ALBUERA,
16 May 1811
Wellington
had brought the battle of Fuentes de Oñoro to a successful, if not an
entirely satisfactory, conclusion on the evening of May 5th 1811. Earlier
that same day, some 130 miles to the south, Beresford had begun to lay
siege to the fortress of Badajoz in what was to be the first of three
sieges of the place. No sooner had the preliminary operations got underway
than Beresford received news that Soult was on his way from Seville to
relieve the place with around 25,000 troops. On May 13th
Beresford marched south with 32,000 British, Portuguese and Spanish
troops, the British contingent numbering about 7,000, and on May 15th
reached the small town of Albuera. Here he was destined to fight one of
the bloodiest and most desperate battles of the war. The Allied
troops were positioned along a series of gentle heights that run north to
south, parallel with the river Albuera that lays just to the east. In the
front centre of the Allied line lay the town of Albuera itself. Soult's
army approached from the south-east and on the morning of May 16th drew up
facing west. Initial French attacks were directed upon the town of Albuera
itself which was held by Alten's Germans although these attacks were never
really pressed home with any real conviction. Neither were the subsequent
probes by the 5,600 men of Werle's infantry brigade just to the south of
the bridge over the Albuera river that lay just outside the town.
However,
away to the right of the Allied line, which was held by Blake's Spaniards,
a real and very dangerous threat was developing. The river Albuera was
easily fordable in several places, even by guns, and Soult had managed to
get nineteen battalions of infantry across as well as a large number of
cavalry, all of whom had managed to approach the Allied right flank
without being seen on account of the area being heavily wooded. These
troops debouched from the woods, much to the alarm of Beresford who
immediately ordered Blake to face south to meet them, the British 2nd
Division being sent as support. Beresford then rode off in blissful
ignorance for Blake, still convinced that the main French attack would be
delivered from the east, ignored the order and instead deployed just four
of his battalions to meet the French attack from the south.
These
flimsy four battalions were hardly sufficient to face even a similar
number of French battalions let alone the overwhelming and overpowering
force now bearing down upon them. In fact, Soult had launched an infantry
attack the like of which had yet to be seen in the Peninsular War, nor
would it be seen again, for no less than 8,400 French infantry, two full
divisions, were advancing on the Allied right flank which, if it
disintegrated, would allow Soult to roll up the Allied line. Contrary to
their usual behaviour, the Spaniards held firm and even brought the
leading French division to a halt. This was achieved purely by the weight
of lead fired into the French columns. Once again their formation,
although numerically stronger, prevented them from bringing anything like
the number of muskets to bear that the Spaniards, standing in a three-deep
line, could. The Spaniards were also supported by Sir John Colborne's
brigade of Stewart's 2nd Division which opened fire on the left flank of
the French column. This unauthorised move - Beresford had originally
ordered Stewart to form his brigades behind the Spaniards - was successful
at first but soon afterwards a terrible tragedy occurred which was one of
the bloodiest and notorious disasters of the war suffered by any of
Wellington's troops.
At about
10.30am Colborne's brigade, consisting of the 1/3rd, 2/31st, 2/48th and
2/66th Regiments, stood in the firing line, pouring out a withering fire
into the left flank of the attacking French columns. Five minutes later
most of them lay dead, dying or wounded following an attack of deadly
efficiency by some of the most feared cavalry in Europe. As Colborne's men
stood blazing away a thunderstorm that had threatened all morning finally
broke, the inky-black skies opening up with sheets of rain that swept over
the battlefield. The British infantrymen's muskets were quickly rendered
useless and as the rain lashed down into their faces the soaked redcoats
failed to see two regiments of enemy cavalry that were bearing down on
them, using the sudden downpour as a screen. Caught in line and unable to
form square the infantry were an easy target for the cavalry who happened
to be Polish Lancers, armed with a fearsome weapon hardly ever seen by the
British and a superb killing instrument that enabled the bearer to kill
with little fear to himself. It was also a weapon from which there was
little escape, it being just as easy to thrust down and kill someone on
the ground as it was to kill a man standing. The Polish Lancers dealt
death all around them, violently and quickly, and when they withdrew just
a few minutes later 1,300 out of Colborne's 1,600 men had been either
killed or wounded in the carnage. Even
Beresford himself was not spared during this savage attack, the Allied
commander being forced to defend himself with his bare hands when a Polish
lancer thrust at him. Beresford, a strong man, parried the lance and threw
his would-be assailant to the ground. Six guns were also lost during the
attack although all but one were later recovered.
With
Colborne's brigade all but gone Beresford turned to the two other brigades
of the 2nd Division, namely those of Abercrombie and Hoghton, to replace
them as well as Zayas' Spaniards who themselves had suffered thirty per
cent casualties during the morning's fighting. The two fresh brigades
numbered about 3,700 men who now bore the brunt of the attack by the two
French divisions, some 7,800 strong. The two sides closed with each other
and engaged in a ferocious fire fight at almost point-blank range, both
sides firing blind through the smoke as they unloaded huge quantities of
lead into each other's ranks. The deficiency in British numbers was more
than made up for by their formation. The fire from their two-deep line
enveloped the heads of the French columns although this in turn was
countered by French artillery that was served with deadly efficiency.
Few writers
have been able to surpass the magnificent descriptions of Fortescue and
Napier who described the ensuing butchery as if they had been present
themselves. The former wrote, `Survivors who took part in this fight on
the British side seem to have passed through it as if in a dream,
conscious of nothing but dense smoke, constant closing towards the centre,
a slight tendency to advance, and an invincible resolution not to retire.'
The slaughter lasted for over an hour, the two sides blasting away at each
other like two prize fighters, neither refusing to admit defeat. British
stubbornness could not win the battle on its own, however, and French
numbers began to tell.
It was just
after midday and the crisis point of the battle had arrived. Carlos de
Espana's Spanish Brigade refused to be brought forward into the firing
line whilst the two British brigades began to thin alarmingly. At this
point, Lowry Cole, without orders from Beresford, brought forward his 4th
Division, consisting of some 4,000 British and Portuguese troops, and in
so doing turned the tide of the battle. Cole advanced in a long line
almost a mile in length with the flanks protected by a square of light
companies on the right and the Lusitanian Legion on the left. After
repulsing several French cavalry charges his men closed with the enemy and
when the 4th Division linked up with the battered survivors of Stewart's
2nd Division they formed a line which wrapped around the flanks of the
French columns. Another ferocious fire fight followed during which both
sides stood and traded volleys with each other until finally the French
columns began to stagger backwards, the men reeling under the weight of
the terrific British musketry. William Myers, commanding the three
battalions of fusiliers, was quick to detect this wavering and ordered the
fusiliers, the 1/7th, 2/7th and 1/23rd, to charge.
The
fusiliers obeyed the order with some relief as it freed them from the hell
that was erupting all around them. Their relief was short-lived though,
for just as they took their first steps forward they were hit by a storm
of grape shot that scythed down scores of them. William Napier, the master
of Peninsular prose, wrote, `the fusilier battalions, struck by the iron
tempest, reeled and staggered like sinking ships; but suddenly and sternly
recovering they closed on their terrible enemies, and then was seen with
what a strength and majesty the British soldier fights.' The fusiliers
advanced with a grim determination which was too much for the already
decimated ranks of exhausted Frenchmen. They had seen an apparent victory
snatched from them and were unwilling to endure any more punishment.
Gradually, the columns began to dissolve as the French streamed to the
rear leaving the equally battered and bloodied British troops `triumphant
on that fatal hill!'
There was
no more fighting during the afternoon and heavy rain brought the curtain
down on four hours of terrible and bloody fighting. The battle of Albuera
had resulted in a British victory mainly due to the stubborn British
infantry who refused to recognise defeat even when it was staring them in
the face. `No-one could stop that astonishing infantry', wrote Napier, and
he was right. They had stood trading lead with their brave French
counterparts until the latter could take no more. As Soult later observed
of the victors, `the day was mine, and they did not know it, and would not
run.' Nearly 6,000 Allied dead and wounded was the price paid for this
glory, a fact that brought Beresford in for much criticism, not only for
his handling of the battle but also his choice of positions to begin with.
The French themselves suffered around 7,000 in what was one of the
bloodiest battles of the war. The end
result of all this butchery was that Soult, like Massena at Fuentes de Oñoro,
had failed to achieve the object of his plan, namely to relieve a
beleaguered French garrison, in this case Badajoz to which Wellington was
about to turn his attention. The subsequent siege in June 1811 was a
dismal failure, however, and it would be almost another year before the
town fell, spectacularly and infamously, into Wellington's hands.
We'd like to thank
Ian Fletcher, renowned military author on the Peninsula and Waterloo, for
his contribution to our website.
