Can No One Win Battles if I'm Not There

by Geoffrey Watson

  Allied casualties were less than a hundred, but it was months later that it was learned that less than six hundred French had managed to return to their own forces. It was a relatively small engagement, but almost an entire French division had been destroyed.

  General Hill took his army back to Portalegre with all his prisoners and waited placidly to see what d’Erlon would do next.

  CHAPTER 21

  It was becoming increasingly irritating when MacKay considered that the French appeared to be going out of their way to thwart all his plans. It would have been more acceptable if he could convince himself that they had somehow guessed what he expected of them and made a conscious decision to do otherwise.

  Not at all. As far as he could make out, their intransigence was entirely accidental and caused more by inertia than any deceitful intent. Their lack of energy was so unlike a French army that he began to wonder whether they had any hostile intent, or were merely posturing in the fond hope that the Spanish troops would go away back to their mountains.

  To start with, the hussars did not come near until early in the evening and then contented themselves with observing the Spanish defences from high ground over half a mile away. It was far too great a distance, even for the rifles of the Vespãos and the two small three-pounder guns that the Spaniards had emplaced disdained to waste gunpowder in the attempt.

  After half an hour, the hussars withdrew and Gonçalves sent out a platoon that shadowed them back to their infantry. They too had camped nearly ten miles away, showing little obvious interest in trying to join up with troops from León.

  Perhaps it was only MacKay’s timing that was in error as the following morning, his scouting platoon came back to report that the enemy had broken camp before dawn and were moving in his direction, both infantry and cavalry. Could it be that the Benavente detachment regarded the bridge at La Bañeza as the southern flank of the Spanish army and was about to attack? Had they agreed with their friends in León that today was to be the day for their joint attack?

  The hussars appeared very quickly and swept past imperiously, travelling north on the far bank of the river. It looked as though they were going to carry the tidings to León and MacKay breathed a sigh of relief. They were a day late, but were now doing what he had hoped for.

  He asked Quintana to sent couriers to General Santocildes to warn him of a likely assault from León and to assure him that, one way or another, any southern attack would be contained.

  His scouts came in to tell him that half the French had forded the river and were approaching the town along both banks of the summer-shallow stream. It didn’t matter, as the Spaniards had anticipated this and had improvised defences to allow most of their men to fire from behind cover.

  The only thing that these young, inexperienced, conscript soldiers had to worry about in their first action was the swarm of tirailleurs and voltigeurs that would be sent out in front of the massed infantry attack. Gonçalves took care of that by spreading out all his men along the line, with orders to deal with the skirmishers and then pick off officers and sergeants from the main attack.

  It would surely have been more satisfactory to describe it as a serious engagement. Possibly, if the Vespãos had not been there, the French might have lost fewer men, but the Spanish defences were so strong that steady firing from the Spanish recruits; particularly those that had received musket training from the Hornets; was sufficient in itself to send the French packing.

  The first stage was hardly a contest. The French skirmishers were engaged by Gonçalves’ rifles at three hundred yards, or three times the range of any of their muskets. They started out in good order, upright, full of confidence, expecting to trot forward and look for cover within a hundred yards of the Spanish defences.

  While they were trotting gently forward, the first volley from the Vespãos laid a third of them in the dirt and sent the rest of them diving to join them. Some of them fired their muskets to try and distract the deadly Portuguese marksmen, knowing as they did so how futile a gesture it was. Nevertheless, it gave them courage of a sort, to continue to scramble forward and provide targets for the Vespãos to practice upon.

  The French heavy infantry was not prepared for this. Events were moving at a speed that they were, quite simply, unaccustomed to see. Masses of infantry were cumbersome bodies of men, that had to be manoeuvred into position at the pace of the slowest soldier. The skirmishers on whom they were relying to spread terror while they took the time to deploy into line, were already running away or lying deathly still, hoping not to be noticed.

  Denied the time they needed to form line, their commanders kept them in column order, one column on each bank of the river.

  The Hornets kept themselves in practice for a few minutes, by shooting individual officers, sergeants, or anyone who had the temerity to be carrying regimental colours.

  Then the heads of the columns were close enough for the Spaniards to join in and they poured volley after volley into the heads of each column, eroding them away until they turned and ran.

  MacKay sought out the colonel in command and also Quintana. “The French have nowhere to go, Señores. My Avispónes are now occupying Benavente and I am sure that General Santocildes shall wish you to pursue the enemy relentlessly.

  You do not need me here any more and I intend to take the Vespãos to assist the general, in the unlikely event that he shall need our support. I am sure that you could have seen off these fellows here without the mainly moral support that we have given.”

  Quintana absorbed the news with something like dismay, when he realised that he would no longer have the support of the Hornets. His mood did not last long. He had a retreating enemy to harass. MacKay left the two colonels planning the pursuit of the enemy and the occupation of Benavente, now that MacKay had sent for A Company to follow him north.

  * * *

  General Santocildes welcomed them back with open arms. His scouting cavalry, under the direction of Captain Burfoot, had just reported that up to two thousand of the enemy were within two miles of the Órbigo.

  The Spanish horsemen had retired to the flanks and Burfoot had spread his Avispónes along the line of defences, with the object of neutralising the skirmishers, who would undoubtedly attack first.

  It was a much longer front than at La Bañeza, but the two Spanish companies; whose marksmanship had been receiving the close attention of the Hornets; were spread out with them and in a state of confident excitement as they waited to try out their new skills in earnest.

  The news that MacKay brought of the French retreat from Benavente and the pursuit and harassment of the retreating enemy had Santocildes almost dancing a jig. “Your raw conscripts performed like veterans, Señor General. Persuading your commanders to conduct a disciplined pursuit shall confirm them as veterans and ought to bring in hundreds of prisoners.

  If today’s engagement here is as successful, I ask you to remember that the survivors from Benavente shall need to seek sanctuary at León. It may be possible for you to drive straight across to the River Esla and cut off their retreat. The more prisoners you take, the more reinforcements they have to find. There has to be a limit eventually to the numbers that they can bring to Spain.”

  “It shall be done, General MacKay. I should never hold my head up again if we get beat today by a quarter of our number. Shall you commit your Portuguese to our cause?”

  “No Señor. You have my Spanish company of Avispónes and I know you wish this to be a victory for Spanish arms. I shall hold my Vespãos here in reserve in case the French produce any unpleasant surprises.

  Hopefully, A Company shall be here before the fight is over and, if you so desire, we can lead your reserves to the Esla and round up the Benavente garrison.”

  “With my blessing, General MacKay. For now, I do believe I hear the French light infantry bugles. All my orders are given and we may watch how my novices fare.”

  * * *

  Although the Spanish army stood beh
ind the defences that it had constructed, it made little attempt to conceal the brightly coloured uniforms lined up in reserve, or the red and gold Spanish colours carried by the different regiments.

  As soon as the French columns came into sight, they were able to assess much of the problem that they had to face. As a result, drum beats and bugle calls sent the skirmishers swarming out along the banks of the river.

  There, they went to ground and waited for orders. The heavy infantry was not yet in sight and the general in command would want to direct them towards the weakest point that he could detect.

  A small group of officers trotted into view and halted to use their spyglasses. They were four hundred yards from the river and in no danger from anything except perhaps one of the small three-pounders that the Spaniards had emplaced at intervals.

  The Baker rifles of the Portuguese might have reached them, but the Spanish F Company had only Roberto’s carbines and even the new cartridges were only reliable up to half the distance. In any case, for reasons beyond MacKay’s comprehension, it was considered bad form, deliberately to shoot at general officers.

  Santocildes waited patiently to see how the attack developed after the heavy infantry arrived. With less than two thousand men, the French were almost forced into an attack in column at an enemy that had been ‘softened up’ by the skirmishers. They may have realised by now that the Spanish who were facing them had greater numbers, but probably not that they were greatly outmatched.

  In any case, the Spanish line was spread out over two or three miles and any French column was almost assured of superiority at the point of contact. With this in mind, MacKay had asked Burfoot to concentrate his men in four platoons at the four points that he considered most likely to be targets for an attack in column. Every platoon was mounted and a lookout was in line of sight so that a simple signal could send the whole company to any of the four points within ten minutes.

  It now appeared that the French were intending to gamble everything on a single mass assault, aimed at a crossing not a quarter of a mile from where Santocildes and MacKay were watching.

  The tall Scot considered the options once more. At La Bañeza, with about the same strength, the French had attacked in two columns, but they had been attacking a town along both banks of a stream and hoping to draw defenders from one point to another.

  Here, on the other hand, they knew the defenders were stretched and that it was sensible to look for an advantage where the river was shallower, wider and already in use as a ford. Added to that, he doubted that any more skirmishers were available than those already deployed before him.

  He made up his mind and signalled to Captain Burfoot. In turn he waved at his signaller, high up on a nearby hill. Within a matter of seconds, three platoons of Avispónes were converging on Lieutenant Thuner and 2 Platoon, already in position at the crossing.

  Everyone was in position when the column of French heavy infantry came into view. The skirmishers reacted to their bugle calls almost as one man and began to trot down towards the river.

  Santocildes had built his defences up to fifty yards back from the river bank. It gave the attackers confidence that they would be safe until they had almost crossed the river and were coming up to the edge of the opposite bank. Indeed, Burfoot encouraged them to think so by holding his fire until the whole host of them was within a hundred and fifty yards and still trotting upright.

  The first, traditional, split volley flattened almost a third of them and sent most of the rest of them diving for any cover that could be found. The realisation then took hold that they couldn’t retaliate until they were at least fifty yards closer.

  A deadly game then started. Working in pairs, one of the pair would scramble to his feet and rush forward to previously selected cover. In some cases their partners would fire their muskets and rush forward themselves. The thinking ones realised that they were wasting ammunition at that range and only advertising their position with a cloud of powder smoke.

  Scrambling forward to within a hundred yards – the speculatively accurate range of their muskets – was not an answer. The carbines of the Avispónes could hit a melon at that range and the head of a tirailleur was bigger than many melons.

  Some relief came when the head of the heavy column closed to within two hundred and fifty yards and the Hornets started to aim at any officers foolish enough to be in front of the column, or at least, between the column and the Hornets.

  Not wishing to waste ammunition at maximum range, Burfoot’s men were happy that their shot went into the column if it missed its first target.

  The head of the column dipped over the edge of the bank and down toward the shallow river. The Hornets faded back through the Spanish marksmen, who waited until the French were struggling to maintain formation while wading through the river. Then they delivered accurate volleys at less than a hundred yards, quite obliterating the first third of the column.

  Whatever the Spaniards might feel about the invaders of their country, French valour and elan could not be questioned. Even when it was obvious that they were faced with far greater numbers than they had realised, the column stumbled on across the shallow river and climbed over the bodies of their own dead to try and reach their entrenched opponents.

  If the Spaniards had not been entrenched, but standing in line to receive them, it is likely that the sheer ferocity of the assault would have given it success.

  As it was; without the support of the Benavente detachment; the attack was cut to pieces. So determined were they that the assault was pressed home until well over half their numbers fell, including their general. Then they turned and ran.

  MacKay turned to Santocildes. “You have created an army out of peasants, Señor General. It is a Spanish army and most certainly a Spanish victory; probably the first since Bailén. If you are to make it complete, now is the time to let your cavalry loose. Pursue them as ruthlessly as the French themselves would do and very few of that force shall return to León.

  Feel free to use my Avispón company with your horsemen. This is, and should remain, an entirely Spanish affair.”

  The general was quite emotional. “Be that as it may, my friend, I personally shall ever be in your debt for your vital contribution and the spirit that you have given to my men.”

  He rapped out orders and the deputy commander led out his cavalry in hot pursuit, while selected regiments of foot started their advance on León.

  Burfoot got F Company mounted and set out after the Spanish horsemen, with the laconic instruction from MacKay. “Do what ye can tae help, but round up as many prisoners as ye can. The Frogs are temporarily short o’ men in the north. We hae tae make them even shorter.”

  * * *

  Compared with many of the other battles fought in Spain during the last few years, Santocildes’ campaign in the north had to be regarded as a minor affray.

  Spanish opinion did not regard it as such, however. Small as it was, as MacKay had pointed out, it was the first time since Bailén that a Spanish army had routed a French force and the disproportionate sizes of the opposing combatants was not dwelt upon in any of the patriot press.

  Some mention was given in the official Spanish account of the valuable contribution made by the Avispónes Españoles valerosos, but this was not picked up by any of the British correspondents, possibly because they did not understand the spanish for Hornet.

  Marshal Bessières sought desperately to get together enough men to come to the aid of the garrison at León. He drained the reserves throughout his northern territories and combined with the survivors of the Benavente garrison to strike back at the Spanish.

  MacKay had anticipated that when his fiefdom was threatened; like Marshal Soult in Andalucia; Marshal Bessières would denude his garrisons to meet that threat. When he took the English and Portuguese Hornets back to join Wellington on the frontier, he left Burfoot and the Spanish F Company to scout for Santocildes and to continue to improve the marksmanship of his elite un
its.

  They were able to warn the general of the approach of the French relief columns, so that the wily Spaniard could retire with his army into the mountains.

  MacKay didn’t stop there. He directed the newly formed Spanish companies of Avispas at Santiago del Valle to sally forth against the French and to encourage all the bands of guerrilleros in the now weakened areas of Castille and León to rise up in rebellion.

  General Dorsenne superseded Marshal Bessières as commander of the Army of the North and his first task was to march all his weary men back from chasing Santocildes, in order to deal with this insurrection.

  Santocildes needed no persuading to return to the offensive and attacked the now weakened forces of Generals Serras and Bonnet, until Dorsenne had to rush men back to support them. Insurrection immediately broke out again.

  This ridiculous situation continued, back and forth, until towards the end of the year, when the long expected reinforcements arrived from France and the harassed French could stabilise the province. A highly delighted Santocildes, satisfied with his autumn adventure, retired into the mountains for the winter.

  By this time, Lord Wellington, with no worries at all that the Army of the North could give support to Marmont and Soult, had brought much of his army back to the Beira frontier. He was busily rebuilding and reorganising his forces for the following year’s campaign and hoped-for break out into Spain.

  MacKay had made no mention of his elevation to brigadier general in the Army of Galicia, but Santocildes had written a glowing despatch to Lord Wellington, who welcomed him back with no evidence of his normal reserve and not a little amusement.

  “I am considering most carefully whether or not to recommend to Sir Joshua not to second you to any other Spanish generals, MacKay.” He paused gravely, for effect. “It would never do if the next one gave you a rank superior to mine. I might have to turn my command over to you. How d’ye think you should cope with that, eh?”