The Victories of Wellington and the British Armies

by W. H. Maxwell

On the same morning that the French marshals had examined the allied position, a strong cavalry force was detached from the enemy’s posts, to cross the Guadiana and move towards Elvas. Nothing would have particularly marked this demonstration, had not an English picket of sixty men, with three officers, been cut off and made prisoners, by mistaking the French for Portuguese dragoons. The absurd fancy indulged in at home, of imitating foreign patterns in clothing the cavalry, led to numerous mistakes; while it greatly embarrassed officers, in ascertaining correctly whether troops, when at a trifling distance, were in reality friends or foes.

For a month the French marshals remained together; their numerous cavalry scouring the face of the country to an immense extent, and wasting it of every thing that was convertible into sustenance for either men or horses. At last, these precarious supplies, obtained from an impoverished country, failed altogether; and Soult and Marmont retired from Estramadura,—the latter, marching northwards, and the former falling back upon Seville.

On this movement being made, Wellington instantly changed his quarters, first to Portalegre, and afterwards to Fuente Guinaldo. The occupation of the posts and villages contiguous to Ciudad Rodrigo, must, of necessity, cut off from that garrison every chance of a casual supply; while the distance of the French cantonments (sixty miles) would make it impossible for either of the marshals to introduce a convoy, unless it were accompanied and protected by an entire corps d’armée. Wellington had calculated on these difficulties; his plans were soundly conceived; and they were carried out with that steady resolution, which has always characterized the greatest general that Britain ever claimed.

As had been anticipated, Ciudad Rodrigo became exceedingly straitened; and the French marshals, at great inconvenience, were obliged to concentrate at Salamanca, to cover the introduction of supplies, which at every cost, must be thrown into the fortress. Rumour, of course, was busy; one report making them fifty thousand, and another swelling their numbers to eighty. The allied general, however, determined to retain his cantonments; and the position of Guinaldo was strengthened by field-works; while the different divisions were posted so as to admit of speedy concentration. On the right bank of the Agueda, the light division guarded the Sierra de Gata,—while Picton held the more advanced position of El Bodon.

The position was too extensive to be strong—and its communications were liable to interruption, as the fords of the Agueda were frequently rendered impassable by sudden rains. The heights of El Bodon and Pastores were on either side encircled by plains, partially wooded, and reaching from Rodrigo to the Coa. Hence, the position was unsafe; for, if its flanks were turned, the retirement of a corps that held it on Guinaldo, would have become a very doubtful matter.

On the 23rd, the French moved forward from Tamames, and reconnoitred the British position; and on the next day they pushed a convoy into Badajoz, protected by four divisions of infantry and six thousand cavalry. On the 25th, the English pickets were driven across the Azava—while crossing the Agueda in great force, Montbrun moved directly on Guinaldo, and turned the heights on which Picton’s division had been posted. Considerably detached, as from the extent of the position the British regiments necessarily were, their situation became all but desperate. Picton, with the right brigade, was at El Bodon; two regiments at Pastores; while the 5th and 77th British, the 21st Portuguese, two brigades of guns, and three squadrons of German and English cavalry, occupied the height over which the Guinaldo road passes.

Lord Wellington ordered up assistance, on perceiving how dangerously the third division was circumstanced; but before any reached the scene of action, its own and often-tried resource had saved it,—the daring gallantry, that neither an isolated situation nor an overwhelming enemy could disturb.

The advance of the French cavalry was beautiful; the sun shone brilliantly out, and as their numerous squadrons, in long array, approached the heights occupied by the British infantry, nothing could be more imposing than their military attitude.[149] The cool and steady determination with which Colville’s brigade waited the enemy’s attack was truly British. While the French masses were defiling along the road, the English infantry remained in columns of battalions behind the ridge, and the cavalry stood dismounted—each dragoon with the bridle on his arm, and apparently as careless to coming events, as if he were on the parade-ground of his barrack, waiting for the trumpet call to “fall in.” But when the advanced squadrons were about to mount the ridge, the infantry formed line; the dragoons sprang to their saddles; and the artillery, which had occasionally cannonaded the hostile squadrons as they came within their range, opened with additional spirit, and poured from the height a torrent of grape and case shot that occasioned a serious loss to the enemy.

The French appeared to feel sensibly the effect produced by the fire, and a brigade cheered and charged up the heights. The men stood by their guns to the last, but eventually they were obliged to retire—and the French dragoons gained the battery, and the cannon were taken.

Their possession by the enemy was but for a moment. The 5th regiment came steadily forward in line, and after delivering a shattering volley, lowered their bayonets, and boldly advanced to charge the cavalry. This—the first instance of horsemen being assailed by infantry in line—was brilliantly successful. The French were hurried down the height—and the guns recaptured, were limbered up, and brought away.