Chapter XXXI: Section XVI: Chapter VII (1)

THE BATTLE OF TALAVERA: THE MAIN ENGAGEMENT

(JULY 28)

The informal armistice which had followed the combat of the early morning had drawn to an end, when at about 10 o’clock the British observers on the Cerro de Medellin saw a large and brilliant staff riding along the French line from right to left. It finally halted, and took post on the most commanding point of the Cascajal heights. This was the entourage of King Joseph and Marshal Jourdan, who had determined to make a careful examination of the allied lines before committing themselves to any further action. When they halted on the summit of the hill, from which the best general view was obtainable, Victor came to meet them, and a council of war was held.

It soon developed into a lengthy and animated dispute; lasting for more than an hour. Jourdan was of opinion that, considering the strength of the hostile position, and the decisive way in which the 1st Corps had been repulsed, it would be unwise to proceed with another attack. He pointed out that Wellesley would now be perfectly aware that his left was the point which must be assailed, and that movements visible behind the British line showed that it was already being reinforced. The only good move now available was to endeavour to turn the Cerro by the little valley to its north-east, which separates it from the Sierra de Segurilla: but it was clear that the enemy realized this as well as themselves. A considerable body of cavalry was already appearing at its southern end. If the Duke of Belluno, instead of delivering two frontal assaults, had been prudent enough to push men down this valley under cover of the darkness, so as to have a lateral attack ready at dawn, something might have been done. But now the imperial troops would have to win the valley by hard fighting, before they could use it as a starting-point for the assault on the hill. If a general attack were delivered, and the army were once more repulsed, it risked its line of communication and its retreat on Madrid. For the whole Spanish host might come out of the woods and fall upon its flank, while it was engaged with the British, and in that case the Madrid road would be cut, and the King would have to retreat on Avila, sacrificing his capital and his arsenals. On the whole Jourdan held that it would be wise and prudent to assume a defensive posture, and either to hold the present position or to retire to the more favourable ground behind the Alberche, four miles to the rear. In a few days the enemy would hear of Soult’s operations upon their line of communication, and would be forced to break up and retire.

Very different, as might have been expected, were Victor’s views. He declared that the British position was far from impregnable, and that the prestige of the French army would be destroyed if it retired, after two partial checks, from in front of an enemy who had not been seriously attacked. The only fault in the preceding operations had been that the whole army had not joined in, at the moment when the Cerro had been stormed. If the King would undertake to use the 4th Corps against the allied centre, he pledged himself to break their right with his own three divisions of infantry. He would not only assail the Cerro from in front, but would turn it from both flanks. If such an attack did not succeed _il faudrait renoncer à faire la guerre_. This phrase he dinned into Joseph’s and Jourdan’s ears so repeatedly that they both saved it up for future use, and taunted him with it in the acrimonious correspondence which followed the battle.

King Joseph would have preferred to follow Jourdan’s cautious plan, and to hold back. Sebastiani, whose opinion he asked, agreed with him. But both seem to have been terrorized by the Marshal’s stormy tirades, and still more by the thought of what the Emperor would say, if he heard that battle had been refused, contrary to Victor’s advice. The ultimate decision was still in the balance, when two pieces of news were received: the first was a dispatch from General Valence, the Governor of Toledo, to effect that the army of Venegas, whose position had hitherto been unknown--for nothing had been heard of him since Sebastiani had escaped from his front--had at last come on the scene. His advanced guard had presented itself before the bridges of Toledo, and was already skirmishing there. The second item of intelligence was a dispatch from Soult, acknowledging the receipt of the orders which had been sent to him upon the twenty-second, and stating his intention of carrying them out at the earliest possible moment. But he complained that the promised train of artillery had not yet reached the 2nd Corps, and declared that he could not move till it had come to hand, and till he had brought down the 6th Corps from Astorga. He was therefore of opinion that he could not possibly reach Plasencia till August 3, perhaps not till two days later.

This news was decisive: it was now clear that the Duke of Dalmatia would not be able to bring pressure to bear upon the rear of the allies for some six or seven days. Meanwhile Venegas was within two marches of Madrid, and had nothing in front of him save the four Polish battalions at Toledo. If the King refused to fight, and took up a defensive position on the Alberche, he would have to detach 15,000 men to hold back the army of La Mancha from the capital. This would leave him with only 30,000 men to resist Wellesley and Cuesta, and it was clear that such a force would be overmatched by the allies. If he kept a larger number in their front, Venegas would be able to capture Madrid, the thing of all others which Joseph was resolved to prevent. Accordingly the King and Jourdan reluctantly fell in with Victor’s plans, and consented to fight in the afternoon. If they defeated the British and the Estremadurans on the twenty-eighth, the army of La Mancha could easily be disposed of upon the twenty-ninth or thirtieth.

This decision once made, it only remained to settle the details of the attack. The King determined to assail the British centre and right with the infantry of Sebastiani’s corps--twenty-three battalions in all, or some 14,000 men. Victor with the three infantry divisions of the 1st Corps--thirty-three battalions, still over 16,000 strong in spite of their losses--undertook to fall upon the English left, to storm the Cerro de Medellin and also to turn it on its northern side, so as to envelop Wellesley’s flank. The Spaniards were to be left alone behind their walls and orchards--only Milhaud’s dragoons were told off to watch the exits from Talavera. Of the rest of the cavalry a few could be utilized in Victor’s turning movement in the valley below the Sierra de Segurilla: but the main body--all Beaumont’s and Latour-Maubourg’s eight regiments--were ranged in a second line, to act as a reserve for the frontal attack of the infantry, and to aid it if it were checked. The King’s Guards and the brigade of Dessolles were to be kept back, and only utilized to clinch the victory or to retrieve a repulse.

The 30,000 men who were to deliver the grand assault on the allied position were drawn up as follows. Leval’s Germans advanced on the left, taking as their objective the battery on the Pajar de Vergara. They faced Campbell’s British division, and slightly overlapped it, so as to cover the three or four battalions on the extreme northern wing of Cuesta’s line. In their rear as supports followed the two Polish battalions from Valence’s division. On Leval’s right, Sebastiani’s four French regiments continued the line: this was the strongest division on the field and counted over 8,000 bayonets. It faced the Guards and the right battalion of Cameron’s brigade. Here ended the troops of the 4th Corps: beyond them Victor’s 2nd division, that of Lapisse, was about to assail the German Legion and Cameron’s left-hand regiment, the 83rd. Still further north Villatte’s division lay opposite the steepest slopes of the Cerro de Medellin. This position looked more formidable in the eyes of the Duke of Belluno since he had seen his first two assaults upon it fail. It was now heavily manned: Tilson’s, Richard Stewart’s, and Donkin’s brigades were all visible upon its crest. After some hesitation the Marshal resolved to leave it alone for the present, and not to attack it till some impression should have been made upon other parts of Wellesley’s line. Accordingly he left in front of it only Villatte’s second brigade--the six battalions of the 94th and 95th regiments. The other brigade--the 27th and 63rd--was directed to join in the flanking movement to the north of the Cerro, which was to encompass Wellesley’s extreme left. But the main force told off for this advance consisted of the much-tried remnants of Ruffin’s division, now not more than 3,700 strong. The employment of these troops for such a critical operation seems to have been a mistake--they had already received two bloody checks, and had lost more than a third of their officers and 1,500 men in the late fighting. Though good regiments, they could now be considered as little more than ‘a spent force.’ This fact sufficiently explains the feebleness of the French advance upon this part of the field during the afternoon hours.

Behind the French infantry of the 4th and 1st Corps were deployed no less than twelve regiments of horse: Latour-Maubourg’s three brigades of dragoons were drawn up in the rear of Lapisse and Sebastiani: Beaumont supported Villatte, and lastly the four regiments of Merlin’s (late Lasalle’s) division followed Ruffin in his turning movement. Far to the rear Dessolles and Joseph’s Guards took up a position facing the British centre, from which they could support the right or the left of their own front line as might be necessary.

The drawing up of this line of battle took time, and while the French were shifting their positions and establishing their new front, Wellesley had ample leisure to provide against the oncoming storm. He had established himself upon the crest of the Cerro, and from thence could overlook every movement of the enemy. Of the new dispositions the only one which struck him as likely to cause trouble was the extension of Ruffin and Villatte to the northward. It was clear that they were intending to advance up the valley that separates the Sierra de Segurilla from the Cerro de Medellin, in order to take the hill in the flank, and assail the 2nd Division from the side. It was therefore necessary to make arrangements for checking this manœuvre. Wellesley’s first order was that Fane’s and Anson’s cavalry should move round the back of the Cerro, and take up new ground at the head of the valley. From this position they would be able to charge in the flank any force that might push up the trough of the depression, in order to get behind Hill’s line. He also withdrew half Rettberg’s battery from the front of the height, and placed it on a projecting lateral spur from which it could enfilade the valley. Nor were these his only precautions; he sent a hasty message to Cuesta, pointing out that the greater part of the Spanish line was not threatened, and asking if he could spare reinforcements for the left wing. The Spanish general behaved in a more liberal fashion than might have been expected from his previous conduct. He consented to lend Wellesley his reserve division, that of Bassecourt, about 5,000 strong, and also put at his disposition a battery of twelve-pounders, heavier guns than any which the British army possessed. The French were so slow in moving that there was ample time, before the battle grew hot, to send Bassecourt’s division round the rear of the British line, and to place it on the lower slopes of the Sierra de Segurilla, so as to continue to the northward the front formed by the British cavalry. Of the Spanish guns placed at Wellesley’s disposition, four were put into the Pajar de Vergara redoubt, by the side of Lawson’s battery: the other two accompanied Bassecourt’s infantry, and were placed on the northern spur of the Cerro de Medellin, near Rettberg’s six-pounders. Somewhat later the Duke of Albuquerque brought round the whole of his cavalry division--six regiments and a horse-artillery battery--to the same quarter, and drew them up in two lines to the rear of Anson’s and Fane’s brigades. But before he arrived the battle had already begun.

When the whole of the French infantry was ready, at about two o’clock in the afternoon, the King gave orders for the artillery to open, and eighty guns of the 1st and 4th Corps began to play upon the British line. In some places the troops were only some 600 yards from the enemy’s batteries, and the loss in many regiments was very appreciable before a single musket had been fired. Only thirty British and six Spanish pieces could reply: they were overwhelmed from the first by the superior number of the French guns. It was therefore with joy that Wellesley’s infantry saw that the artillery engagement was not to last for long. All along the hostile line the battalion-columns of Ruffin, Lapisse, Sebastiani, and Leval were moving up to the attack, and when they reached the front, and threw out their screen of tirailleurs, the guns grew silent. Only from the Cerro de Cascajal, where Villatte was hanging back in obedience to Victor’s orders, did the cannonade against Hill’s brigades continue.

The first troops to come into collision with the allies were Leval’s Germans, upon the extreme left of the French line. This, it is said, was contrary to the King’s orders; he had intended to hold this division somewhat back, as it was in danger of being outflanked by the Spaniards if it made a premature advance[657]. But Leval had a tangled terrain of vines and olive groves in his front: when once he had entered it he lost sight of the troops on his right, and fearing to be late on account of the obstacles in his front, committed the opposite fault. He came rushing in upon Campbell’s outpost line half an hour before the other divisions had closed with the British centre, the time being then 2.30 in the afternoon.

[657] See Jourdan’s _Mémoires_, p. 260.

The nine battalions of the German division were arrayed in a single line of battalion columns[658], with a thick screen of tirailleurs in their front. But their order had been so much broken up by the walls and thickets that the 4,500 bayonets appeared to the British like one confused mass of skirmishers. They came on fast and furiously, chasing the pickets of the 7th and 53rd before them, till they emerged into the comparatively open ground in front of the Pajar de Vergara[659]. Here the defence was standing ready for them: Campbell had brought up one battalion of his rear brigade into his front line, so that the 40th, as well as the 53rd and 7th, were facing the attack. On his right lay the redoubt with its ten guns: further to the south the two left-hand units of the French division were opposed to troops of Cuesta’s army. Hence it came that while the Nassau and Dutch regiments faced the British infantry, the Baden regiment was in front of the guns, while the Hessians and the Frankfort battalion had to do with the Spaniards.

[658] Their order from left to right was as follows:
Frankfort-Hesse (two batts.), Baden (two batts.), Holland (two
batts.), Nassau (two batts.).

[659] There is a legend which occurs in all French narratives of
Talavera--starting with the contemporary accounts, and including
Desprez’s and Jourdan’s _Mémoires_. It is to the effect that
Leval’s division, in its first advance, came upon an English
battalion, which several writers call the 45th, lying in front
of the rest of the allied line. It is alleged that the Nassau
regiment surrounded and almost captured it--that they would have
taken it prisoner indeed _en masse_, if the troops on their
left (Holland and Baden) had held firm. But at least ‘on lui
prit une centaine d’hommes, le major, le lieutenant-colonel, et
le colonel--ce dernier mourut de ses blessures’ (Jourdan). No
such incident can have occurred, for (1) no English regiment
lost more than twenty-one ‘missing’ on this side of the field.
(2) No English officer of higher rank than a captain was taken
prisoner in the battle. (3) Only one officer was killed in the
whole of Campbell’s division, and he was a lieutenant of the 7th
Fusiliers. (4) The 45th was not engaged with Leval’s men, but lay
to the left and supported the Guards in resisting Sebastiani: it
lost one officer (a captain) and twelve men missing, but this
was in the great _mêlée_ in the centre, at the end of the day’s
fighting: it had no officer killed. I am driven to conclude
that the whole is some gross exaggeration of the surprise of
Campbell’s pickets in the vineyards, and that instead of a
‘battalion’ we should read the light companies of the division.
Cooper of the 7th Fusiliers, who was in the skirmishing line,
says that the Germans got close among them by calling out
‘Españoles’ and pretending to be Spaniards. A few prisoners
(twenty-six in all) were lost in this way.

When the Germans surged out from among the olive groves into the comparatively open ground in front of the Pajar de Vergara, the musketry opened along both lines at a distance of about 200 yards, the assailants delivering a rolling fire, while the defenders of the position answered with regular battalion volleys. Several times Leval’s men advanced a few score paces, and the distance between the two divisions was growing gradually less. But the attacking force was evidently suffering more than the allies: in the centre especially, where the ten guns of the redoubt were firing canister into the disordered mass, the casualties of the Baden battalions were terrible: they could not bear up against the blasts of _mitraille_, and after their colonel, von Porbeck, had fallen, they broke and began to recoil. Seeing part of the enemy’s line falling into disorder, General Campbell ordered his front line to charge. Then Colonel Myers of the 7th, seizing the King’s colour of his regiment, ran out in front of the line and calling ‘Come on, Fusiliers,’ led the advance[660]. His own battalion, the 40th and the 53rd, at once closed with the Nassau and Dutch regiments, who shrank back into the thickets and melted away from the front. The victors pursued them for some distance, capturing in their onward career a whole battery of six guns, which was being brought forward to reply to the artillery of the redoubt, but had failed to reach the clearing before the line in front of them gave way. The three battalions on Leval’s extreme left, which had the Spaniards in front of them, had been exchanging volleys with their opponents without notable advantage on either side, when the rest of the division broke. When their companions retired they also were forced to draw back, in order to prevent themselves from being turned on both flanks. Campbell was cautious enough to stop his men before they had gone far forward among the thickets, and brought them back to their old position: he spiked the guns that he had taken, and left them in the clearing in front of the redoubt. His losses had been very small, owing to his admirable self-restraint in calling back his charging regiments before they got out of hand.

[660] This was the Myers who fell in storming the famous hill of
Albuera in 1811. See Cooper (of the 7th), p. 22.

Leval therefore was able to rally his division at leisure, upon the two Polish battalions which formed its supports. He had lost in the three-quarters of an hour during which he was engaged some six or seven hundred men. The battle was raging by now all down the line, and when the Germans were re-formed, they received orders to advance for a second time, to cover the flank of Sebastiani’s division, now hotly engaged with Sherbrooke’s right brigades. Neglecting chronological considerations, in order to finish the narrative of the action in this quarter, it may suffice to say that Leval’s second attack was made at about 4 o’clock in the afternoon: it was not delivered with so much energy as had been shown in his first. It encountered the same obstacles, and could not surmount them. Once more the advance rolled up through the olive groves, and reached the clearing in front of the battery. Again the head of the attacking masses withered away under the musketry fire and the salvos from the English and Spanish guns, and the whole finally went to the rear in disorder. Campbell, in repelling this attack, used his second brigade as well as his first, and pushed the enemy further back than he had done during the earlier fighting: the Spaniards also came out of their line and continued to flank the retreating enemy with two or three battalions and a half-battery[661]. As the Hessians and Frankforters in their front began to give way, they were assailed by one of Henestrosa’s cavalry regiments, the _Regimiento del Rey_, which charged with great spirit, and cut up many men before they could form square. The bulk of the two battalions, however, clubbed together in a mass and retired into the woods, defending themselves as best they could. The victorious Spanish horsemen while following them, came upon a second French battery which (like that captured by the British brigade on their left) was being brought forward by a narrow lane between two olive groves. They cut down the gunners and took four pieces, which were dragged back into the redoubt. This was by far the best piece of work done by Spanish cavalry during the whole of the first years of the war, and did much to atone for the panic of the previous night in the eyes of the British observers upon the right wing.

[661] ‘Another lull in the storm, and fresh formation. “Here they
come again” said many voices: so they did, but we were ready
and gave them such a warm reception that they speedily went to
the right-about. As in their first attack they now left behind
several pieces of cannon, which we secured as before. After these
two attacks and sharp repulses we were not troubled with their
company any more.’ Cooper, p. 23.

The repulse of Leval’s division was complete, and its wrecks, once more rallied upon the two Polish battalions in their rear, drew back into the plain, and were completely put out of action. In this attack they lost not only the four guns taken by the Spaniards, but seven more pieces of artillery. Convinced that he could not carry the Pajar de Vergara position unless he could bring guns to bear upon the redoubt, and check the ravages of its salvos of canister, Leval had tried to push his remaining two batteries into the firing line. Again, as in the first attack, they were left helpless when the infantry broke, and became the prey of the pursuers. It would seem that he lost on this day seventeen guns in all[662]. The total of the casualties in his division were 1,007, nearly a quarter of its force: the colonels of the Baden and Frankfort regiments and the major commanding the Dutch battery had been left on the field[663]. Campbell had suffered on a very different scale--he had only lost 236 men, and it is improbable that the Spaniards on his right had more than 150 or 180 casualties, since they only fought with one wing of the attacking force. Wellesley, not without reason, gave the highest praise in his dispatch to Campbell, for the admirable and cautious defence which he had made. The management of the 4th Division, indeed, contrasted strongly with that of the troops to its left, where Sherbrooke’s brigades--as we shall see--risked the loss of the battle by their rash pursuit of the enemy, far beyond the limits of the position which had been given them to defend.

[662] There can be no rational doubt that the total number of
guns taken was seventeen, as set forth in Charles Stewart’s
report to Wellesley, as Adjutant-general, viz. ‘four
eight-pounders, four six-pounders, one four-pounder, one six-inch
howitzer, taken by Brigadier-general A. Campbell’s brigade,
with one six-inch howitzer and six other guns left by the enemy
and found in the woods’ of which four were in the hands of the
Spaniards. Wellesley, in his dispatch, made the error of stating
that twenty guns had been taken, being under the impression that
the Spaniards had captured seven pieces, while they themselves
only claim four--a Captain Piñero was mentioned in Eguia’s
dispatch for causing them to be brought back to the Spanish line.
The British took thirteen guns: three days after the battle
Wellesley made them over to his allies. He writes to O’Donoju
[Talavera, Aug. 1]: ‘We have got thirteen pieces of French
artillery, which I wish to give over to the Spanish army--the
other seven [four] you have already got. I shall be obliged if
you will urge General Cuesta to desire the commanding officer
of his artillery to receive charge of them from the officer
commanding the British artillery.’ This is surely conclusive as
to the numbers.

Jourdan in his _Mémoires_ acknowledges the loss of apparently
_all_ Leval’s guns--three batteries. ‘L’artillerie du général
Leval, qu’on avait imprudemment engagée au milieu des bois, des
vignes et des fosses, ayant eu la plupart de ses chevaux tués,
ne put pas être retirée; événement fâcheux qu’on eut le tort
impardonnable de cacher au roi’ [p. 261]. Desprez says that _six_
pieces only were lost: Thiers allows _eight_.

But the most interesting point of the controversy comes out
in Napoleon’s correspondence with his brother Joseph. On Aug.
25, the Emperor writes in hot anger to say that he sees from
the English newspapers that Joseph had lost twenty guns, a
fact concealed in the King’s dispatch. He desires to be told
at once the names of the batteries that were captured and the
divisions to which they belonged. Jourdan replies in the King’s
behalf on Sept. 15, that _no_ guns have been lost--four pieces
of Leval’s artillery had been for a moment in the hands of the
British, but they were recaptured. Joseph himself writes to the
same effect next day: ‘Wellesley n’a pris aucune aigle, il n’en
montrera pas plus que de canons.’ On the nineteenth, Jourdan
writes to Clarke, the Minister of War, to say that he has just
found out that _two_ guns had been lost by Leval. Sénarmont,
the artillery chief of the 4th Corps, explains to Jourdan, in a
letter of September 27, that _ten_ pieces had been lost in the
olive groves, but that all were recovered save _two_, one Dutch
six-pounder, and one French eight-pounder. The truth comes out in
Desprez’s narrative. He says that the King, hearing that Leval
had left guns abandoned in front of the Pajar de Vergara, ordered
Sebastiani to have them brought in: ‘Le général assura que déjà
elles avaient été reprises. Cette assertion était inexacte. Le
général Sebastiani était-il lui-même en erreur? Ou les ordres
donnés lui paraissaient-ils inexécutables? Je n’ai jamais eu
le mot de l’énigme: quoi qu’il en soit, les pièces tombèrent
le lendemain au pouvoir de l’ennemi. Le Général Sénarmont, qui
commandait l’artillerie, ne rendit pas compte de cette perte. Le
général Sebastiani l’avait prié avec instance de la cacher. Aussi
dans son rapport sur la bataille Joseph déclara-t-il positivement
qu’on n’avait pas perdu un canon. Plus tard les journaux anglais
firent connaître la vérité. L’Empereur, qui savait apprécier
leur exactitude, reprocha à son frère de l’avoir trompé. Joseph
eut assez de délicatesse pour accepter ces reproches et ne point
déclarer de quelle manière les choses s’étaient passées’ [p. 491].

In short, Sebastiani and Sénarmont conspired to hide the truth,
and Joseph, who liked them both (see his letters in Ducasse,
especially vi. 456, where on Sept. 30 he sends Sénarmont a gold
box as a sort of ‘consolation prize’), hushed the matter up in
their interests. The most curious part of the matter is that on
Sept. 27, Sénarmont was able to say with literal exactness that
only two pieces were missing, for fifteen of the lost guns had
been retaken on August 5, behind the bridge of Arzobispo, during
the retreat of Cuesta’s army. They had been given back to their
owners long before September, so were no longer missing. But this
can hardly be called ‘the whole truth and nothing but the truth.’

[663] The losses were killed: officers six, men ninety-seven:
wounded, officers twenty-four, men 803: prisoners, seventy-seven
men. Campbell lost killed: officers one, men thirty-two: wounded,
officers six, men 171: missing, officers one, men twenty-five--a
total of 236. The Spaniards may have had 150 casualties--it is
difficult to see that they can have suffered much more, as they
had only two hostile regiments in front of them.

We must now turn to their doings--the most desperate fighting that occurred during the day. Sherbrooke’s eight battalions had to endure the preliminary cannonade for more than half an hour after Campbell’s men were closely engaged with the enemy. It was not till three o’clock that the two French divisions opposed to them began to descend towards the Portiña, in an orderly and imposing array. Each of the French generals had drawn up his twelve battalions in two lines--the front line deployed in column of divisions, the supporting line in solid column of battalions. But there was this difference in their arrangements, that Lapisse had placed his brigades one behind the other, while Sebastiani had preferred to work his brigades side by side, each with one regiment in first and one in second line. The former therefore had Laplannes’ brigade (16th Léger and 45th Line) opposed to Low’s and Langwerth’s regiments of the German Legion and Cameron’s 2/83rd. The latter had the 28th of Rey’s and the 58th of Liger-Bellair’s brigades ranged over against the 1/61st and the British Foot-Guards. When the cannonade of the French batteries ceased, the twelve battalions of their first line, preceded by the usual swarm of _tirailleurs_, moved down toward the Portiña. They crossed the brook and pressed on towards the red line that stood awaiting their approach, driving before them with ease the comparatively insignificant screen of light troops that lay in front of the British centre. Sherbrooke, who was responsible for the whole line of the defence, since his division exactly covered the ground on which the French attack was delivered, had issued orders that the troops were not to fire till the enemy came within fifty yards of them, and that they were then to deliver a single volley and charge. This programme was executed with precise obedience: though suffering severely from the enemy’s musketry, the division held in its fire till the hostile columns were close upon them, and then opened with one tremendous discharge which crashed out simultaneously along the whole eight battalions. The leading ranks of Lapisse’s and Sebastiani’s front line went down in swathes,--one French witness says that the infantry of the regiments of the 4th Corps lost a third of their numbers in less than ten minutes. When the charge which Sherbrooke had ordered followed close upon the blasting musketry fire, the enemy retired in disorder and fell back beyond the Portiña.

The divisional general had apparently forgotten to caution his colonels against the danger of carrying their advance too far. Instead of contenting themselves with chasing the broken enemy as far as the brook, and then returning to their positions, the four brigades of the 1st division all crossed the water and pursued the French into their own ground; the German Legion on the left actually began to push them up the lower slopes of the Cerro de Cascajal, while the Guards on the right went forward far into the rolling plain in front of them. Cameron halted his two battalions not far beyond the Portiña; but on each side of him the pursuit was pressed with reckless energy, and without any remembrance of the fact that the enemy had strong reserves.

Thus it came to pass that a disaster followed the first success of Sherbrooke’s division. Both the Germans on the left and the Guards on the right found themselves in face of intact troops, behind whom the broken front line of the enemy took refuge. They were in no condition to begin a new combat, for they were in complete disorder, and there was a broad gap on the inner flank of each brigade, owing to the fact that Cameron had halted and refused to push forward into danger. Hence came a perilous crisis: the French reserves moved forward, the guns on the Cascajal height enfiladed the German Legion, while two regiments of Latour-Maubourg’s dragoons moved in upon the right flank of the Guards. The whole of the six battalions that had joined in the reckless advance were forced to recoil, fighting desperately but losing ground every moment, and pressed into clumps and masses that presented no trace of their former line of battle. When they fell back to the point where Cameron had stopped, the 61st and 83rd became involved in their retreat, and were forced to repass the Portiña in their company. The French followed with shouts of victory, pushing their advantage to the utmost and slaughtering the disordered battalions by hundreds. The disaster was worst on the left, where half the strength of the 2nd Line Battalion of the German Legion--387 men--was destroyed in twenty minutes, and the 5th battalion of that same corps lost over 100 prisoners. The Guards suffered almost as heavily: out of their 2,000 men 611 went down killed or wounded: but they left no prisoners behind.

It seemed that the day might well be lost, for Wellesley’s reserves were small. Such as they were, however, they were at once put into action. Mackenzie brought forward his brigade to the ground which the Guards had originally covered, and drew them up to withstand the rush of Sebastiani’s division--the 2/24th on the right, the 2/31st on the left, with the 1/45th between them. The disordered household troops passed through their intervals, and rallied behind them with splendid promptness: ‘their good humour and determination after such dreadful losses’ says an eye-witness, ‘was shown by their giving a loud hurrah as they took up their new ground[664].’ At the same time Cotton brought up the single brigade of light cavalry which was in reserve, and drew them up on Mackenzie’s right, so as to cover his flank. Sebastiani came up with great boldness against the fresh front thus presented to him, and for twenty minutes there was a furious musketry battle in the British right centre. Mackenzie himself fell, and his three battalions lost 632 men out of about 2,000: but they held their own, and finally the enemy recoiled. They were helped somewhat in their inclination to retreat by a charge of the Light Dragoons upon the flank of their left-hand regiment, the 75th, which had about 150 men sabred[665]. Thus on this point the battle was saved: the main credit must go to Mackenzie’s brigade, which has never received the praise that was its due, for its general was killed, and thus no report from the 3rd division was sent in to Wellesley, who omitted all mention of its doings in his Talavera dispatch[666]. It is never too late to do homage to forgotten valour, and to call attention to a neglected feat of arms. The services of the 24th, 31st, and 45th saved the day for Britain[667].

[664] Lord Munster, p. 231.

[665] General Desprez, relating the doings of Sebastiani’s
division, says that the 75th were cut up by _Spanish_ light
horse: but there were no cavalry of that nation in this part of
the field, and it would seem that the French were misled by the
blue uniforms of the Light Dragoons.

[666] Except that he mentioned the colonels of the 31st and 45th
among the officers who had done well in the battle.

[667] The only place where a good account of the doings of
Mackenzie’s brigade is to be found is in the excellent regimental
history of the 24th. I fully share the indignation expressed by
its author at the unmerited oblivion in which its splendid doings
have been lying for so many years. [See Paton’s _Annals of the
24th Regiment_.]

Sebastiani therefore drew back terribly mauled: his division had lost _all_ its four colonels, seven of its twelve battalion-chiefs, seventy other officers and 2,100 rank and file--including some sixty prisoners. There was no more fight left in them. They recoiled into the plain, and drew up at last not far from the wrecks of Leval’s division, a full mile beyond the Portiña.

Meanwhile, however great may have been the danger in the British right-centre, that in the left-centre was even greater. Cameron’s, Low’s, and Langwerth’s brigades were all in the most desperate position: the former, not having pushed so far to the front as the four German battalions, had suffered least of the three--though it had lost 500 men out of 1,400. But the Legionary troops were in far worse case--Langwerth had been killed, and his brigade was reduced from 1,300 to 650 bayonets--just fifty per cent. of the men had been lost. Low had gone into action with only 950 rank and file, owing to the heavy casualty-list of the preceding night. Of these he now lost 350, including 150 made prisoners in the disorderly retreat down the slope of the Cerro de Cascajal. That these troops ever rallied and made head at all, when they had recrossed the Portiña, is much to their credit.

The situation was saved by Wellesley’s own prescience. The moment that he saw the rash attack on the French line to which Sherbrooke had committed himself, he looked round for supports which might be utilized to stay the inevitable reaction that must follow. Mackenzie’s brigade was available on the right-centre, and was used as we have seen. But there were no infantry reserves behind the left-centre: it was necessary to send down troops from the Cerro de Medellin. Villatte was then threatening its front, Ruffin was marching to turn its northern flank, and Wellesley did not dare to detach a whole brigade from the key of the position. He took, however, Richard Stewart’s strongest battalion, the 1/48th under Colonel Donnellan (which had still over 700 bayonets in line even after its losses in the morning) and sent it at full speed down the southern slope of the Cerro. It arrived in time to take position on the old ground of the British line, at the moment that the retreating masses came rolling back across the Portiña. If the 48th had been carried away in the general backward movement, the day would have been lost: but the regiment stood firm, and allowed Cameron’s and Langwerth’s troops to pass by its flanks and form up in its rear. While it was holding back Lapisse’s central advance, the defeated brigades rallied and re-formed with admirable celerity, and the battle was restored. Here, as further to the right, the fighting now resolved itself into a furious musketry-combat between enemies both of whom were now spent and weakened by their previous exertions[668]. In such a duel the line had always the advantage over the column in the end. The French, when once brought to a standstill by the 1/48th, lost their _élan_, and stood heaped together in disorderly masses, keeping up a rolling fire but gaining no ground. Howorth turned upon them the batteries on the Cerro de Medellin, which enfiladed their flank and added to their confusion. General Lapisse himself was killed at this moment, as he was trying to urge on his men to a final advance. It was probably, however, not his death--on which all the French accounts lay great stress--but rather the defeat of Sebastiani’s division on their immediate right which finally shook the _morale_ of the French regiments, and induced them to move back, first at a slow pace, then in undisguised retreat. The shattered remnants of the German Legion and of the 1/48th, 1/61st, and 2/83rd were in no condition to follow. Seldom have two combatants so thoroughly mauled each other as had the twelve French and the seven allied battalions which fought in this part of the field. Of the 6,800 men of Lapisse’s division, the general, sixty-nine other officers, and 1,700 men were _hors de combat_. Of 4,300[669] British and German troops opposed to them almost exactly the same number had been lost--a general (Langwerth), seventy-seven officers, and 1,616 men. That the smaller force should ever have held its ground after losing more than a third of its number is almost miraculous. There was no such a victory as this during the whole war, save Albuera.

[668] In most modern English narratives of Talavera it is stated
that the 1/48th supported the Guards. This must be a mistake,
caused by a misreading of Wellesley’s dispatch. It is certain
that the Guards fell back on Mackenzie’s brigade. Contemporary
accounts by officers of the 2/24th speak of the Coldstreams
passing through them to re-form: the Scots Fusiliers therefore
must have had the 2/31st and 1/45th behind them. Donnellan and
the 1/48th really supported Langwerth’s German battalions, as
Lord Londonderry (the only historian who has got the facts right)
clearly shows (i. p. 410). It is curious that the historians of
the battle have not seen that the Germans, in their dreadfully
mauled condition, could not have been rallied without external
aid: this aid was given by Donnellan, while Mackenzie was saving
the Guards.

[669] The figures are (after deducting the losses of the earlier
combats): Low’s brigade 964, Langwerth’s 1,315, Cameron’s 1,306,
1/48th 700, a total of 4,285. The losses were: Low 326, Langwerth
721, Cameron 547, 1/48th _about_ 100, a total of 1,694, including
officers. (See tables in Appendix.)

While the main stress of the battle had been rolling across the lower slopes, above the middle course of the Portiña, matters had been comparatively quiet on the Cerro de Medellin. Victor, it will be remembered, had ordered that Villatte was to make no serious attack on the height until the divisions to his left had made some impression upon the British centre. But Lapisse and Sebastiani, in spite of their temporary successes, had never broken into Wellesley’s position. The assault on the Cerro therefore was never made, though a furious artillery fire was kept up against its garrison throughout the afternoon. The handful of British guns upon the crest could make no adequate reply: hence the three brigades of Tilson, Richard Stewart, and Donkin were suffering very serious losses from the long cannonade. Wellesley had made them shelter themselves, as far as was possible, behind the sky-line. Nevertheless the storm of shot and shell that beat upon the position was not without effect. In Donkin’s brigade no one, save the light companies skirmishing along the lower slopes, discharged a musket that afternoon, yet the casualties in its ranks were no less than 195[670]. Hill’s two brigades, though better covered, had still many killed and wounded. That the return-fire of the British artillery and skirmishers was not altogether ineffective is shown by the fact that the two regiments of Villatte’s second brigade, which held the opposite slope, lost 185 men, and even the squadrons of Beaumont in its rear had a few troopers disabled[671]. Nevertheless the fighting in this part of the field was not only indecisive but comparatively innocuous to both sides, when compared with the awful slaughter that was going on to their right.

[670] For a description of the sufferings of the 88th, whose
battalion companies did not fire a single shot, during the
cannonade of the afternoon, see Grattan’s _Connaught Rangers_,
vol. iii. p. 91.

[671] For these losses, see the Talavera Appendix.

It only remains to tell of the combat to the north of the Cerro, in the narrow valley that separated the British position from the Sierra de Segurilla. Here the engagement began at a much later hour than in the centre. All the observers on the hill speak of the first contest of Campbell and Leval as being concluded, and of that of Sherbrooke and Sebastiani as being at its height, before the French right wing began to move.

The French troops in this direction, it will be remembered, were the three regiments of Ruffin, now mere wrecks of their former selves, and the first brigade of Villatte’s division, that of Cassagne. The six battalions of the latter force were near the Cerro de Medellin, while Ruffin’s men stood further to the north, under the Sierra de Segurilla. In support of them both lay Merlin’s division of light cavalry.

At the moment when Victor had received permission to turn the flank of the Cerro, it had appeared that he would meet little opposition. But long ere the French were ready to advance, they had seen allied troops arriving in haste and taking up their position at the southern end of the valley. First Fane’s and Anson’s cavalry had drawn up on the level ground, then Bassecourt’s Spanish infantry had appeared on the rocky slopes of the Sierra, and had thrown out a long skirmishing line opposite Ruffin’s right. Lastly Albuquerque’s whole cavalry division had ridden round from the rear of the centre, and taken post behind Anson and Fane. There were now over 5,000 bayonets and 5,000 sabres in face of the French brigades.

It was clear that any attempt to storm the northern face of the Cerro would expose the troops that attempted it to a flank attack from the allied troops in the valley. It was this that made Ruffin and Villatte (who was present in person with Cassagne’s brigade) very chary of molesting Hill’s position. On the other hand if the French advanced up the valley to attack the cavalry at its southern end, they would expose themselves to a flanking fire from the guns on the Cerro and from Hill’s right-hand infantry brigade.

Nevertheless, when the roar of the invisible battle on the other side of the Cascajal height was at its loudest, the two French generals began a cautious advance towards the front. They at once came under a tiresome flanking artillery fire from the Cerro: half Rettberg’s battery of the German Legion had been placed on a spur from which it enfiladed Villatte’s nearest regiment. Two heavy Spanish twelve-pounders opened from another part of the slope[672], and Albuquerque had also placed his horse-artillery guns in a position from which they bore up the valley. The pieces that accompanied the French advance, being in the trough of the depression, could do little harm in return.

[672] Hartmann of the K.G.L. artillery has a note on these
pieces: they were useful because of their heavy calibre, none
of the British guns being heavier than six-pounders. They were
bright new brass cannon from the arsenal at Seville: their
machinery for sighting and elevation was of a most primitive
type--a century out of date. The lieutenant in command seemed
unable to hit anything with them, whereupon Hartmann got off his
horse, himself laid a gun, and had the luck to dismount a French
piece in the valley. After this the Spaniards fired better and
did very good service.

After advancing as far as the path which leads from Talavera to Segurilla, Ruffin deployed his right regiment, the much depleted 9th Léger, and sent it up the Sierra to form a screen opposite Bassecourt’s infantry. The other six battalions, the 24th and 96th, advanced in column along the valley, with the 27th from Cassagne’s brigade on their left; presently the whole came level with the northern slope of the Cerro, just reaching the farm of Valdefuentes at its foot.

At this moment Lapisse’s attack had already been beaten off, and Wellesley was able to turn his attention from the centre to the flank of his line[673]. Crossing the crest of the Cerro, he studied for a moment the situation of the French regiments, and then sent down orders for Anson’s brigade of light dragoons to charge them, with Fane’s heavy cavalry in support. The moment that the British horsemen were seen to be advancing the enemy hastily formed squares--the 24th and 96th slightly to the west of the Segurilla road, the 27th in a more advanced position just under the walls of the farm of Valdefuentes. A battalion of _grenadiers réunis_, and the 63rd of the Line, which formed Villatte’s supports, also fell into square far to the rear. The concentration of the French regiments in vast masses of three battalions each gave a great opportunity to the allied artillery, which found easy targets in the square blocks of men at their feet.

[673] That the charge of Anson’s light dragoons came after
victory had been secured in the centre is clear from several
eye-witnesses, e.g. Leith-Hay of the 29th, who was on top of
the Cerro, and close to Wellesley, writes: ‘The favourable
termination of the battle in the centre created great excitement:
the cheer, which had been re-echoed from the height had hardly
died away, when a scene of another character was in preparation.
The movements of the divisions Ruffin and Villatte had during
the late contest been vacillating and uncertain. Formed to all
appearance to attack the height, they had even advanced some
distance towards its base. Sir Arthur crossed with rapid steps
from the right of the 29th to the part of the hill looking down
on Anson’s brigade. It was immediately known that a charge would
take place’ (i. p. 158).

As Anson’s brigade advanced, the right regiment, the 23rd Light Dragoons, found itself opposite the large square of the 27th Léger, while the 1st Light Dragoons of the German Legion faced the smaller masses of the 24th and 96th. The ground seemed favourable for a charge, and though an attack on unbroken infantry is always hazardous, the squadrons came on with great confidence and were soon closing in at headlong speed upon the hostile line.

An unforeseen chance of war, however, wrecked the whole plan. The long dry waving grass of the valley seemed to show a level surface, but the appearance was deceitful. About a hundred and fifty yards in front of the French squares was a narrow but deep ravine, the bed of a small winter-torrent which discharges its waters into the Portiña during the rainy season. It was about fifteen feet broad and ten feet deep in the northern part of the field, a little narrower in its southern course. There were many places at which it could be crossed with ease by a horseman moving alone and at a moderate pace. But for squadrons riding knee to knee at headlong speed it was a dangerous obstacle, and indeed a trap of the most deadly sort. It was wholly invisible to the horsemen till they came upon it. Colonel Elley, the second in command of the 23rd, who rode two lengths ahead of the front line of his regiment, mounted on a grey horse, and conspicuous to every observer on the Cerro de Medellin, was the first man to discover the peril[674]. His charger cleared it at a bound; but knowing that the inferior mounts of the rank and file would certainly come to grief, he wheeled round on the further bank, threw up his hand and tried to wave back his followers. It was too late: the two squadrons of the front line were on the brink of the ravine before they could understand his action. Some of the troopers cleared the obstacle in their stride; some swerved in time and refused to take the leap; others scrambled into and over the less difficult points of the ditch: but many fell horse and man into the trap, and were then crushed by the rear rank falling in on top of them. There were several broken necks, and scores of broken arms and legs in the leading squadrons. The second line got warning of the obstacle by seeing the inexplicable disorder into which their fellows had fallen. They slackened their pace, but were borne into the confused mass at the ravine before they could entirely bring themselves to a stand. Meanwhile the front face of the square formed by the 27th Léger opened fire on the unhappy regiment.

[674] Leith-Hay, p. 159.

The German light dragoons, on the northern side of the valley, came upon the fatal cutting at a point where it was somewhat shallower and broader than in front of the 23rd--one of their officers estimates it in his narrative at eighteen feet in width and six or eight in depth. Their disaster therefore was not so complete as that of their British comrades. But many troopers of the first line were unhorsed, and others, though keeping their saddles, could not manage to scramble up the further side of the ravine. The rear squadrons came up in time to add to the confusion, and reined up among the survivors of the front[675].