Salamanca 1812- Wellington’s Year of Victories

by Peter Edwards

  So Bonnet, Clausel and Boyer all seized their opportunities and delivered a nasty fright to Cole and Pack. Doubtless his Lordship was unperturbed by their bloody noses, with Clinton to hand and Hope’s 5,000 in the wings; but the French had shown again their aggressive spirit, and a typically robust attitude. Neither French division was broken. Their losses were severe, but if they could draw away, they would undoubtedly be able to reform and fight again, with three quarters of their own strength retained. French honour was largely restored. British honour, however, was now about to be tested again, with Cole and Clinton faced with yet another French division on a hill, fresh and ready.

  It is not the time to list British casualties, for there are many more to come.

  CHAPTER 13

  Salamanca Ferey’s Rearguard

  Poor Bertrand Clausel, ten years a general but never before an army commander; yet he knew enough to prepare for retreat. What a deep end to be plunged into, and with a wounded foot to boot. Of Marmont’s eight infantry divisions, three now remained to him, formed and intact: Foy, Ferey and Sarrut. He had perhaps an hour’s daylight left in which to reach the woods behind him, and the seven mile road to the bridge at Alba de Tormes. That lay to the south-east. The alternative road to the fords at Huerta and Encinas, to the north-east, meant leaving the woods and somehow edging past Wellington’s Light Division. So once it was apparent his own and Bonnet’s divisions could achieve no more – it would be around 7pm – he ordered Foy to quit Calvarrasa de Ariba. He was to close in to the northerly flank of the broken divisions, fending off the Light Division who were sure to follow, and eventually to become the Army’s rearguard. At this stage Sarrut and Ferey were behind the defeated divisions, the former on the left, the centre of a retreating resistance; the latter now ordered to hold the El Sierro ridge. Behind that lay the woods, darkness and a two hour march to the Tormes bridge. It was imperative that Sarrut, Ferey and Foy held a perimeter behind which the scattered remains of the Army of Portugal could regain some cohesion as they force-marched to relative safety.

  In front of the woods a ridge ran across the Alba road, lying north-east to south-west. It was slightly higher at its peak than the Greater Arapile itself, and the approach slopes were quite open and in places the ridge rose steeply, with excellent fields of fire. Ferey had fifteen guns. He was to sit on the ridge, to block access to the Alba road and this he did in a long three-rank line with all his nine battalions, the flank battalions being in square. He kept no second line or support. With light companies forward, his 5,000 bayonets stretched nearly a mile, and somewhere to his left lay Sarrut, presumably trying to tie in; somewhere also to the left lay Taupin’s 17th Léger and 65th Ligne, five battalions no doubt harbouring the few strays of their dismembered 22nd Ligne. However, it has been argued that the 17th were but lightly engaged this day and probably ran, while from their casualties the 65th took a much fuller part in the fighting withdrawal. Norcliffe Norcliffe, it will be recalled, was well treated by the 65th, then in column at the edge of the woods before it was attacked by the 32nd, so Ferey was not alone.

  Sarrut earlier advanced onto the Monte de Azan with the six battalions of the 2nd Léger and 36th Ligne deployed in line – possibly 1,000 yards from end to end – with the three battalions of the 4th Léger in column towards the left as a cavalry screen. But we have no anecdotal evidence of their involvement in the fighting, and judging by the casualty figures for the day it was minimal: 384 all told or eight per cent. This is scarcely forty men per battalion, or less than half a company’s worth. Sarrut seems to have got his men away scot-free, an almost shamingly light butcher’s bill, and one wonders if questions were later asked by his fellow divisional commanders – those who survived intact. But it may be that Sarrut’s very presence in front of the 3rd and 5th Divisions, for a while, was enough. Pakenham’s men had marched a good fifteen miles from the other side of the Tormes in great heat, dust and at times in great haste. They were tired. They were also busy rounding up prisoners, by now a couple of thousand or so, the escort parties for which much weakened the ranks – even if the contents of French knapsacks much strengthened the inner man. So the 3rd Division would not have pressed Sarrut’s line too fiercely, and were doubtless looking for help from the 5th on their left. Wellington’s orders for the attack now imminent made plain that, to the front, it was to be the job of the 6th Division ‘supported by the 3rd and the 5th’. After that order was sent to Edward Pakenham and Leith’s successor, Major General William Pringle, they would relax the harassment of Sarrut, who may well then have pulled back behind Ferey’s left wing. But we can only conjecture.

  Across to the right, Clausel and Bonnet’s reversal meant Colonel Bouthmy and his 120th Ligne on the Great Arapile were exposed and doing no good. Clinton’s 6th Division passed them on their left, and some forward movement menaced their right. This was the arrival of Sir Henry Campbell’s 1st Division, ordered by his Lordship to get between Foy at the Chapel and the French main body. He knew Foy held the key to any successful withdrawal. But Campbell’s Division, which (said by Tomkinson), ‘seemed as peaceably inclined as the enemy’s right’, advanced in too leisurely a fashion to cut off Foy. The light companies of the KGL in Lowe’s brigade – 200 men at most – were in the circumstances enough to persuade Bouthmy to quit, although he was unable to extricate his guns.

  Clausel and Bonnet having removed themselves, Clinton’s 6th Division on moving up the slopes to the south came upon the horizon-length line of Ferey’s Division, guns in the intervals, and at that sight they halted – or were halted by Lord Wellington, who had need to arrange matters for the best. They stood in plain range of the guns and suffered accordingly. Major Newman, 11th, (Hulse’s Brigade):

  During this time their artillery played incessantly on us with shot and shell by which I lost about forty men; and the loss increased so fast by their getting the range, that I told Hulse something should be done, either in retiring or by the line lying down. The latter he agreed to, and we hardly had a casualty after.

  Cole’s Fusilier Brigade came up to extend Clinton’s line to the left, with his Portuguese (Stubbs) and William Anson’s 3rd/27th and 1st/40th directed to turn Ferey’s right. In this they were to be supported by the 1st Division’s battery of five 9-pounders under Major Gardiner (and presumably Clinton’s own five 6-pounders under Captain Greene) all to get into an enfilade position from the north-east. As we have seen, the 3rd and 5th Divisions were to support the 6th, that is in rear. We cannot be sure of the time when Clinton was ordered forward (Ross-Lewin, 32nd says 7.30pm) but the sun was setting behind the Monte de Azan. Clinton’s three brigades were all in line, Hulse left, Hinde right, Rezende’s Portuguese between. The following account rather implies Cole’s 4th Division was not to Hulse’s left, but in rear. Major Newman gives a clear picture, and again we must note the Portuguese seem in need of help.

  The next advance of the 6th Division was to the attack of the French position. As soon as the French saw this, a cloud of their skirmishers came down to the foot of the hills forming their position, and as we neared them opened their fire, supported with terrible effect by their artillery with grape; however, the brigade kept moving on, and in spite of every obstacle carried the position. Not a shot was fired by the 11th until we reached the top, when we gave them a farewell discharge. By this time the loss of the 61st and 11th was most severe: the Portuguese brigade in attacking their portion of the position found the ground steeper and more difficult of access, which enabled the enemy to retain that part, and eventually the French came down and attacked them in turn. I saw this and proposed to Hulse to wheel up the 11th to their right and attack them in flank, but for the present he declined, thinking we were too much reduced. After a while poor Bradford, the assistance adjutant-general, came up, and instantly went to the rear and brought up our support a brigade of the 4th Division which had been reformed; the 61st and 11th then changed their front to the right, and attacked this hill and carried it. This was
the last of the engagement, and at this period the 61st and 11th had about five officers and eighty men each left.

  (Note there is no mention in this or any account of the 2nd/53rd being in its proper place between the 1st/11th and the 1st/61st, which absence confirms its earlier drubbing.)

  It sounds as if, unfortunately, the Portuguese struck the centre of Ferey’s line, placed on the most commanding height with corresponding difficulties for them. The decision by Clinton to support them by a flank attack by the 11th and 61st, once the Fusiliers had come up as stated by Newman, is effectively confirmed by the 61st’s Digest of Service. Note that the French battalions concerned changed from line to column:

  The Major General finding that the brigade was losing many men from the fire of the enemy called the COs of the Regiments to him to intimate his intention of attacking the hill in front . . . [and told] them to make the same known to their respective corps. The communication was received by the two corps with an instantaneous shout of ‘Yes, we will!’ and three cheers. This was followed by an immediate advance unchecked by the destructive fire from the French artillery and numerous sharpshooters. The movement was performed by the Regiments with sloped arms, by order, until the hill was crossed.

  On the arrival of the brigade at the summit of the hill, the enemy again formed their troops into column and faced a proportion of their files outward to receive the attack of the 11th and 61st who threatened their flank. The two Regiments formed to the right, on the right file of the 11th and then opened their fire upon the column . . . and soon compelled it to retire.

  Over the other side of the Portuguese, Hinde’s Brigade also had a hard fight. Captain Harry Ross-Lewin, 32nd:

  It was half-past seven when the sixth division, under General Clinton, was ordered to advance a second time and attack the enemy’s line in front, supported by the third and fifth divisions. The ground over which we had to pass was a remarkably clear slope, like the glacis of a fortification – most favourable for the defensive fire of the enemy, and disadvantageous to the assailants, but the division advanced towards the position with perfect steadiness and confidence. A craggy ridge, on which the French infantry was drawn up, rose so abruptly that they could fire four or five deep; but we had approached within two hundred yards of them before the fire of musketry began, which was by far the heaviest that I have ever witnessed, and was accompanied by constant discharges of grape. An uninterrupted blaze was then maintained, so that the crest of the hill seemed to be one long streak of flame. Our men came down to the charging position, and commenced firing from that level, at the same time keeping their touch to the right, so that the gaps opened by the enemy’s fire were instantly filled up. At the very first volley that we received, about eighty men of the right wing of my regiment fell to the rear in one group; the commanding officer immediately rode up to know the cause, and found that they were all wounded.

  Previously to the advance of the sixth division, the light companies of the right brigade were formed on the right of the line, and, as we moved on, one of the enemy’s howitzers was captured by the light company of the 32nd regiment. It had been discharged once, but before the gunners could load it again, it was taken by a rush.

  We may note that the above account of the 32nd’s attack on the right makes no mention (not surprisingly) of the rescue of the Dragoon officer Lieutenant Norcliffe Norcliffe, from Taupin’s 65th; nor indeed mention of that regiment, nor of British cavalry besetting them. However, there is a French account which does categorically state that the reason Ferey’s line disintegrated from the left was that the 70th Ligne was turned by cavalry. An officer of Ferey’s 31st Léger, Captain Lemonnier-Delafosse, wrote in his memoires:

  The cruel fire cost us many lives. Then, slowly, having gained almost an hour’s respite for the army, we retired, still protected by the squares, to the edge of the wood which stretched away to Alba de Tormes. Here Ferey halted his half-destroyed division, and formed in line it still presented a respectable front to the enemy. Here he made his stand despite the enfilading fire of the English batteries; here he found the death most desired by a soldier, that caused by a cannon-ball.

  The 3rd Division thus formed on the edge of the wood, deprived of its artillery, saw the enemy advance on it in two lines, the fire composed of the Portuguese, the second of the English. Left alone to fight, its position was critical, but it awaited the shock. The two lines marched on the division; their order was so regular that we could see the officers in the Portuguese lines maintain company intervals by striking their men with their swords or canes.

  We opened fire on the enemy as soon as they came within range, and the fire of our front two ranks was so effective that it halted their advance, and although they tried to return our fire, they melted away completely – but they were Portuguese. The second line, composed of English soldiers, now advanced upon us; we should have tried to receive it like the first, without yielding an inch, despite the fire of the enemy’s batteries, but a sudden blow on our left was too much. The 70th Ligne was turned and broken by cavalry and their flight carried away the 26th and 77th [sic – 47th] regiments. My own 31st Léger, although only two battalions strong, held firm and halted the enemy who continued to fire until we finally retired a few hundred yards into the wood.

  The accounts above by Newman of the 11th, and the 61st’s Digest, concur that they both changed front to the right, to attack the flank of the French on the ridge and who had just repelled the Portuguese. In this sense, one could argue that there were two phases to Clinton’s attack, certainly when looked at from the French point of view. What is common to British and French accounts is a failure of the Portuguese; we must remain unsure, however, whether Ferey made a last stand on the tree line, behind the ridge. Newman firmly states that once the hill was carried ‘this was the last of the engagement’; but a fallback would certainly be in the spirit of his orders. He had clearly gained time for the Army of Portugal to make best speed for the Tormes.

  What does emerge in accounts generally is some unhappiness with the way the 6th Division’s attack on Ferey was conducted, specifically their being held static, under gunfire, and allowed/ordered to engage in volley firing. This episode was variously located as ‘when advanced about halfway’ (Leith Hay) and ‘deployed at the bottom of a hill’ (Royal Military Panorama, December 1812). Wherever, since both refer to the subsequent firing of regular volleys, it could not have been more than 100 paces from Ferey’s line. Yet, as we saw earlier, various accounts gave the length of the halt between ‘a long time’ (Napier), ‘for nearly three quarters of an hour’ (61st Digest) and ‘about an hour and a half’ (Thomas Hamilton). Surely not, when volleying 100 paces away? So there must have been two such halts: first and for the longest, at a distance and under gunfire, probably while his Lordship co-ordinated his plan; second at 100 yards or less when the fire fight continued, volley against volley.

  Now this, of course, was against Peninsular practice. Leith Hay spoke for all when he wrote after the war:

  It was owing to the 6th Division halting and firing at the enemy that our loss was so great. Those Divisions who rushed upon the enemy without hesitation not only did not lose nearly so many men, but did the business much better, and nowhere did the French columns stand for an instant when fairly attacked with the bayonet.

  Or as he put it in his book: ‘The only way is to get at them at once with the bayonet, that they can never stand, but as to firing they would do that as long as you like, and fire much better than we do.’ That this view was widely held resulted from innumerable occasions in the Peninsula when we know the volley-cheer-charge progression was more than adequate to do the business, as Leith Hay put it. The Panorama of December 1812 wrote ‘The 6th Division ... deployed at the bottom of a hill, of easy ascent, and then began to fire regular volleys. In consequence, they suffered very severely, for the French, it is well known, will exchange shots with you as much as you please.’

  Which practice by eight battalio
ns in line could only have been ordered by Clinton, and may well account for later criticism in letters, like George Bingham’s, that Clinton’s ‘conduct on the day of the action was such as does not add to his popularity’. We may suppose the previous year’s lessons learnt on Albuera’s ‘fatal hill’ had been widely talked of and absorbed. Salamanca was the next such set-piece battle to follow and neither Pakenham’s 3rd Division nor Leith’s 5th had indulged in continuous volley firing; Cole’s 4th (all of whose five British battalions had been present at Albuera) when invited to so indulge knew better than to accept. They turned and ran.

  The argument that Sir Henry Clinton had nothing to do with it but rather that eight battalions simultaneously faltered and stopped at volley range does seem unlikely. Tired they were, and thinned by the earlier pause within cannon range, and undoubtedly Ferey’s men above them would be a novel sight to all: Frenchmen in a three-deep line! Yes, there would be three volleys coming down the slope from ready primed muskets, fired as quickly as they like. But after that it was up to the rear rank loaders. People like Leith Hay would have taken their companies forward through the three volleys taking the losses, halted, fired, cheered and charged.