That is, that Pringle was the first-line brigade. The eyewitness accounts quoted and the above casualty figures make this assertion untenable. It does not, of course, deny the splendid capture of an Eagle by Lieutenant Pearce, 44th, which we will describe in all its glory in later pages.
As to Leith’s overall divisional losses, because the casualties amongst his two companies of Brunswickers are not known, we can only estimate a total of 640-660 all ranks, out of 6,691 men – say nine per cent overall. These are modest, but sadly they included himself and two ADCs – Leith Hay and William Dowson. We have noted before the custom, in the Peninsula, for senior officers to lead from the front, and whilst no doubt it did much for the men’s morale to see Lieutenant General Sir James Leith and six of his operational staff some ten or twenty yards in front of their own Colonel and their own Colours, it brought equal joy to numerous French gun captains peering greedily down their sights. Their presence alone guaranteed the poor old 38th, especially Nos 3, 4 and 5 Companies, caught it in the neck. But it was a small matter of honour, and Leith could do no other. He received a ‘most severe contusion on the breast, and his left arm broken’ from a musket ball. His nephew had two horses killed under him, the ball in the second instance perforating his calf muscle. Dowson, the extra ADC, suffered a mangled foot and died two years later. Colonel Greville, 38th, had his dead horse fall on him but was not himself wounded. The commanding officer of the 3rd/1st was killed and Colonel Miles of the 38th severely wounded.
It is plain from all this that the forty-year old General Antoine-Louis Popon, Baron de Maucune, twenty-six years a soldier and a much wounded veteran of many battles – most recently at Busaco and Fuentes – did nothing this day to add to his reputation. He and his men have yet to be hit by the tempest of rampaging dragoons, but his infantry defeat deserves comment. Of course Leith had more men – we have taken Oman’s 6,691 all ranks, to Maucune’s 5,079 – which superiority of 1,612 men could be described as another three battalions, or an advantage of a third. But that fails to acknowledge that Pringle and Spry were scarcely involved. If we are being fair in this view, it means 5,079 Frenchmen in nine battalions, at the top of a slight hill, in the dead ground behind the false crest, with between four and six batteries in support, were bested by 2,600 British in five battalions fronted by say 1,000 light troops. How could that be? Was not Maucune advantageously in the classic Wellington defensive posture? Who can doubt our ‘Atty would have merely reprised, say, Vimiero? Wherein lay Maucune’s problem? Of course we know now it was to be the cavalry that turned defeat into rout, but it is a puzzle to understand the prior infantry defeat. Pakenham’s business with Thomières off to their left was certainly audible, and possibly some early ‘runners’ could have passed through, spreading alarm and despondency. But while good soldiers look to their front when cowards pass by in rear, an element of uncertainty would inevitably be introduced; still more the sight and sound of 1,500 horse off to the left front; still more uncertainty at their commander’s response. It is surely certain Maucune’s battalions were not at any time in square prior to Cotton’s initial forward movement. The lengthy light troop bickering, if anything, would indicate the approaching need for line; unless, that is, Maucune had decided he was going to meet Leith’s line by a downhill charge in column. Whatever, line or column, his battalions were probably caught by Leith in a last minute process of change, towards squares. While Leith Hay saw some squares – presumably on the French left – with ‘the front rank kneeling and prepared to fire when the drum beat’, Maucune’s second line of the 66th and 86th may well still have been in column. We know John Douglas heard an exchange of words with the 5th Dragoon Guards before Greville’s Brigade made final contact. He states, ‘The French seemed to be taken by surprise as ... [British cavalry] advanced with us on our right . . . The enemy seemed to be rather in confusion . . . The cavalry was to them a puzzle. [They] seemed to have formed parts of squares, and parts of lines.’ Into such unfinished chaos Leith unleashed his volley. Let us not forget he presented some 2,500 muskets, not counting light troops. This was infinitely more than Maucune’s men could bring to bear. The French fired first, but Leith’s volley must have come as a massive hammer blow and immediately, whilst reeling and looking about to see who still stood, individual Frenchmen would hear the British raise their cheer from behind the bank of smoke, emerging with bayonets down, a red crescent all across their front.
At this stage Maucune’s second line should have been the rock behind which the 15th and 82nd Ligne could shelter, or else provide the counter-attack to catch the British at their most disordered. Throughout history, the prime requirement for any counter-attack has been to provide an immediate reaction. The Guards and KGL at Talavera broke and chased four of Sebastiani’s regiments, only in turn to be routed back by his second line. As Leith Hay said after that battle, ‘Who has ever seen an unbroken line preserved in following up a successful bayonet charge?’ Half the men are invariably busy looting through French knapsacks. But Maucune’s second line also crumbled, and we can be sure that was due to the utter confusion and panic caused both by Thomières’s men coming back from the left, and Le Marchant’s horses now pounding up through the smoke from their left front. So let us hop into a saddle and join the dragoons.
CHAPTER 11
Salamanca The Cavalry Charges
The historian who approaches this chapter without trepidation was either present at the battle in a helicopter, or is an arrogant fellow without shame. The difficulties of arranging people in their proper place and time daunt casual interpretations. Your present author claims no certainty for his version of events. We can but hope that one day more diaries (preferably in French) will be discovered which confirm our deductions. To say that multiple scenarios exist understates the position. What follows is one understanding, and we shall try to resist the temptation to set out others, which, ultimately, will only confuse and mar a very fine tale.
Firstly, however, it is well to remind ourselves that this equestrian chapter of the story took place – literally – alongside what is not yet touched on: the unsuccessful actions on the left of the 5th Division by the 4th Division and others. We will turn to them in due course, but do bear in mind that to our left some 8,000 Allied troops under Cole and Pack had been launched against some 13,000 men in two French divisions under Clausel and Bonnet. It was not going well, as we shall see. Somewhere behind Clausel and Bonnet were Boyer’s 1,700 dragoons, and behind them in the woods of the Sierra, Ferey’s 3rd Division of 5,700 men. And coming up fast behind Maucune’s now broken – but not defeated – 5,200 men, were the 6th Division under Taupin, with another 4,500, not to mention (somewhere) Curto’s 1,900 chasseurs. So there were many formed French bodies whose location Lord Wellington could not possibly know and take into account. However, one essential of any successful attack is the provision of adequate reserves to allow for the unexpected. In this regard when he launched the cavalry he had Clinton’s 6th Division behind Arapiles village, and Hope’s 7th and Bradford’s Portuguese to their right (all totalling nearly 13,000 men), with the unengaged 1st and Light Divisions up above the Lesser Arapile. It was a masterly set of dispositions, setting prudence behind audacity.
Immediately he received orders from his Lordship, Major General John Gaspard Le Marchant sent a small mounted party forward, under Lieutenant Colonel Charles Dalbiac (second Lieutenant Colonel of the 4th Dragoons, who were commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Lord Edward Somerset), and Lieutenant William Light, to check the Heavy Brigade’s route to the attack on the plateau, posting vedettes at any difficult places. Le Marchant having formed his three regiments, the lines dismounted whilst waiting what would be a long hour before the next order came. He had eight squadrons (Major Onslow’s of the 4th Dragoons had been deta
ched around midday). Dalbiac put the strength at 750, but that probably excluded officers, orderlies, farriers etc. Taking the 15 July States, which is all we can go on, and allowing for Onslow’s absence, Le Marchant’s first line was of six squadrons (he had a squadron each from the 3rd Dragoons and 5th Dragoon Guards in rear in support) and would have comprised 650 sabres, with another 200 in support. Those 650 were in two lines, so each squadron would have drawn up a little in excess of fifty men wide. Allowing two paces per horse that is a line of 600 yards; if closed stirrup to stirrup, half that. The 5th Dragoon Guards (Douglas’s ‘Green Horse’) were almost certainly on the left of the line.
Wellington’s order to move was eventually sent, quite properly, to Sir Stapleton Cotton, as commander of the cavalry. The axis for Le Marchant ran obliquely south-east into the gap which at that stage still existed, between the 3rd Division on the right, and Maucune’s as-yet unengaged Division, in front of Leith. The latter was well on his way. His Lordship’s timing was exactly right.
It is said Dalbiac had found a route offering partial concealment. The country was, of course, entirely open, but in the nature of convex slopes, however mild, lines of observation for those above cannot always fully cover those below. Cotton was probably in rear of the dragoons, and possibly with George Anson’s 11th and 16th Light Dragoons behind him in their turn. Le Marchant’s orders were to charge at all hazards, at the first favourable opportunity following release by the Peer, and judging that moment was clearly to be his make-or-break decision. Or was it Cotton’s? Go too soon, or go too late, would not do. Right now the French on his right shoulder were trickling back in increasing numbers from Pakenham’s men. They were making their way along the ridge to Thomières’ 1st Ligne, three battalions formed in good order across the Monte de Azan, some 1,700 men. Wallace’s Brigade was pushing forward, on to Grattan’s ‘open plain intersected with cork trees, opposed by a multitude who again rallied’. Pakenham’s second line battalions had not kept up with the thrusting 88th, there having been the small matter of the 5th’s temporary reverse; and Wallace was concerned by ‘the attitude of the French cavalry to our front and to our right flank’. Therefore, while waiting for the other six regiments to close, he was busy ensuring the men could form square without confusion.
Salamanca 1812- Wellington’s Year of Victories Page 32