A history of the Peninsular War, Vol. 5, Oct. 1811-Aug. 31, 1812

by Charles Oman

The French light cavalry, which had been much mauled on the preceding day, and was evidently in no fighting mood, gave way precipitately before the attack of the Light Dragoons, and rode off in confusion to their own right rear. There was no time for Bock’s Germans to come up with them: but the leading squadrons of the 1st Heavy Dragoons of the Legion, pushing on in pursuit, received, to their surprise, a heavy volley in their flank from a French battalion in square, which they had not noticed in their advance.

There were, in fact, two regiments of infantry to the right of the routed chasseurs, and by the sudden flight of their comrades they found themselves suddenly uncovered and engaged. They were the 6th Léger and 76th Line, each two battalions strong, and counting together about 2,400 bayonets. Of these the unit nearest the cavalry was a battalion of the 76th in square: it was the fire of this body which had struck the leading German squadron in flank, and thrown it into disorder as it was charging the routed French horse. Farther to the east were the other battalion of the 76th and the two of the 6th Léger, on the slopes above the road, which here winds below the small eminence which the French cavalry had occupied and the hill of La Serna, a long and fairly steep height, which gives its name in many histories to the combat that ensued.

What followed on the unexpected discovery of the French infantry was the effect not of Wellington’s direct orders, nor of the leading of the short-sighted Bock, who had hardly realized the situation when his subordinates were already making their decision. It was entirely the exploit of the gallant squadron-leaders of the two regiments of German dragoons. They were coming up in a sort of échelon of squadrons, the first regiment leading, so that when the fire of the French square struck and disordered the leading unit, the responsibility for action fell on the officers commanding the others. Captain von der Decken who led the 3rd squadron determined without hesitation to charge the French square—his men were already getting up speed, and the enemy was but a short distance from him. Shouting to the squadron to throw forward its right wing and ride home, he led it straight at the French. The first fire of the square, delivered at eighty yards, brought down several men and horses, and wounded (mortally as it proved in the end) von der Decken himself. He kept his saddle, however, and only fell when the second fire was given, at twenty yards range. This volley was destructive, but did not break the impetus of the squadron, which charged right home. In most cases where cavalry reached the bayonets of a square during the Peninsular War, it had proved unable to break in, and had recoiled with loss—like Craufurd’s squadrons at the combat of Barquilla[604], and Montbrun’s at Fuentes de Oñoro. Here, however, the rare feat of riding down well-formed infantry was performed—it is said by several eye-witnesses that the breach was originally made by a mortally-wounded horse, which reared right on top of the kneeling front rank of the French, and then rolled over kicking, and bore down six or eight men at once. Several dragoons leapt the bank of struggling and overthrown soldiers, and broke into the rear ranks—thereupon the whole square fell to pieces in disorder. Many of the Frenchmen were hewn down, but the majority dropped their muskets and surrendered unhurt. The lists of prisoners at the Record Office give the names of sixteen officers of the 76th sent to England, of whom only two were wounded. Of the rank and file not more than fifty, it is said, got away[605]. Observers who came on the field later in the day noted with curiosity the long lines of muskets laid down in orderly rows. This was an astonishing achievement for a single squadron of 120 men—they had captured or cut down five times their own numbers of veteran troops of Ney’s old 6th Corps.

Some way to the right of this unlucky battalion were two more, forming the 6th Léger. Seeing the havoc made of his comrades, and noting the remaining squadrons of the Germans sweeping across the slope toward him, the colonel of this regiment ordered his men to retreat uphill and climb the steep slope behind. He hoped to get upon ground where cavalry could not easily follow. The two battalions, still in column, for they had not (like the 76th) formed square, moved hastily upwards: the voices of officers were heard shouting, ’allongez le pas, gagnons la hauteur[606].’ The nearest enemy to them was the second squadron of the 1st Dragoons K.G.L., led by Captain von Reizenstein, who put on the pace when he saw the French scrambling higher, and came up with the rearmost battalion before it was very far from the road. The two rear companies faced about when the dragoons drew near, and delivered a fire that was fairly effective, when it is considered that the men had been going as hard as they could trot, and were halted and put into action at a second’s notice. But it did not suffice to stop the dragoons, who rode in, at the cost of many killed and wounded, and cut up the companies that had stood to meet them: many men were sabred, more taken prisoners. The rear of the column, however, scrambled uphill in a mass, and there joined the other battalion of the 6th Léger, which formed square on the sky-line. They had on their flank a squadron or so of chasseurs, apparently a fragment of the brigade that had given way so easily before Anson’s attack twenty minutes before.

Against this mass charged the leading squadrons of the 2nd Heavy Dragoons K.G.L., which had at last come up to the front, and some of the officers and men of the 1st, who had already done such good work lower down the hill. The French square was not perfect or regular—apparently it was disordered by the fugitives from the broken battalion, who ran in for shelter, and formed up as best they could. The charge of the Germans was delivered with splendid impetus—though the regiment had been galloping for 300 yards uphill—and was completely successful. The French chasseurs rode off without engaging: the ill-formed square crumpled up: many of the men threw down their arms and surrendered, the rest dispersed and ran in coveys along the slopes of the plateau, towards the nearest friendly troops. These were the four battalions of the 39th and 69th Line, the surviving regiments of the division. Foy himself was in one of the squares; his surviving brigadier, Chemineau, in the other.

Intoxicated with the glorious successes that they had gained, a large but disordered mass of the victorious dragoons rode after the fugitives, and charged the nearest of the French squares—one of the 69th Line. The enemy held firm, their fire was given with effect, and killed the officer who led this last effort (Captain von Uslar) and many of his men. The rest swerved back, and rode away under a pelting fire from the battalion that they had attacked and from the other three, which lay close on its flank.

So ended the charge of Garcia Hernandez, the most dashing and successful attack made by any of Wellington’s cavalry during the whole war, as Foy—the best of witnesses—formally states in his history[607]. Though not more destructive in its results than Le Marchant’s onslaught on Maucune at Salamanca, it was a far more difficult affair. For Le Marchant had charged troops not in square, and already shaken by conflict with Leith’s division; while the Germans attacked without any infantry support, and fell upon intact battalions, of which two at least had formed square. Moreover, the French were supported by artillery and cavalry, though the former cleared off promptly, and the latter allowed themselves to be routed very easily by Anson’s squadrons. Altogether it was a glorious first experience of war for the Heavy Dragoons—neither of the regiments had ever charged before, and they had seen but a little skirmishing during the six months since their arrival at Lisbon. They were duly granted the battle-honour, ‘Garcia Hernandez,’ which they continued to bear on their guidons as long as Hanover was an independent state. Two Hanoverian cavalry regiments of to-day in the Prussian army continue to show it, as theoretical heirs of the old Heavy Dragoons. The most astonishing feature of the exploit was that it was the sole work of the squadron-leaders—Wellington had only given the general order to attack—Bock had been with the fraction of the 1st Dragoons which charged along with Anson, and was not directing the marvellous uphill ride. It was a regimental triumph, not an exhibition of cavalry tactics by the Commander-in-Chief or the brigadier[608].

The losses of the victors were very heavy—the 1st Regiment had 2 officers and 28 men killed, 2 other officers wounded (one—von der Decken—mortally), and 37 men. The 2nd Regiment lost 1 officer (von Uslar) killed, with 21 men, and 1 officer and 29 men wounded. In this total the striking figure is the high proportion of killed to wounded—52 to 69—which bears witness to the murderous power of the old musket-ball when delivered point-blank, into the bodies of men who were pressing right up to the muzzles of the infantry in square. There were six men missing to be added to the total of losses—127 in all—whether these were individuals who were taken prisoners in the last attempt to break the square of the 69th, or whether they were mortally wounded men, whose horses carried them far from the scene of action and whose bodies were not found, it is impossible to say. The loss of 127 officers and men out of about 770 present was, however, by no means disproportionately heavy, when the results of the charge are considered.