by Rory Muir
Regardless of the fire of the riflemen, and the showers of grape and canister, Pakenham 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, his right brigade assumed the form of a crescent … 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 battle; the former, keeping their devoted soldiers back! …
… 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, Thomières's entire 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's 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's troops were seized with a panic… .
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 … seizing a firelock, and beckoning to his men to follow, ran forward a few paces and shot Major Murphy dead at the head 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.13
All this needs to be taken with a pinch of salt: Wallace's brigade was not facing the whole of Thomières's division, and the ‘torrent of bullets from five thousand muskets’ is no more than a rhetorical flourish. The three battalions of Wallace's brigade amounted to nearly 1,500 rank and file; they formed a single two deep line about five hundred yards long; and it is clear both from Grattan and from other sources that they outflanked the French on both sides, so that parts of the British battalions on each flank curled inwards – Grattan's ‘crescent’. This suggests that the French presented a front of at most three hundred yards. A single French battalion formed in column of divisions (that is, with two companies in front) was barely fifty yards wide. It is therefore possible that all four battalions that Thomières had available were crowded together in a single line of battalion columns, with minimal gaps in between each column, although, given the nature of the ground (the southern face of the Monte de Azan is particularly steep at this point), this seems most unlikely. Alternatively, the French could have formed two regimental columns, each having a frontage of only two companies but double the depth of a battalion column; or two battalion columns could have been kept some distance to the rear to act as supports or reserves.
Whatever the details of the French formation, it is clear that they were not in line, and that at best fewer than one-third of Thomières's two thousand infantry could bring their muskets to bear effectively. This is confirmed by the casualties suffered by the British, which were much less severe than Grattan suggests with his ‘almost the entire of Wallace's front rank, and more than half of his officers’. In fact, the brigade suffered only 239 casualties from 1,548 officers and men in the entire battle (or 15.4 per cent) and of his seventy officers only two were killed and eleven wounded (18.6 per cent).14 Significantly, Grattan's own regiment, the 88th, which was in the centre of the line, suffered disproportionately: 135 casualties from 663 officers and men, or 20.4 per cent, a rate almost double that of the other two regiments in the brigade. These heavy losses in the centre help explain why the flanking battalions, facing less opposition, pressed forward more rapidly and the line curved around the French flanks.
It is unlikely that the French expected to halt the British attack through musketry alone: to do so they should have deployed in line. Rather, Grattan's account suggests that they intended their first volley to check and unsettle the British, so gaining a temporary psychological advantage which could then be exploited by charging the shaken line. Against other opponents these tactics might well have succeeded, but, although ‘staggered’ by the French fire, Wallace's men continued to advance, and this greatly disconcerted the French. Their confidence shaken, the second French volley was ‘irregular and ill-directed’; already the allies had gained the psychological ascendancy. The British continued to advance and cheered, displaying a confidence which further shook the French and caused some panic. Finally, as the British soldiers grew impatient, especially at the sight of Major Murphy's body, Pakenham gave the signal, they charged and the French broke before them.
It is worth noting that neither Grattan nor Campbell states that the British line fired at all in their advance, except for the single shot which avenged Major Murphy. Indeed, Campbell is quite explicit in rejecting any attempt to engage in a musketry duel: ‘[The French] opened a very heavy and destructive fire upon us, and which would have lasted long enough had the brigade been halted to return it, but it was instantly charged and overthrown. It was now evident to us all that Sir Edward Pakenham knew how to handle Picton's division.’ This despite the fact that the British were advancing in line and could bring every musket to bear on the enemy.15
One last observation on Grattan's account is the emphasis he places on the role of officers: keeping their men under control and seeking to inspire them by personal example. Of course, Grattan was a subaltern himself and so was acutely aware of the pressures on regimental officers in combat, but he paints an interesting picture of the varied roles which relatively junior officers played when their unit was closely engaged – even if he chooses to concentrate on those who displayed particular bravery, rather than those who were anxiously trying to remain inconspicuous. Officers were no more immune to fear than their men, and their prominence could make them decidedly uncomfortable. The colours in the centre of the regiment were an obvious target and junior officers carrying them knew that they must not waver. As the 88th advanced, the King's Colour was borne by Lieutenant John D'Arcy and the Regimental Colour by Lieutenant T. Moriarty. When the French colonel seized a musket and aimed at the centre of the regiment, Moriarty remarked, ‘That fellow is aiming at me!’ ‘I hope so,’ D'Arcy replied, ‘for I thought he had me covered.’ But it was Major Murphy riding immediately in front who was hit, and the two young men had to repress their qualms and continue their advance.16
At the same time that Wallace's brigade was advancing on the French infantry, Curto's cavalry charged the right flank of the British line. According to one account, the British infantry were ‘within about 50 yards of the summit, when a body of German riflemen,
belonging to a battalion of the 60th, who had been advancing to the front [as skirmishers], and had already crowned the height, came running back at full speed, exclaiming, “Der Deivel, dere are de French horse coming!”!’ This was just sufficient warning for the commander of the 1/45th, the right-hand battalion in Wallace's brigade, to wheel back the three end companies of his line and the advancing cavalry sheered away from their fire. Pakenham, who was riding past, exclaimed, ‘Well done, 45th.’17 But the second British brigade, advancing in Wallace's rear, was less quick to react, and the French cavalry cut in to its end battalion, the 1/5th, and inflicted considerable damage. Private William Brown writes:
As our brigade was marching up to attack a strongly posted column of infantry, a furious charge was made by a body of cavalry upon our Regiment, and, not having time to form square, we suffered severely. Several times the enemy rode through us, cutting down with their sabres all that opposed them. Our ranks were broken and thrown into the utmost confusion. Repeatedly our men attempted to reform, but all in vain – they were as often cut down and trampled upon by their antagonists. … Numerous and severe were the wounds received on this occasion. Several had their arms dashed from their shoulders, and I saw more than one with their heads completely cloven. Among the rest I received a wound, but comparatively slight, although well aimed. Coming in contact with one of the enemy he brandished his sword over me, and standing in his stirrup-irons, prepared to strike; but, pricking his horse with my bayonet, it reared and pranced, when the sword fell, the point striking my forehead. He was, however, immediately brought down, falling with a groan to rise no more.18
The 1/5th had only joined the army a few days before, although as it had seen service at Coruña and Walcheren it was not a completely raw unit; but taken by surprise in the flank, it broke. Before the French could exploit their success, however, D'Urban's Portuguese dragoons rode up and drove them off. Pakenham gave the scattered infantry a few minutes to realize that they were safe, stop running and catch their breath, then he rode up to them, ‘and very good-naturedly said, “re-form”, and in about a moment “advance”, adding “there they are my lads, just let them feel the temper of your bayonets.” ’19 The troops were rallied with patience and encouragement, not criticism or blame. The battalion lost 126 casualties – although not all of these would have been suffered in this episode. This was considerably more than the combined losses of the other three battalions in the second brigade, but it was a very strong unit (902 all ranks) so that the losses amounted to only 14 per cent of its strength. Even so, this was a higher proportion than any other unit in Pakenham's division except the 88th.
The French cavalry might have secured a more important success if they had been present in greater force, but it seems that only two or three squadrons charged the British infantry. The remainder of the brigade, six or seven squadrons, was already engaged with Arentschildt's horsemen, while Curto's other brigade was evidently too far to the rear to play any part at this point. Arentschildt advanced across a steep gully and then kept the 14th Light Dragoons in reserve while Major Grüben led the 1st KGL Hussars in a charge. The foremost French squadrons were broken, but rallied on their supports, which in turn drove the German Hussars back, only for the Light Dragoons to decide the contest. As usual in cavalry contests, the victor's losses were slight: the Hussars lost only two men killed, five officers and sixteen men wounded, a total of twenty-three casualties from a strength of 399 officers and men, while the 14th Light Dragoons lost only eight casualties from 347 officers and men; in both cases these figures represent their losses over the whole day, and this was not the only episode in which they were engaged. Curto's men lost more heavily, but it is impossible to distinguish which regiments were present at this combat, or when they suffered their casualties. As a whole, his division lost about 250 casualties (including unwounded prisoners), but most of these losses would probably have occurred later in the day. The initial contest, however, was important, both for giving the allies greater confidence in later encounters – and confidence and nerve were vital in cavalry combat – and for protecting Pakenham's flank at the critical moment of his attack.20
The Third Division was now securely astride the Monte de Azan advancing triumphantly east, driving the wrecks of the 101st and 62nd Regiments before it. According to Captain Campbell, ‘the enemy's infantry were quickly pursued, chiefly by Colonel Wallace, at the head of the 88th, whose impetuosity was found most difficult to restrain. … Another charge was intended; the French would not, however, stand, and retired in tolerable order.’ This is broadly confirmed by Grattan, who laments that the British cavalry were not yet in a position to exploit the advantage that the infantry had gained, and who admits that although Wallace's men pressed forward eagerly, the French outran them.21 Thomières's leading regiments had been broken, but they might yet be rallied if they could find supports to shelter behind while they regained their composure and were restored to order. Pakenham's men had won the first round, but now faced the danger that an impetuous advance might leave them breathless, disordered and vulnerable to a French counterattack. The French flank had been turned and an important advantage gained, but the battle was only just beginning.
Commentary
Wellington's dramatic arrival at the head of the Third Division naturally set tongues wagging and eventually produced a crop of well-seasoned anecdotes. Grattan's version is not implausible, but it can hardly have been based on personal observation, for how would a junior lieutenant in the 88th (not the leading regiment in its brigade) have been in a position to overhear Wellington's words to Pakenham? Captain Campbell, as brigade-major of the first brigade, is more likely to have been in attendance, but his account gains credibility by not pretending perfect recall of the dialogue: ‘Lord Wellington, followed by some of his staff, galloped up to where the 3rd Division was posted; and calling for Sir Edward Pakenham, he gave him certain orders in a few very impressive words, and Sir Edward's reply was quite in character.’ Captain Lightfoot of the 45th wrote home from Madrid on 26 September: ‘His Lordship's orders to General Pakenham in our hearing were: “Pakenham, you will carry that height where the enemy's left is posted by storm, and when you have gained it, go at them hard and fast with the bayonet.” “Yes, my Lord,” cried Pakenham, “that I will, by God,” and galloping off, placed himself at our head.’22 This is a much better source than Grattan or even Campbell, if only because it was written so much closer to the events; but even so, doubts remain. Would Lightfoot really have been able to hear what Wellington said? And would he be able to recall the words exactly more than two months later, when the day of battle had been so full of other momentous events and disturbing impressions?
Hand-drawn map of the battle by Andrew Leith Hay. For a more familiar perspective, rotate approximately 45° clockwise.
A is the British position on the morning of the 22 July; B is the French position on the Heights of Calvarrasa de Arriba; C is the Greater Arapile; D is the French advancing behind the Greater Arapile; E is the French troops on Monte de Azan; F is the British position before they began their advance; G is the advance of Pakenham's division which turned the French left flank.
Other versions of the episode can be traced back to a highly coloured and rather implausible account in Story of the Peninsular War (1848) which was an abridged edition of Lord Londonderry's Narrative of the Peninsular War (1828) completed, including the account of Salamanca, by George Gleig. Neither Londonderry nor Gleig was at Salamanca, although they both knew Wellington well, and may have heard some version of the story from him:
Lord Wellington had dined amid the ranks of the third division, and Pakenham, its frank and chivalrous leader, was one of those who shared his simple and soldier-like meal. To him the commander-in-chief gave his orders, somewhat in the following words: – ‘Do you see those fellows on the hill, Pakenham? Throw your division into columns of battalions – at them directly – and drive them to the devil.’ Instantly the division was forme
d – and the order executed admirably. As he passed, Pakenham stopped, for a moment, near his brother-in-law, and said, ‘Give me a hold of that conquering hand!’ and then rode off, watching every movement with a soldier's eye, and directing his columns to their proper places; – while Lord Wellington, turning round, observed to his staff; ‘Did you ever see a man who understood so clearly what he had to do?’23
Wellington states that Pakenham and D'Urban advanced in four columns; Pakenham writes of his division marching ‘in double column’; and D'Urban says that he was directed ‘to move in two Columns of Lines upon the Right.’ This seems clear enough, but where were the Portuguese infantry? Campbell implies that they followed Wallace's brigade; Grattan has them forming a second line between the two British brigades; while Young and Lawford divide them, with half in the rear of each infantry column. The problem with this is that when the British brigades wheeled to their left, this would have placed the Portuguese on their left in the front line – which does not agree with any account of the subsequent fighting. Nor do they seem to have been in the second line, or Curto's cavalry would have attacked them in the flank rather than the 1/5th. Their most natural location was as a third line behind the British brigades, and this supposition is supported by their low casualties – which were at barely half the rate suffered by regiments in the second British brigade, even if the unhappy 1/5th is excluded. In this case it would be most natural for them to advance in a third column between the second brigade and the cavalry; none of our sources mentions this, but British writers were sometimes inclined to disregard the Portuguese. However, without further evidence the point cannot be securely settled one way or the other. Strangely, both Oman and Fortescue seem to have been confused by Campbell's habit of calling Wallace's men ‘the right brigade’ and have his column closest to the cavalry; but it is extremely difficult to see how it could have led the attack on Thomières from there.24