02 - Keane's Challenge (36 page)

General Robert Craufurd was one of Wellington’s most charismatic
commanders of the war and was held in great affection by his men. The son of a Scottish baronet, he had fought the French over some thirty-one years, everywhere from India and the Netherlands to South America, and in 1809 was given command of the nascent Light Division, which he made his own. He had also held a staff post during the Irish rebellion of 1798. Craufurd earned the nickname ‘Black Bob’, partly it is said on account of his mood swings and partly from the heavy stubble on his face.

Craufurd always led from the front and is the epitome of the modern precept of the British army officer who will not allow his men to attempt anything he himself cannot undertake.

Following the fall of Ciudad Rodrigo, Craufurd, commanding the British rearguard, blew up Fort Concepcion and withdrew across the border into Portugal, attempting to hold a line east of the Côa river, protecting Almeida, with only 3,500 infantry and 1,200 cavalry.

In the early hours of 24 July, Ney moved his force of 24,000 men against Craufurd, but the initial attack was stopped by heavy musket and rifle fire. Undaunted, the French 3rd Hussars attacked and devastated the left flank of Craufurd’s line, wiping out a company of the Rifles. Seeing that his line was in danger of being rolled up, Craufurd ordered a retreat to the bridge over the Côa. Although, in truth, Craufurd lacked the assistance of Keane and his men, with gallant help from the Portuguese cacadores his three British battalions, the 52nd, 43rd and 95th, attempted to hold back the French while falling back from the left. Seeing that the 52nd were in danger of being cut off by the French troops occupying the knoll, Major Charles Macleod of
the 43rd and Lieutenant-Colonel Thomas Beckwith of the 95th led a charge to retake it. Under heavy fire from French infantry, the 43rd and 95th took the knoll and held it long enough for the 52nd to escape.

Ney then ordered the bridge to be stormed. The French moved forward but, under musket and cannon fire, failed to get further than halfway across. A second light-infantry attack pushed hard over the bridge until it was blocked by the bodies of the French killed and the wounded and the enemy were unable to advance any further. Craufurd’s audacious defence had bought vital time and enabled him to rejoin the army.

Wellington’s sacrifice of Ciudad and Almeida have long been sources of controversy. But as usual his logic was unshakeable.

The brilliance of his plan to retire behind defensive positions and play a waiting game was not universally acknowledged and a number of officers disagreed with him, including Craufurd, who favoured withdrawing completely. Others, including those in the prince regent’s camp, demanded an immediate victory. That did not come until Bussaco, but it was this battle that made the French, including Marshal Ney, learn to forever fear Wellington’s name.

His scorched-earth policy has also had its critics, but it was undeniably effective. Living off the land was, in the early years of Napoleon’s wars, one of the great advantages of the French, allowing them to rely less on their supply chains and rendering them more manoeuvrable than and capable of running rings around their enemies. Wellington, however, spotted its great disadvantage and in denying the French the essentials of an army, which as his great adversary remarked ‘marches on its stomach’, dealt them a mortal blow.

Naturally, the ruination of the land did have an effect upon the Portuguese and there are reports of British and allied troops
being attacked by farmers.

Edward Charles Cocks recounts how on 1 August 1810 two of his patrols in two villages were attacked by the peasantry and two men badly wounded. One was tied to a tree for a day, the other stoned and shot in the chest. Cocks seized inhabitants from each village and sent them back to Guarda for punishment.

Apart from the scorched earth, and the shock defeat of Bussaco, there were other notable reasons for the marshal’s lack of success, for Massena, while being one of Napoleon’s most brilliant generals, was also notorious for his addiction to booty and to the pleasures of the flesh. He was completely infatuated with his mistress, the young Henriette Lebreton, demanding that she be allowed to accompany him on his Peninsular campaign. She went along disguised as a cornet of dragoons, an extra ADC, in a scandalously cut, specially designed uniform. Rumour has always had it that Massena was two hours late joining his subcommanders at the battle of Bussaco because he was otherwise occupied with her and that an ADC had to shout details of Ney’s initial report through his locked bedroom door.

Massena was later to admit that his infatuation had in part led to the failure of his campaign and the end of his military career.

Henriette Lebreton (née Renique), was just eighteen and had been a ballet dancer with the Paris Opéra when she met Massena. She was the sister of one of his aides-de-camp, Captain Eugène Renique. By the time she and Massena met she was married to one of his former adjutants, Jacques-Denis-Louis Lebreton, a captain of dragoons, whom she abandoned to follow the marshal.

While Henriette appears to have been loyal to Massena and we can only assume that she was an astute career woman, her counterpart in the book is clearly less enamoured with her lover.

Her liaison with Keane and the affair of the copied orders are the stuff of invention, although clearly there were eyes and ears in the French camp, and who can say whether Henriette might not have been involved. Whatever her true nature, she remains one of the mysteries of the war, as her whereabouts after the battle of Bussaco are unknown.

As Wellington gradually began to beat the French in the Peninsula, the work of intelligence officers such as Keane became slightly more respected by the other, more traditional arms of the British army.

Grant’s efforts and the work of the Corps of Guides and the exploring officers ensured that Wellington would continue to be far better informed than his enemy, giving him a vital advantage when faced by such superior numbers.

But it was by no means easy going. The work of the ‘intelligencers’ was arduous, challenging and always extremely dangerous.

Keane and his men will need to summon all their guile, courage and endurance when they face their toughest challenge yet, in the next book.