Whose Business Is to Die (46 page)

Wellington was wrong-footed at Fuentes de Oñoro, but quickly understood his error and reacted to deal with the threat. At Albuera Beresford took longer to recognise the threat to his flank and dealt with it clumsily. The army was saved by the stubborn resistance of Zayas’ regiments and the other Spanish troops, who faced off the main French attack on their own for more than half an hour. This was the finest performance by Spanish soldiers in sight of their redcoated allies throughout the entire war. It clearly surprised the French, who were hurrying forward and expecting the defenders to cave in.

Beresford ordered the Second Division to march to the aid of the beleaguered Spanish, but appears to have left the execution of this order entirely to Stewart. The latter led Colborne’s men to march past their allies along the French flank and to hit them from the side. Stewart directed this in person and did not grant Colborne’s request to keep the Buffs in close column to guard the flank from enemy cavalry. Perhaps he was carried away in the moment by the prospect of such an opportunity, or believed that they could break the French infantry before any cavalry intervened. The general was certainly in a hurry, ordering the battalions to form ‘left in front’ or ‘clubbed’ – the opposite to their normal formation – and then rushing them forward before they were ready. Even so, this hurried attack did begin to make headway. Combined with the stubborn resistance of Zayas’ regiments it took all the momentum and energy from the leading French division.

The charge by the Lancers of the Vistula and 2ième Hussars supported by the 10ième Hussars was the greatest success won by French cavalry over the British in the entire war. General La Tour-Maubourg’s escort squadron does appear to have joined the attack, so there is justification for involving Dalmas and the dragoons. Stewart had left the flank of the infantry completely open. The downpour gave the redcoats even less chance of resisting the onslaught of the cavalry, but even so they were very
poorly placed. In ten minutes or so the horsemen rode down Colborne’s brigade and overran the KGL artillery. A few of the horsemen continued on behind Zayas’ infantry, prompting the redcoats coming up in support to fire on them. A couple of lancers got among Marshal Beresford and his staff and the story of the marshal bodily plucking a Pole from the saddle is true. Beresford was a big man and no one ever had reason to doubt his physical courage. Some British sources claim that the Polish lancers were drunk and particularly brutal, stabbing again and again at wounded or captured men. It is hard to say whether this went beyond the normal excitement of cavalry riding down a broken enemy, but it did result in ill feeling.

Colborne’s brigade was destroyed as a fighting force, with the exception of the 2/31st who were able to form some sort of hasty square – a drill the regiment continued to practise for several decades. Even they lost a third of their strength in the course of the day. The Buffs suffered 85 per cent casualties, the 2/48th lost 76 per cent of their men and the 2/66th some 66 per cent. These figures do not include some lightly wounded men who returned to duty within a day or so, or others scattered in the fighting who did not reappear until after the battle was over. Actual numbers with the Colours in the later stages of the fighting were probably significantly lower.

The 2/48th and 2/66th both lost their King’s and Regimental Colours. Substantial parts of the flags from the Colours of the Buffs were later found on the battlefield, and so the battalion was able to claim that it had not lost them. For the British Army, it was the silk flags that had value. The French placed most importance on the staffs carrying them, both of which they carried off. Thus as far as they were concerned they had captured six Colours. The British claimed that only four or five had been lost. Most of the Buffs’ King’s Colour was torn off by Lieutenant Matthew Latham – the man Williams sees defending it and suffering a series of terrible wounds. Latham lost his arm, much of his face and nose and was stabbed in the body, but somehow managed to conceal the flag under him. It was found
later in the day, the men assuming that the mangled lieutenant was dead. Later it was discovered that he was still alive, and he eventually recovered to continue serving with the regiment. Surgeon’s drawings reveal the horribly disfiguring nature of his wounds.

After the destruction of Colborne’s brigade, the other two brigades of the Second Division engaged in a prolonged and bloody firefight with the French infantry. Neither side was able to charge and break the stalemate and so the men stood and mowed each other down with musketry, with the French artillery in particular adding to the carnage. The three battalions of Houghton’s brigade each suffered some 60 per cent casualties – hardly any of them missing – and the 1/57th or ‘West Middlesex’ gained the nickname ‘the Diehards’ to add to their existing one of the ‘Steelbacks’. The name certainly dates to Albuera, but there is no contemporary evidence for the story that it came from their commander, Lieutenant Colonel Inglis, calling out to them to die hard as he lay badly wounded. It is possible that the story is true, although the ball of heavy canister that struck Inglis in the neck is today on display in the National Army Museum in London, and it does seem unlikely that he was able to shout to his men. What is not in doubt is the courage of their commander or the battalion, and the name was surely well earned.

The Second Division was slowly being ground away. Its other brigade suffered losses of around a quarter of its strength – something that would be considered severe in any other battle. Beresford knew that he needed to reinforce them, but clearly wanted to keep the Fourth Division as a reserve to cover a retreat should that prove necessary. He did ride up to a Spanish regiment and manhandle its colonel when the man refused to advance. This is normally told as an indication of the poor quality of the Spanish army, and it is true that the regiment in question consisted of survivors of a defeat earlier in the year. Yet more probably it is an indication of the marshal’s state of mind, and it is possible that he did not issue the order in as clear or proper a manner as he should. At the very least he was not tactful in dealing with
an ally, and may all too quickly have grabbed the regiment’s commander rather than finding a senior Spanish officer to give the necessary orders.

Around the same time, Soult hesitated. He still had the fresh dragoon regiments and the re-forming lancers and hussars as well as the strong brigade of infantry under Werlé. It is more than possible that a strong attack by these forces working together would have won the battle. Willing or not, many of the Spanish regiments were not well enough drilled to manoeuvre and Beresford does seem to have been close to admitting defeat. We can never know what would have happened, but it is worth remembering that the French were heavily outnumbered. If Soult had attacked again and been defeated then it would have been hard to withdraw without suffering very heavy losses. In particular he would need his cavalry in good condition to cover his withdrawal. Very heavy losses not only risked his reputation, but could threaten French control of Andalusia. Subsequently he used the presence of Blake’s Spanish as an excuse for not pressing the attack, but he knew that some or all of the Spanish were there from the early morning and yet had advanced anyway. Many people felt that Soult was a better strategist and organiser than he was a battlefield commander. It probably did not help that so many of his senior officers had already fallen.

Major General Lowry Cole on his own responsibility ordered his Fourth Division to advance. He was urged to act by some of Beresford’s staff, but this was contrary to the marshal’s orders. His two brigades had to cross a wide plain ideal for cavalry and then deploy into line to attack the infantry. It could easily have gone wrong, but instead the complicated manoeuvre went well. The inexperienced Portuguese regiments stood and saw off the French dragoons, aided by the presence on their flank of infantry in square – in this case the British Light Companies. This was close to what Colborne had requested permission to do. Afterwards the Fusilier Brigade attacked Werlé’s infantry and after a ferocious combat broke them. It won the day for the Allies, but only at tremendous cost. Overall the Fusilier Brigade
lost more than half its strength. By the closing stages it was under the command of a major – in reality Major Pearson of the 1/23rd rather than the fictional MacAndrews. In the story the 106th take the place of the 2/7th Foot or Royal Fusiliers. After the battle with its appalling losses, the two battalions of the 7th were merged into one and the 1/48th joined the brigade. I have anticipated this by attaching the 106th before the battle.

Albuera was one of the bloodiest day’s fighting in the entire Peninsular War. Beresford lost almost six thousand men, two-thirds of them British. All in all, almost half the British infantry to see action became casualties. Spanish losses were comparably heavy for Zayas’ division and the other heavily engaged regiments. Soult’s losses were similar, but concentrated mainly among the infantry of V Corps and Werlé’s brigade. All sides fought with great courage, whether it was the Spanish holding off the French attack, the Portuguese standing firm against the cavalry, the French advancing doggedly into the appalling firefight or the redcoats marching to meet them. Albuera was very much a soldier’s battle, and the Allies won in spite of the errors of their commanders, but the cost was appalling.

Afterwards Beresford seems to have fallen prey to a deep depression and the dispatch he sent to Wellington was extremely gloomy. Fearing that this ‘whining report … would drive the people in England mad …’ and provide plenty of ammunition for the Opposition, the commander of the army declared, ‘This won’t do, write me down a victory.’ This was duly done, and even though there was widespread criticism of Beresford in the army, this was concealed at home. However, the marshal was never again given a major independent command. Long continued in charge of a cavalry brigade until he was sent home in 1813. Stewart remained in charge of the Second Division until he was badly wounded two years later, but survived to become a lieutenant general.

Albuera was a victory, for Soult’s attempt to relieve and re-supply Badajoz was stopped and the French forced to retreat. It was not won by the brilliance of the Allied high command,
but by luck, the bold action of Lowry Cole, and most of all the stubborn fighting of the Allied infantry, which in the end overcame the courage of their French counterparts. If the French had matched the Allied numbers then it is possible that the result would have been different.

It is very easy to criticise decisions made by senior officers, without placing them in the context of the immense pressures they were under. Little in his previous career had prepared Beresford for command of an army of some thirty-five thousand men comprised of formations from three different nations – not including the King’s German Legion, who were fully integrated with their British colleagues. It should therefore be no great surprise that the marshal did not shine in the role, for it would have been amazing if he had done so. Things might have been very different had the more experienced Hill been present, but none of the British senior officers apart from Wellington had experience of command on this scale.

As we have seen, the Second Siege of Badajoz failed, but Fuentes de Oñoro and Albuera were hailed as victories and did go a long way to saving Portugal from the immediate prospect of fresh invasion. The Prince Regent decided not to ask the Whigs to form a government and so support for Wellington and the war effort was maintained. His army grew slowly, but steadily, and in time he was in a better position to attack. For the men of the 106th there was still a long way to march and many battles to fight, but although they might not realise it, the tide of the war was turning.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Names underlined are fictional characters.

The 106th Regiment of Foot

Captain Billy PRINGLE
– Born into a family with a long tradition of service in the Royal Navy, Pringle’s short-sightedness and severe seasickness led his father to send him to Oxford with a view to becoming a parson. Instead Pringle persuaded his parents to secure him a commission in the army. Plump, easy going and overfond of both drink and women, Pringle has found active service easier to deal with than the quiet routine and temptations of garrison duty in Britain. Through the battles in Portugal, and the arduous campaign in Spain, Billy Pringle has won promotion and found himself easing into his role as a leader. Part of a detachment whose ship was driven back to Portugal after being evacuated from Corunna, Pringle served in the 3rd Battalion of Detachments at Talavera and was wounded in the last moments of the battle. After a brief spell in Britain, he returned to Spain, serving at Ciudad Rodrigo and the River Côa in 1810, and then at Barrosa in 1811.

Lieutenant William HANLEY
– Illegitimate son of an actress and a banker, Hanley was raised by his grandmother and spent years in Madrid as an aspiring artist. His father’s death ended his allowance, and reluctantly Hanley took up a commission in the 106th purchased for him many years before. He served in Portugal in 1808, suffering a wound at Roliça. Since then his
fluency in Spanish has led to periodic staff duties. Even so, he was with Pringle and the Grenadier Company throughout the retreat to Corunna. Captured by the French, he escaped and has found himself involved in intelligence work. He was wounded at Talavera. In 1810 and 1811 he was once again employed on detached service, gathering intelligence and often operating behind French lines.

Lieutenant Hamish WILLIAMS
– Williams joined the 106th as a Gentleman Volunteer, serving in the ranks and soon proving himself to be a natural soldier. He was commissioned as ensign following the Battle of Vimeiro. During the retreat to Corunna, he became cut off from the main army. Rallying a band of stragglers, he not only led them back to the main force, but thwarted a French column attempting to outflank the British army. He was praised by Sir John Moore for his actions, and was beside the general when the latter was mortally wounded at Corunna. In 1809 he was promoted to lieutenant and commanded a company in the 3rd Battalion of Detachments and fought with distinction at Talavera. Returning to Spain, he was left in charge of a small party of redcoats and Spanish infantry when the French besieged the frontier town of Ciudad Rodrigo. He also saw action in several border skirmishes and at the River Côa, and took part in landings along the southern coast of Spain. Wounded and left behind at Fuengirola, he spent several months with a band of
guerrilleros
, before serving at Barrosa. Fervently in love with Jane MacAndrews, Williams’ cause seems to be continually thwarted by her unpredictability and his clumsiness, and most recently by her acquisition of a considerable fortune.