AFFAIR UPON THE COA.—FALL OF ALMEIDA.
Action of the Coa.—Almeida besieged.—Great magazine blows up.—Place surrenders.—Wellington falls back behind the Mondego.—Romana defeated by Mortier.
While the siege of Ciudad Rodrigo was in progress, the light division, under General Craufurd, after falling back on the fifth, took up a position on the line of the Azava. From the contiguity of the enemy, the greatest vigilance was necessary. The pickets extended from Carpia to the junction of the Azava and Agueda; and the outpost duty devolved upon the Germans, with a part of the 16th light dragoons. Craufurd was particularly directed to avoid a battle—and, in the event of Soult advancing, he was instructed to give way at once, and retire across the river. A strict obedience to the letter of his orders was not among the qualities for which Craufurd was remarkable; and whether he supposed from his position being under the guns of Almeida, that it would be respected by the French, or that he had determined to resist the forward movement of the enemy, although apprised on the 21st that the French were advancing, and that Fort Conception had been abandoned and blown up, he declined passing the Coa, and formed the light division in line, his left resting on Almeida, and his right and rear covered by the river.
At break of day on the 24th, an entire corps, amounting to eighteen thousand men, of whom three thousand five hundred were cavalry, with a powerful artillery, attacked the centre of the position.[104] The pickets between Villamula and Almeida were driven back—and retired before overpowering numbers, skirmishing in beautiful order, and disputing every inch of ground. An extensive plain stretched from Villamula to the Coa, intersected by walls and enclosures, and, of course, afforded a fine field for light infantry manœuvres. Of this advantage the British availed themselves; and every fence and hedge were obstinately maintained, until, oppressed by numbers, they were reluctantly yielded to the enemy.
The centre was now seriously attacked, and though the 95th and Portuguese caçadores fought gallantly, Craufurd perceived that he could not hold his ground, and determined to cross the river, beyond which his cavalry and guns had already retired. A bridge over the Coa was the only route by which he could retreat—and it lay completely exposed to a sweeping fire from the French artillery. However, there was no alternative; the infantry moved off in echelons by its left,—and though furiously assailed, succeeded in crossing to the other bank.
The irregularity of the ground, and the frequency and height of the enclosures, rendered an orderly retreat almost impracticable; but the operation was boldly and coolly executed. To prevent the French from forcing the bridge, and allow time for the regiments to reform, the 43rd and 95th were drawn up in front of the pass, and directed to oppose to the last every attempt that the French should make to cross it.[105] The enemy seemed equally determined; and having collected an imposing force, a fierce and well-sustained attack produced one of the most desperate and sanguinary encounters which the annals of modern warfare record.
“The French skirmishers, swarming on the right bank, opened a biting fire, which was returned as bitterly; the artillery on both sides played across the ravine, the sounds were repeated by numberless echoes, and the smoke, rising slowly, resolved itself into an immense arch, spanning the whole chasm, and sparkling with the whirling fuzees of the flying shells. The enemy gathered fast and thickly; his columns were discovered forming behind the high rocks, and a dragoon was seen to try the depth of the stream above, but two shots from the 52nd killed horse and man, and the carcases, floating between the hostile bands, showed that the river was impassable. The monotonous tones of a French drum were then heard, and in another instant, the head of a noble column was at the long narrow bridge. A drummer and an officer, in a splendid uniform, leaped forward together, and the whole rushed on with loud cries. The depth of the ravine at first deceived the soldiers’ aim, and two-thirds of the passage was won ere an English shot had brought down an enemy; yet a few paces onwards the line of death was traced, and the whole of the leading French section fell as one man! Still the gallant column pressed forward, but no foot could pass that terrible line; the killed and wounded rolled together until the heap rose nearly even with the parapet, and the living mass behind melted away rather than give back.
“The shouts of the British now rose loudly, but they were confidently answered, and, in half an hour, a second column, more numerous than the first, again crowded the bridge. This time, however, the range was better judged, and ere half the distance was won, the multitude was again torn, shattered, dispersed and slain; ten or twelve men only succeeded in crossing, and took shelter under the rocks at the brink of the river.”[106]
Night came—and the light division, after its heroic resistance against an overwhelming force, retreated, under cover of the darkness, to a position three leagues from Averca. The night march was made in perfect order; the artillery brought safely off; the field equipage removed; and though Massena, in his despatches, spoke of colours and cannon having been taken, not a trophy nor a gun was abandoned by Craufurd, and a loss fully as severe as what he suffered, was inflicted on the enemy in return. Colonel Hall, who had arrived but the preceding day from England to join the 43rd, fell in this affair—and about three hundred and fifty were returned as killed, wounded, and missing.