The Powers of Europe and Fall of Sebastopol

by A British officer

In looking back through the long series of years that have elapsed since those eventful days, there are few scenes that I can recall more vividly than that which occurred on the morning I left Gibraltar. It was my first experience of the kind, and, therefore, made a deeper impression than many after scenes, which might have been far more worthy of record than this. It was a beautiful morning, and everywhere the troops were in motion. Horses were brought out, our baggage prepared and sent on; the light jest and laugh and joke went freely round, serving, in many instances, to conceal the thoughts that longed for utterance. Farewells were exchanged, last words spoken; and, finally, all were prepared, the word given, and our gallant little army marched out of Gibraltar. It was truly a brilliant sight; and the lively strains of our music contributed its share to make us forget that we were marching into a country at all times perilous, and now doubly so, to meet certain dangers, and, many of us, certain death. Yet these were in the future, and lost beneath the crowd of bright and joyous anticipations that kindled in our hearts as the last loud cheering of our comrades died away, and the walls of the far-famed city receded in the distance behind our onward march. Our course was directed to Tarifa; here we had orders to wait until the forces from Cadiz should come up. An expedition had been sent out from this city, consisting of ten thousand men, three thousand of whom were British, whose object was to drive the French general out of his lines. Victor, having heard of this project, enlarged and strengthened his own forces, which now amounted to about twenty thousand men, in Andalusia.

The allied army sailed from Cadiz on the 20th of February, for Tarifa; but, a storm arising soon after they left, they were driven past this port, and disembarked at Algesiras. They marched to Tarifa on the 23d, under the command of General Thomas Graham. Here we met; and, as we were more recently from home than these troops, we had many questions to answer, and much information both to give and receive. Before night, however, we had all our places assigned to us, and were now ready for our march. But the Spanish General La Pena had not yet arrived; and so we remained encamped here until the 27th, when he came up, with his forces; and to him General Graham, for the sake of unanimity, ceded the chief command. All day we were busy in preparations for our morrow’s march, expecting at its close to come within a short distance of the enemy’s outposts. Early the next morning, our whole army was in motion. We moved forward about twelve miles, over the mountain ridges that descend from Ronda to the sea; and then, having learned that the enemy were only four leagues distance, we halted, for the purpose of reorganizing the army. The command of the vanguard was given to Lardizabal, that of the centre to the Prince of Anglona, while General Graham had charge of the reserve, consisting of two Spanish regiments and the British troops. The cavalry of both nations, formed in one body, was commanded by Colonel Whittingham. The French army were encamped near Chiclana, narrowly observing the movements of the allied armies, and determined, at all events, to hold complete possession of the country.

The next day, March 2d, the vanguard of our army stormed Casa Viejas. Having gained this small place, and stationed here a regiment, we continued our march on the 3d and 4th.

Early in the morning of the 5th, as the advanced guards of our cavalry had proceeded a short distance from the main army, they suddenly came upon a squadron of French troops. Unfortunately for them, several stone fences and enclosures prevented an immediate attack, so that the French had time to form into a square, and received their charge with great coolness and intrepidity. Their square was unbroken, although numbers had fallen on both sides. A second charge was equally unsuccessful, and the colonel of our cavalry was mortally wounded. Our men then judged it most prudent to fall back upon the main army, and no attempt was made to follow them by the enemy. An anxious look-out was instituted, but the foe did not again make his appearance, and at nine o’clock the same morning our commander took up his position on the heights of Barossa.

The hill of Barossa is a low ridge, creeping in from the coast about a mile and a half, and overlooking a high broken plain. On one side of this plain rise the huge coast cliffs, while the other is skirted by the deep forest of Chiclana. Directly in front, there lies a light pine wood, beyond which rises a long narrow height, called the Bermeja. There were two ways by which this might be reached; the first was through the woods, while the second was a narrow road directly under the coast cliffs.

I have already alluded to the fact, that, although the English and Spanish were fighting under the same banner, there was a great want of unanimity of feeling and opinion as to the course which ought to be pursued in ridding their country of their common foe. Nowhere, in the history of the war, was this more apparent than at the battle whose history I am about to relate. The deep-seated pride of the Spanish made them unwilling to acknowledge or yield to the superiority of the British, or hardly to allow that they were at all indebted to them. A modern traveller tells us that, in a recent history of this war, which was, not long since, published in Spain, the British are not even mentioned, nor the fact of their assistance at all alluded to. It was impossible for two nations so unlike in their customs and manners, so different in language, religion, and education, to be so closely associated together as they were obliged to be, without occasions of dispute constantly occurring, which would, probably, have terminated in open rupture, had not the discipline of war prevented.

The fact that our gallant general had ceded the chief command to the weak and imperious Spanish commander had occasioned no little dissatisfaction among our men; while, from the conditions required of him by Graham, we may judge that that general himself did not pursue this course because he judged La Pena his superior in military tactics. These conditions were, that his army should make short marches; that they should be kept fresh for battle, and that they should never approach the enemy except in concentrated masses. Although the Spanish general had pledged his word of honor that these conditions should be fulfilled, how much attention he paid to them may be judged from the fact, that, on the day but one preceding this, we had marched fifteen hours, through bad roads; and, after a short rest, had occupied the whole night in our march to Barossa. Before the troops had all arrived, or had any time for rest or refreshment, La Pena commanded the vanguard to march against San Petri, which lay about four miles distant. A detachment of the Spanish army, under Zayas, had, only two days before, commenced an intrenchment at this point; but had been surprised by the French, and driven back, so that the enemy now held possession of all the outposts down to the sea. But a short time had elapsed, after the departure of the vanguard, when we were startled by the roar of the artillery, whose rapid discharge, together with the quick volleys of musketry, showed us that a sharp engagement had already taken place. Lardizabal,—far more worthy of command than his superior,—notwithstanding the unfavorable situation in which he found himself placed, succeeded in forcing his way through the enemy’s troops, leaving three hundred men dead on the field of battle, and in effecting a junction with Zayas. Graham now endeavored to persuade La Pena to occupy the heights of Barossa, as a superior position to the Bermeja. The Spanish general not only refused to listen to his representations, but sent an immediate order to General Graham to march through the wood to Bermeja with all the British troops. This order he obeyed, although it was in opposition to his own better judgment, leaving only two detachments at Barossa, under Major Brown, to guard the baggage. He would have left a stronger force, had he not supposed that La Pena would remain in his present position, with his own troops, and would thus assist those detachments, in case of an attack. But scarcely had the British entered the wood, when La Pena, without the least notice to his colleague, with his whole army, took the sea road under the cliffs, and marched to San Petri, leaving Barossa crowded with baggage, within sight of the enemy, and guarded only by four guns and five battalions.

No sooner did Victor, the French general, observe its defenceless state, than he advanced with a rapid pace, and, ascending behind the hill, drove off the guard, and took possession of the whole stores and provisions of our army. Major Brown, finding his force wholly inadequate to face the enemy, slowly withdrew, having immediately despatched an aide-de-camp to inform General Graham of the attack. Our army had then nearly reached the Bermeja; but, as soon as the messenger arrived with the news, our general saw at once the necessity of taking the direction of affairs himself. Orders were immediately given to retrace our steps as rapidly as possible, that we might assist the Spanish army in its defence. Judge, then, of the astonishment of our general, on reaching the plain, at the view that presented itself! One side of the heights was occupied by the French, while the Spanish rear-guard was flying, with their baggage, in great confusion, on the other. On one side of us lay the cavalry of the French, and, on the other marching to the attack was a large body of troops, under Laval. “Where is La Pena?” was the first exclamation of our commander, as, casting his eye rapidly around, he could nowhere see the least trace of him. It was impossible that he could have been defeated. The cannonade would have been heard, or at least some fugitives have taken the direction of our army. Slowly the conviction forced itself upon his mind that he had been deserted. A general burst of indignation ran along our lines; but short time was allowed for feelings like these. Only one alternative existed,—a hasty retreat, or an immediate attack. It need hardly be said that Graham chose the latter.

Ten guns immediately opened their fire upon Laval’s troops, and were promptly answered back by the artillery of the French. No time was given to the British to form with any attention to regiments; but, hastily dividing themselves into two masses, they rushed to the attack. The charge on the left was, indeed, a furious one, for we felt that conquest or death was the alternative. It was bravely met, however, on the part of the French. After the first discharge of artillery, the soldiers pressed rapidly onward, and were soon mingled with the foe in fierce and deadly conflict. The front ranks of the French were pressed back upon the second line, which, unable to withstand the shock, was broken in the same manner, and scattered in much confusion, only the chosen battalion remaining to cover the retreat.