Chapter 11
In This Chapter
● The Peninsular War, 1808-1814
● The Anglo-American War of 1812
● The Waterloo Campaign, 1815
The British naval hero Nelson won a great victory against the French and Spanish at sea in the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805. This removed the threat of invasion from France, and Britain could concentrate on counter-measures to Napoleon’s domination of Europe. At first these consisted simply of an economic blockade, but in retaliation Napoleon prohibited the import of British goods into Europe. Apart from smuggling, neutral Portugal offered the only through route open to British commerce. This incurred Napoleon’s wrath and in 1807 resulted in a French invasion of Portugal. By the conclusion of this campaign, Napoleon had not only been defeated in the Peninsula but in the rest of Europe as well and the French monarchy had been restored. Despite this Napoleon returned to try his luck once more, only to meet his final defeat at Waterloo, one of the most famous battles in British military history. Sandwiched between these two events, America took up arms against Britain once again (see Chapter 9 for preceding events). So this chapter covers a rather hectic few years!
British soldiers fighting in the Napoleonic Wars fought as described in Chapter 10. Figure 11-1 shows the uniforms of some common fighting troops.
One aspect of warfare that changed over the Napoleonic Wars was the reintroduction of armour. The French army’s cuirassier cavalry regiments wore polished steel helmets and breast and back plates; French carabinier cavalry regiments enjoyed much the same sort of protection, but in brass. This type of heavy cavalry, consisting of big men armed with long, straight swords, mounted on big horses, were very formidable opponents. French dragoons and Chevaux-Legers Lancers also wore helmets. In the British service, only the Household Cavalry, dragoons, and the dragoon guard cavalry regiments wore helmets (the exception being the Royal Scots Greys, who wore bearskins).
Figure 11-1: Life Guard, English Infantryman, and Scottish Highlander from the Napoleonic War.
The Peninsular War, 1808-1814
In March 1808 Napoleon invaded Spain and imposed his brother Joseph as king. That was one of the most serious mistakes of his career. The Spanish, being a proud people, were having none of it. The whole of the Iberian peninsula rose in violent rebellion against the French and a merciless guerrilla war isolated the French garrisons. On 19 July a 20,000-strong French army, outnumbered and surrounded, capitulated at Baylen. Shortly after, the British government, which had been supplying the guerrillas with money and weapons, decided to commit troops to the war, which would last until 1814. Figure 11-2 shows the location of the major actions of this war, which the French would refer to as the Spanish Ulcer because of the drain it placed on their resources.
The British force sent to Portugal was approximately 16,000 strong and commanded by Lieutenant General Sir Arthur Wellesley, who had been told to hand over command when senior officers arrived. After landing at Mondego Bay on 1 August 1808, 2000 Portuguese joined him and he brushed aside a French covering force at Rolica. As the combined army continued its march on Lisbon, the French army of Portugal confronted it on 21 August at Vimeiro, 32 miles northwest of the capital. Marshal Andoche Junot commanded the French, 13,000 strong, and he launched a series of attacks that the British line shot to pieces. Having lost 3000 killed, wounded, and captured, as well as 13 guns taken, the French withdrew. Allied losses included 160 killed and 505 wounded.
Sir John Moore
Born in Glasgow in 1761, Moore served with the 51st Foot (1/King's Own Yorkshire Light Infantry) during the American War of Independence and became a strong advocate of light infantry tactics. He was seriously wounded at Alexandria in 1801, and shortly before the Peninsular War he established a special training camp for a brigade consisting of the 43rd and 52nd Foot (1/ and 2/Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire Light Infantry) and the 95th Rifles (1/The Rifle Brigade). William Napier, the historian of the campaign, wrote that, as the brigade expanded into the crack Light Division, they had no equals as soldiers, thanks to Moore's methods. Certainly the sharp-shooting 95th, with their Baker rifles, earned a reputation for sending French regiments to bed all but officerless. In addition to his being one of the army's ablest generals, Moore's soldiers liked as well as respected him and genuinely mourned him when he was killed at Corunna.
Figure 11-2: The major battles of the Peninsular War.
It was most unfortunate that Wellesley’s superiors, Generals Sir Harry Burrard and Sir Hew Dalrymple, arrived shortly after the battle. Junot asked for terms. Burrard and Dalrymple were only too pleased to supply them. Junot’s army would not only be returned to France in British ships, it could take all its plunder and loot with it! Junot may well have choked over his wine in disbelief, but he certainly wasn’t going to argue. The folks back home in Britain didn’t see it all in quite the same overgenerous light. A court of inquiry recalled Burrard, Dalrymple, and Wellesley to explain themselves. It exonerated Wellesley of all blame, but in the meantime Lieutenant General Sir John Moore (see the sidebar about him) took command of the army in Portugal.
The Battle of Corunna, 16 January 1808
In September 1808, with the promise of support from no fewer than 125,000 Spanish irregulars, Moore advanced into northern Spain to sever the French lines of communication between France and Madrid. For a while all went well, although the Spanish provided very little practical assistance. Meanwhile Napoleon came forward to take personal control of the situation. By 4 December he had taken Madrid. He then swung northwest to threaten Moore with overwhelming numbers. Moore received warning of Napoleon’s approach. He ordered his two light brigades to make for the port of Vigo, while the rest of the army commenced an epic 250-mile retreat to Corunna over the wild, snow-covered Cantabrian mountains. Rations were in seriously short supply and the troops faced immense physical demands. For much of the time, Moore remained one step ahead of his pursuers. Napoleon, having heard that Austria was preparing to renew hostilities, departed for France on 1 January 1809, complacent in the belief that the war in Spain was over. Marshal Nicolas Soult took up the pursuit of Moore’s army, which began entering Corunna on 11 January. Embarkation and the destruction of stores commenced at once.
By 16 January enough of Soult’s troops had arrived for him to launch an assault. By then, the British cavalry and the greater part of the artillery were safely aboard their ships. The ensuing battle was fought between Moore’s remaining 15,000 infantry and Soult’s 20,000 force of all arms. Some of the fiercest fighting took place on a low ridge above the village of Elvina, where the French attacked, counter-attacks driving them back through the village. During the evening the British beat off the last French attacks. Soult sustained 2000 casualties. The British sustained half that number, including Moore himself, who was mortally wounded; by 8 a.m. on 17 January the last of the British troops were aboard. Napoleon may have thought that the Corunna evacuation marked the end of the Peninsular War. In fact, it had barely started.
The Battle of Talavera, 27 July 1809
In their eagerness to crush Moore (see the preceding section) the French had unconsciously given Portugal time to reorganise and retrain its army under British officers and NCOs. Sir Arthur Wellesley returned to the Peninsula in April 1809 and assumed overall command; in May he outmanoeuvred Soult and forced him to withdraw, abandoning artillery and baggage as he did so. Wellesley next planned an advance on Madrid in conjunction with a Spanish army commanded by General Gregorio de la Cuesta, giving him a total strength of 54,000, including some 33,000 totally unreliable Spanish who promised much and delivered nothing.
On 27 July a 46,000-strong French army commanded by Joseph Bonaparte and Marshal Claude Victor attacked the Allies’ position at Talavera, 70 miles southwest of Madrid. The Spanish, snugly entrenched, fired one nervous volley then took to their heels, spreading tales of defeat and disaster far and wide. Eventually, their own cavalry rounded up all but 6000 of them and escorted them back, although they played little or no part in the fighting. During two days of hard fighting the French attacked the British line again and again, only to be counter-attacked and thrown back each time. Neither side gained a clear-cut tactical victory, but Wellesley claimed strategic success as the French fell back towards Madrid. The French lost 761 killed, 6391 wounded, 206 missing, and 20 guns captured. British casualties amounted to 801 killed, 3915 wounded, and 645 missing. The Spanish claimed to have sustained 1207 casualties, but as they hadn’t done any real fighting the figure possibly relates to fugitives still on the run. Wellesley vowed never again to conduct joint operations with the Spanish.
Shortly after, a captured courier told the British that Soult and others were already marching south to cut Wellesley’s communications with Portugal. Reacting quickly, Wellesley had his troops concentrated on Portuguese soil by the end of August. On 26 August he was elevated to the peerage, becoming Viscount Wellington of Talavera and of Wellington.
The Battles of Torres Vedras and Busaco, 27 September 1810
Save in the Peninsula, the year 1810 found Britain abandoned by all its continental allies, so Wellington (formerly known as Wellesley) remained on the defensive. He built three deep defensive belts, known as the Lines of Torres Vedras, stretching from the river Tagus to the Atlantic ocean. Having made them impenetrable to an attacker, Wellington stripped the country bare for many miles in front of the lines so that his opponents would not be able to feed themselves without an immense logistical effort.
While the lines were being constructed, Wellington continued to menace the French with his field army, now 50,000 strong (including 24,000 Portuguese). On 27 September 1810, while withdrawing to the lines, he fought a holding action at Busaco against Marshal Andre Massena’s 60,000-strong French army. The French failed to scout properly, and their attacking columns suffered serious losses and were repulsed after heavy fighting. The British and
Portuguese sustained 1250 casualties, the French 4600. Wellington completed his withdrawal into the Lines of Torres Vedras. Massena examined the fortifications, realised that he could neither storm them nor maintain his army in front of them, then withdrew.
The Battle of Fuentes de Onoro, 5 May 1811
Wellington’s strategic aim for the 1811 campaign was to capture the frontier fortresses of Almeida, Cuidad Rodrigo, and Badajoz, to secure his base in Portugal. At the end of April he laid siege to Almeida, but on 2 May he learned that Massena’s army, resupplied and reinforced, was on its way to break the siege. Its route would take it through the straggling village of Fuentes de Onoro on the little river Dos Casas, and Wellington took up a defensive position on a ridge to the west of the stream. The two armies were in contact on 3 May, but no major action took place for two days. By then Messena’s 46,000 troops seriously outnumbered the 21,450 British and 2500 Portuguese that Wellington had available.
Massena tried to turn the Allied right, but the stubborn withdrawal of the British infantry squares and cavalry, in which each covered the movements of the other by bounds, brought the French advance to a halt. Massena then launched a series of infantry attacks that saw the village of Fuentes de Onoro change hands several times. At around noon he flung a fresh 18 battalions into the fight, forcing the British and Portuguese defenders out. Wellington personally ordered the 74th Highlanders (2/Highland Light Infantry) and 88th Foot (1/Connaught Rangers) to retake the village. Out of battle, the wild Irishmen of the 88th were often in trouble with the authorities, but in action any general was delighted to have them under his command. Now, in a bayonet charge that combined Highland ferocity with hair-raising Irish yells, the French were winkled from house after house, hounded down alleyways, and chased along streets as though the fiends of hell were after them. As if this were not bad enough, the 71st Highlanders (1/Highland Light Infantry) and 79th Highlanders (1/Queen’s Own Cameron Highlanders) followed through the attack until not a live unwounded Frenchman remained in the village.
This virtually ended the battle, for although Massena mounted a fresh attack there was no heart in it and fighting petered out. Given the nature of the fighting, casualties were remarkably light: Wellington lost 1545 killed and wounded while Massena lost 2192.
The result of the battle was far closer than Wellington would have liked, causing him to comment later on what it might have been had Napoleon commanded the enemy in person:
If Boney had been there, we should have been beaten.
Just the same, Massena had failed to win and fell back on Ciudad Rodrigo. Unable to relieve Almeida, he instructed its governor to blow up the fortifications, destroy his stores, and fight his way out, which he did. Shortly after, Massena was removed from his command and saw little further active service.
One incident during the battle of Fuentes de Onoro involved two guns under the command of Captain Norman Ramsey, Royal Horse Artillery. Cut off in the fighting, Ramsey limbered up (mounted to a horse-drawn vehicle) the guns and charged through the surrounding horde of French cavalry, many of whom were galloping alongside the mounted gunners, exchanging sabre cuts with them. Together, horses, limbers, and guns weighed several tons travelling at speed, so it would have required an act of supreme courage or stupidity on the part of any Frenchman to stand in their way. Ramsey broke clear and a counter-charge by the 14th Light Dragoons drove his pursuers off.
The Battle of Albuera, 16 May 1811
Some 120 miles to the south of Cuidad Rodrigo (see the preceding section), Sir William Beresford had laid siege to Badajoz. On 12 May he was informed that Soult was advancing to relieve the fortress. Leaving a covering force in the siege lines, Beresford marched to the dusty little town of Albuera, which lay in Soult’s path. There, a Spanish contingent under a general named Joachim Blake joined him, giving Beresford a total of 35,000 men: 7000 British, 13,300 Portuguese, and 14,700 Spanish. He deployed along a ridge to the south of the village, fronted by a stream named the Chicapierna that became the Albuera in front of the village.
Beresford’s numbers should have given him a decisive advantage from the outset. Soult, however, had carried out a detailed reconnaissance and spotted a potentially fatal weakness in the Allied deployment. On 16 May he sent a substantial number of his troops straight down the road to Albuera, acting as though they were the vanguard of a major attack. While Beresford’s attention was occupied with this, Soult swung off the road and, under cover of a wooded hill, marched the rest of his army westwards, crossed the Chicapierna, and was suddenly present in overwhelming strength on Beresford’s right flank. Here’s what followed:
Blake’s Spanish contingent held the line. For Beresford, the moment was one of acute apprehension, for no one knew whether the Spanish would fight or not. Under his personal direction the line changed front to meet the attack, while Major General the Hon William Stewart’s British 2nd Division began moving forwards to come into line beside them. Stewart’s leading brigade, commanded by Sir John Colborne, came up on the Spanish right, its regiments angled against the flank of the French column. The brigade fired two volleys, little realising that within minutes three out of every four of its men would be lying dead or seriously wounded. Torrential rain driven by high winds, interspersed with lashing hail storms, descended on the battlefield.
● Colborne’s brigade was about to charge the French with bayonets when disaster struck. Lieutenant General Marie Latour-Maubourg, commanding the French cavalry, had watched Colborne’s regiments going into action and decided to take advantage of the fact that they were still not only deployed in line and therefore terribly vulnerable to his horsemen, but also apparently unaware of his presence due to the weather. Latour-Maubourg immediately ordered his own right-hand brigade, consisting of Polish lancers and French hussars, to charge them. The galloping horsemen simply rode over and trampled the British infantry into the mud in rapid succession. Regiments dissolved into small groups fighting back to back for survival against the thrusting lances and slashing sabres. The Colour parties (see Chapter 7) became the centre of desperate struggles. Lieutenant Matthew Latham, holding the King’s Colour of the Buffs, his nose and cheek slashed off and his sword arm hanging by a thread, continued to clutch the Colour with his left hand while his enemies barged each other out of the way in their efforts to seize the prize. At length, trampled and speared repeatedly, they knocked Latham off his feet but he still retained his hold on the precious silk. Then, as his enemies were forced to defend themselves against a counter-charge by the British 4th Dragoons (later 4th Hussars), he used the last of his strength to tear the Colour from its staff and stuff it into his jacket for safekeeping.
● Colborne’s fourth regiment, the 2/31st Foot (later the East Surrey Regiment) had just enough time to form square (a defence against cavalry attack). As the lancers and hussars bore down, a blast of musketry emptied a number of their saddles and galloped on in search of easier prey. Beresford and his staff seemed ideal victims, but proved not to be. Beresford, a man of great physical strength, seized a lance that had been thrust at him, grabbed its owner by the throat and flung him over his saddle. Closing round the general, his staff cut their way out. Then, almost as suddenly as they had come, the French cavalry had gone.
● A second French infantry column began to advance up the slope alongside the first. All that stood in their path was the 2/31st’s little square, just 418 men strong; matters began to look very bleak for Beresford. Stewart, however, was already hurrying his second brigade forwards and this came immediately into action. A murderous duel of attrition followed. No one was sure how long it lasted. The men loaded and fired mechanically, though their ranks were ripped through by French musketry and cannon fire. As men dropped, so their comrades closed in to the left or right on the Colours. If the Colours went down, someone lifted and raised them again. Each regiment’s line became shorter and shorter while the gaps between it and its neighbours grew wider. Stewart was hit twice, and the second brigade’s commander, Major General Daniel Hoghton, sustained several minor wounds then fell dead with three musket balls in his body. Lieutenant Colonel William
Inglis of the 57th took his place. Inglis was a seasoned campaigner who had fought in the American War of Independence, in the West Indies, and in the Peninsula since 1809. Knowing that his men could not maintain the present rate of attrition for much longer, he rode along the ranks giving encouragement, but his horse was killed under him and a four-ounce grapeshot in the neck felled him. Propping himself up on one elbow, he fiercely exhorted his regiment: ‘Die hard, Fifty-Seventh! Die hard!’ From this battle onwards, until the regiment’s independent history ended a century and a half later, it was known as the Diehards.
● Inglis’s men of the 57th evidently thought he was dying, and in anger, their rate of fire became faster and their aim meaner. Captain Ralph Fawcett, a 23-year-old veteran of several battles, refused to be carried to the rear when he received a mortal wound. Instead, he had himself placed on a little hillock just behind the line, from which he continued to encourage his men. Ensign Jackson carried the King’s Colour, ripped by seventeen bullets and its staff broken, and he, having been hit for the third time, handed it on to Ensign Veitch while he had his wounds dressed. On Jackson’s return Veitch refused to hand the Colour back and was himself seriously wounded shortly after.
● The third of Stewart’s brigades, Colonel the Hon Alexander Abercrombie’s, began coming into line. Now approximately 3,000 British infantry faced 8,000 French. The British muskets did the greater damage, because many of the French, packed tight in their columns, were unable to use their weapons. On the other hand, the fact that the French artillery took such a terrible toll of the British ranks placed the odds firmly on the side of the enemy. The Spanish were a spent force, Stewart’s division was fighting itself to destruction, and the ammunition supply was failing. Beresford, deeply depressed, believed that he had lost the battle. His only concern at that moment was to save as much as he could of his army. He gave orders for the King’s German Legion to abandon Albuera village and for his Portuguese division to cover the line of retreat.
● As the British prepared to retreat, the insubordination of one of Beresford’s staff proved to be his salvation. 26-year-old Colonel Henry Hardinge disagreed with his chief’s gloomy assessment and galloped across to Major General Sir Lowry Cole, who had positioned his 4th Division in reserve behind the British cavalry. He urged Cole to mount an immediate counter-attack. Cole was reluctant to do so without a direct order from Beresford, but gave way when one of his brigade commanders, Lieutenant Colonel Sir William Myers, pointed out that the French were clearly about to launch their final assault on the ridge. Cole was determined not to make same mistake that had given the French cavalry their golden opportunity earlier. He formed his British and Portuguese light companies in column on his right flank, then in line came the two Portuguese regiments of Brigadier General Harvey’s brigade, then Myers’s British brigade.
● Observing the British advance, Latour-Maubourg launched four regiments at Harvey’s brigade. Horses went crashing and riders tumbling from the British and Portuguese firing until the French galloped back whence they had come. Harvey then formed a protective shoulder with which to cover the counter-attack itself, which Myers’s brigade made. Cole’s 1/7th and 2/7th (later Royal) Fusiliers deployed obliquely within 180 metres (200 yards) of the huge French infantry columns, who turned every possible musket and gun on the advancing British brigade. Myers was killed, Cole and commanding officers of the three regiments went down seriously wounded, and great gaps were blown in the ranks. The ranks closed and still the Fusiliers came on. French officers, including Soult himself, desperately tried to get the mass of their columns into ordered ranks that could reply effectively to the British volleys. They failed and their troops, who had scented victory only minutes earlier, became unsettled.
● Soult, having lost about 8,000 men, had no alternative but to withdraw across the river and into the trees. During his withdrawal the British recovered five of the six captured guns, as well as the Buffs’ Regimental Colour. Many of the 500 prisoners that the French had taken escaped. Losses of German and Portuguese (both British allies) amounted to approximately 600 men. The Spaniards lost 1368. British casualties exceeded 4000.
Of Beresford’s British regiments, he sent the 29th home to recover their strength and they did not fight again during the war. It would be two years before the Buffs and the 57th fought another battle, while the survivors of the 2/7th and 2/48th merged with their 1st battalions. Beresford returned temporarily to the siege of Badajoz, although neither it nor Cuidad Rodrigo fell until the following year (see the next section).
Although the bloodbath of Albuera did not produce long-term results, the battle is extremely important to any student of British military history because no finer example exists of that intangible quality, regimental spirit, at work. Men simply did not desert their embattled companies, nor companies their regiments, nor regiments their neighbours, for reasons of comradeship and pride and the shame that they would have to face afterwards if they ran. Soult knew that something indefinable had been at work, but he wasn’t quite able to put his finger on it. ‘There is no beating these troops,’ he wrote after the battle. ‘I always thought they were bad soldiers - now I am sure of it. I had turned their right, pierced their centre and everywhere victory was mine - but they did not know how to run!’
The storming of Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajoz, 19 January and 7 April 1812
Wellington wished to carry the Peninsular War deeper into Spain, and needed to take the fortresses of Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajoz to do so. His troops hated sieges, which involved the hard labour of digging trenches and then manning them in all sorts of weather. After this, the breaches smashed in the enemy’s fortifications had to be stormed, and that was always a desperate and bloody business. A group of volunteers known as the Forlorn Hope usually led such attacks. The task was suicidal, but no shortage of volunteers for it ever existed, as the reward for survivors was generally promotion.
The British stormed Ciudad Rodrigo on 19 January 1812 and Badajoz on 7 April. In both cases the French garrison employed every means known to military science to prevent storming of the breaches. These included cheveux-de-frise, which were balks of timber with protruding sword and bayonet blades, and concealed mines capable of blowing groups of attackers to kingdom come. Cannon firing grape swept the approach to the breaches, as did intense musketry. In addition, the garrison flung blocks of masonry and incendiary material onto the attackers.
The storming of Ciudad Rodrigo cost the life of General ‘Black Bob’ Crawford, commander of the famous Light Division, and 561 men were killed or wounded. That of Badajoz cost 3000 casualties, including five generals wounded. The attackers underwent a horrible ordeal and once inside the town they discovered large stocks of alcohol that they used to deaden the reality of their experience. Soon they became a dangerous, drunken mob, beyond the control of their officers. They embarked on an orgy of terror, debauchery, and wanton destruction that left a lasting stain on the British army’s reputation.
The Battle of Salamanca, 22 July 1812
After Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajoz fell (see the preceding section), Wellington, now an Earl, led the Allied army into central Spain. His strength now amounted to 3254 cavalry, 47,449 infantry, and 60 guns. After three weeks of manoeuvring, Marshal Marmont’s French Army of Portugal, consisting of 3400 cavalry, 46,000 infantry, and 78 guns, provoked battle close to the city of Salamanca, a town on the river Tormes, 100 miles northwest of Madrid.
Marmont, dangerously overconfident despite the fact that he was unable to see the entire battlefield, drew the wrong conclusion from dust clouds in the Allied rear, which he interpreted as a sign that Wellington was withdrawing. He instituted a move bypassing the Allied right flank in the hope that he was heading off his opponents. Wellington quickly sensed his intention and, seeing a chance to inflict a serious defeat, redeployed his troops, and as each division of the French flanking force came up the British routed it in detail. Marmont was seriously wounded, as was his successor, General Jean Bonnet, and for 20 minutes the French were without a commander. General Bertrand Clausel restored order and launched a dangerous counter-attack into the angle of the Allied line, but Wellington had already reinforced this and his troops contained the attack.
Following this failure the French army broke. Its defeat would have been even more severe if a Spanish force holding the bridge at Alba de Tormes, lying directly on the French line of retreat, had not decided to abandon its positions. The Allies sustained 5200 casualties. The French lost 14,000 men, including 7000 prisoners, plus 20 guns. As a result of the battle of Salamanca the French temporarily abandoned Madrid and raised the siege of Cadiz, the seat of the Spanish government.
General Maximilien Foy, one of Marmont’s divisional commanders, generously commented that Wellington’s conduct of the battle placed him in the same rank as Marlborough (for more on this great commander, see Chapter 8); for his achievements in 1812 the Prince of Wales (then British Regent) elevated him in the peerage to the rank of marquis.
The Battle of Vittoria, 21 June 1813
The near destruction of Napoleon’s Grande Armee in the snows of Russia put paid to any hope of holding Spain. During the spring of 1813, the French combined the armies of the South, Centre, and Portugal and began withdrawing northwards towards France; their combined strength amounted to 7000 cavalry, 43,000 infantry, and 153 guns, but camp followers who had attached themselves to the French in Spain, and also many wagons containing loot from all over the country, handicapped the columns. Wellington’s strength now included 8317 cavalry, 27,372 British, 27,569 Portuguese, and 6800 Spanish infantry, as well as 90 guns. During the winter his troops had rested, reorganised, and re-equipped.
Wellington caught up with the retreating French at Vittoria, a town south of the Zaborra river, 40 miles southeast of Bilbao, and launched an attack on 21 June. Mutually supporting assault columns, assisted by the enemy’s failure to destroy the bridges over the Zaborra, pressed the armies of the South and Centre steadily back towards Vittoria. An Allied flanking move did not produce all the results Wellington wanted, although it did tie down the French
Army of Portugal north of the town. When the French broke, only those on foot or horseback were able to escape. Their guns and other wheeled vehicles became locked in an inextricable tangle in and around the streets.
Allied losses came to 740 killed, 4174 wounded, and 266 missing. French casualties included 756 killed, 4414 wounded, and 2829 missing, plus the loss of 151 guns, 415 ammunition wagons, and huge quantities of stores.
The British drove the French, who lacked artillery and transport, back through the Pyrenees and into France. The battle earned Wellington his field marshal’s baton. It also encouraged Austria to rejoin the Allies, which now included Russia and Prussia, in the struggle against Napoleon. Having taken the fortress of San Sebastian, Wellington advanced into France. He successfully besieged Bayonne and defeated Soult at Orthez in February 1814. He took Bordeaux early in March. Soult retired to Toulouse and Wellington again defeated him on the hills outside that city on 10 April. Two days later Wellington received word that the Austrians, Prussians, and Russians had entered Paris and that Napoleon had abdicated on 6 April. For now, the Napoleonic Wars were on hold - but see the later section ‘Catching the 1815 to Waterloo’ for Napoleon’s return.
The War of 1812
In 1812, the United States declared war on Great Britain in defence of free trade and sailor’s rights. It was perfectly true that the Royal Navy’s warships had been behaving in an extremely high-handed manner, stopping American merchant vessels and taking seamen off to make up their own crews, to say nothing of the damage that the British blockade of European ports caused to American businesses, but the real motive was the conquest of Canada, and no better time for it existed, now that the United Kingdom was fully committed to the war in Spain and Portugal (see the preceding section).
Although this war is referred to as ‘The War of 1812’, it was actually fought between 1812 and 1815. The action was fought on two fronts - the northern theatre and the Atlantic front, as well as at sea.
The northern theatre
During the first two years of the war, operations in the north were of a comparatively minor nature and in overall terms tended to favour the British; action in the northern theatre took place on the Niagara front and the St Lawrence sector.
Actions in 1813
After some initial British successes on the Niagara front and an unenthusiastic showing by the American militia, the British attacked an American position on Queenston Heights on 13 October; the Americans sustained 250 killed or wounded and 700 captured. The British lost their commander, General Sir Isaac Brock, and 13 more killed, as well as 96 wounded.
In the spring of 1813 matters began to improve a little for the Americans:
● Brigadier General Zebulon Pike, with 1600 men under his command, seized and burned York, as Toronto was then known.
● Under pressure from an American army at the end of May, British forts along the Canadian border were abandoned, bringing the entire Canadian bank under American control.
● Brigadier General Jacob J. Brown’s small American garrison decisively repulsed an amphibious raid against Sackett’s Harbor on 29 May, mounted by Lieutenant General Sir George Prevost, the British Commander-in-Chief North America.
American success proved to be an illusion. At Stony Creek on the night of 5 June, 2000 Americans, incompetently commanded by Brigadier Generals William Winder and John Chandler, were routed by a 700-strong British force under the command of Brigadier General John Vincent. The Americans had not even bothered to post sentries when their opponents came howling out of the darkness with bayonets fixed, and they lost all their artillery and baggage. Other American forces started to evacuate their forts, and during the night of 18/19 December Lieutenant General Gordon Drummond’s men took the American-held Fort Niagara by a sudden attack. Drummond’s deputy, Major General Phineas Riall, then advanced along the south bank of the Niagara, brushing aside opposition from the local militia, and burned Lewiston, Black Rock Navy Yard, and Buffalo in reprisal for earlier burnings in Canada.
If the year ended badly for the Americans on the Niagara front, the news from the St Lawrence sector was just as bad: A complex plan for the capture of Montreal was formulated involving American Brigadier James Wilkinson with 8000 men and Brigadier Wade Hampton with a further 4000 men. The combined force was to capture Montreal, despite the fact that the British garrison outnumbered them and overlooking the small matter of the city’s extensive fortifications. Hampton quickly came to grief. On 25 October British and Canadian troops confronted him in close country near the Chateaugay river; led by Colonel George Macdonnel, the British and Canadian force only had 1500 men, but by having bugle calls blown all round the Americans created the impression of a much stronger force. Hampton tried frontal and flank attacks, but when these failed he meekly withdrew to Plattsburg, having sustained no more than a handful of casualties. A small British force of 800 regulars and Indians under Colonel J.W. Morrison harassed Wilkinson’s journey down the St Lawrence river and on 11 November, near Cornwall, Wilkinson landed 2000 regulars under Brigadier General John Boyd to deal with the threat. When the two forces encountered each other at Chrysler’s Farm, the Americans came into action piecemeal and the British drove them back to their boats, inflicting the loss of 249 killed or wounded and 100 captured. Next day, discovering Hampton’s retreat, Wilkinson abandoned the entire operation and went into winter quarters at French Mills on the Salmon river.
Action in 1814
The 1814 campaign began with Wilkinson renewing his advance into Canada from Plattsburg and Sackett’s Harbor. He had 4000 men under his command and promised ‘to return victorious or not at all’. A wiser general would have kept quiet on the subject, because at Le Colle Mill, a small border fort held by only 600 men, he received a sharp check and immediately returned to Plattsburg. Naturally, his superiors dismissed him on the spot. His successor was Major General Jacob Brown, who had earlier conducted the successful defence of Sackett’s Harbor (see the preceding section).
Brown was an unusually efficient New York militia officer with the ability to get the best out of his men. He did not approve of the present war, but that did not prevent him from performing his duty to the best of his ability. His second-in-command and commander of his 1st Brigade was Brigadier General Winfield Scott, a regular officer whom the British had captured at Queenston Heights and then exchanged. He was also present at Chrysler’s Farm, where he was mortified by the performance of the American regulars. A firm believer in the lessons to be taken from military history, he was well aware that in the present circumstances only strict discipline and constant training would produce the required results. His men were regular soldiers, but as there was a shortage of blue cloth, they wore grey uniforms normally issued to the American militia.
The Battle of Chippewa, 5 July 1814
British naval blockades had so ruined the commerce of the New England states that there was serious talk of them withdrawing from the Union. President Madison agreed to enter into peace talks with Great Britain, but sent word to Brown that an unqualified American success would strengthen the hand of his negotiators. Brown’s orders were to cross the Niagara, capture Fort Erie, and advance to the Chippewa river. If he won a victory he was to exploit this by continuing his advance and capturing Forts George and Niagara.
Brown crossed the river on the night of 2/3 July and gained an unexpected success. The British officer commanding Fort Erie, Major Thomas Buck, despatched a warning that the Americans had landed. And with that he considered his duty done, placing so broad an interpretation on the words ‘invasion in force’ that he simply handed over the fort. News of the American landing reached British General Phineas Riall at Fort George at about 8.30 a.m. on 3 July. He immediately mobilised his troops and directed them to the Chippewa. By the morning of 5 July he had assembled approximately 2400 men and six guns. His snipers already had the American camp under fire and his engineers were replacing the decking on the Chippewa bridge. As yet unaware that Fort Erie had capitulated, he decided to advance across the river and drive the Americans back to their boats.
During the afternoon Riall crossed the Chippewa bridge and deployed in an area of cleared forest that became known as The Plain. Shortly after, Scott’s brigade reached the area from the south, wheeled smartly left, and formed their line of battle opposite. At first Riall had taken the grey-uniformed regiments to be militia, but observing their drill and steady bearing, he remarked, ‘Why, these are regulars!’ The respective artillery of the two sides was already in action, but Riall pushed the 1st and the 100th forward in anticipation of their firing two volleys and then charging with the bayonet. This was a mistake, as the two regiments masked the fire of his guns. Scott, on the other hand, told his artillerymen to ignore the British guns and concentrate their fire on the red-coated infantry.
The Americans fired the first volley at 90 metres’ (100 yards’) range. It caused casualties, but the British closed in to within 45 metres (50 yards) before replying. Far from letting the British intimidate them, Scott’s men stood their ground. A murderous fire fight ensued, lasting some 20 to 30 minutes. The British sustained the heavier loss because of American artillery fire. The battle reached resolution when four more guns reinforced Scott. Riall, recognising that his regiments could not withstand the increased punishment for much longer, ordered a withdrawal across the Chippewa. The Americans followed up, but heavy artillery fire from across the river halted them and they withdrew to their camp.
A recent detailed analysis of the casualties sustained puts the total killed on both sides, including Indians, at about 200. Riall had 321 men wounded and Scott 219. Chippewa was an undeniable American victory, the part played by Scott’s brigade being commemorated in the grey dress uniform worn by the officer cadets at West Point Military Academy.
The Battle of Lundy's Lane, 25 July 1814
After a period of inconclusive manoeuvring following Chippewa (see the previous section), Brown resumed his advance, and opposing him, Drummond arrived to control British forces. Drummond’s force met Brown’s at Lundy’s Lane, where British artillery, including rockets and field guns, was emplaced on a small hill dominating a wide belt of open farmland to the south.
By the evening of 25 July the American advance guard was within sight of the British position. Scott was in the lead and he sent Brown a message to the effect that he was about to attack the British. Scott was as overconfident as Riall had been at Chippewa (see the previous section):
● He swung three of the 1st Brigade’s regiments off the road to the left and deployed parallel to the British line.
● He detailed his fourth regiment to guard his right flank beyond the road. Immediately, cannon and rocket fire tore his main body apart.
● He could have withdrawn, but chose not to, commenting first that by standing fast he would overawe his opponents (yes, really!); and second that if the rest of the Americans came up they would despair if they saw him pulling back!
● He ordered his men to open fire at extreme range. That did little or no damage, so at about 6 p.m. he ordered them to shorten the range by advancing 90 metres (100 yards). This simply made matters worse, because the Canadian Glengarry Light Infantry, uniformed in green like rifle regiments, began to engage the Americans from the left, assisted by three companies of the Royal Scots that Drummond had sent forward.
Shortly after, the Americans ran out of ammunition.
Dusk turned to darkness and the British guns had ceased firing. By now, the three American regiments had sustained casualties amounting to 60 per cent of their strength, but on the right flank their 25th Infantry had an unexpected success. It advanced towards the British lines and become involved in skirmishes with Canadian militia. Riall was hit in one of these clashes and the Americans took him prisoner. Brown himself now arrived on the battlefield, together with his 2nd and 3rd Brigades. He decided to take advantage of the darkness and mount an attack on the British gun line. In this Drummond’s failure to set advance lookouts, despite the near presence of the enemy, aided him. The gamble worked. After firing a volley the Americans charged up the hill and into the gun position with the bayonet. They killed some of the gunners and captured others, but more made off with the rammers, sponges, buckets, handspikes, and horse teams without which possession of the guns meant little. Drummond launched a series of counter-attacks aimed at recovering the guns. These failed, largely because the clutter of limbers and wagons parked in Lundy’s Lane broke them up.
The fighting took place in pitch darkness that prevented recognition of uniforms, and even the common language of the combatants added to the confusion. In murderously close exchanges of fire, most of the senior officers on both sides sustained wounds. British and American soldiers alike unexpectedly found themselves playing the role of captive or captor. The Americans shoved their prisoners through the church door and the prisoners promptly escaped by climbing through a window at the far end of the building.
At 11 p.m. Scott led his men in an attack against what he believed to be the British flank. The fire of three regiments, the Royal Scots, the 103rd, and the 104th, raked his column’s ranks until it withdrew. By now, only 100 or so men remained in the American ranks and they were openly muttering about Scott’s judgement. Recognising that he had forfeited his men’s confidence, he made his way across the American rear to the 25th Infantry, where a musket ball through the shoulder incapacitated him.
By 11.30 p.m. firing gradually died away. Brown believed that the British had gone and that he had won a victory. Knowledge that his division’s losses had been crippling, combined with exhaustion and a painful wound, led to his accepting a suggestion that his troops should withdraw to their camp for food and rest. In fact, the British regiments were lying down just a few hundred metres into the darkness and at first light they formed up. By 7 a.m. they were in possession of the deserted battlefield. By 10 a.m. it was apparent that the Americans did not wish to renew the contest. During the afternoon, they broke camp and began retreating to Fort Erie.
Lundy’s Lane was the most bitterly contested battle of the war. British casualties from all causes were probably in the region of 800. Brown reported the loss of 173 killed, 571 wounded, and 117 missing, a total of 861. Drummond followed up the American withdrawal to Fort Erie. In September he decided to abandon the siege, and at the end of November Brown’s replacement, Major General Izard, blew up Fort Erie’s entrenchments and took his troops back across the river. Elsewhere, General Prevost launched an invasion of New York state with 10,000 men, but was unable to advance beyond Plattsburg when the British lost control of Lake Champlain. The war in the north was over in all but name.
The Atlantic front
The British planned a series of amphibious operations against major population centres in the belief that they would expose the Washington administration’s fundamental inability to deal with an enemy who could strike wherever and whenever it liked. Neither for the first nor the last time, the British Army became a missile fired by the Royal Navy.
The wide expanse of Chesapeake Bay was strategically the most important stretch of water on the American east coast, providing as it did access to the northern and southern states, while its feeder rivers reached deep into the surrounding hinterland. A British squadron under Rear Admiral Sir George Cockburn ranged the length and breadth of the bay, destroying anything that may be the slightest use to the American war effort. Cockburn was never able to land more than 400 seamen and marines, but the arrival of four regiments of Peninsula veterans under Major General Robert Ross provided the means to strike a heavy blow. The two men planned a combined operation in which the object was nothing less than the capture and temporary occupation of Washington itself:
● Ross’s troops landed at Benedict on the Patuxent river on 19 August 1814. Apart from two 3-pdrs, Ross lacked artillery and decided to rely on Congreve rockets, one of which each infantryman could carry if other transport wasn’t available. Ross was in a hurry and this told on his men, who had been cooped up on the troop-decks of their transports for weeks. When speed was required, they adopted a pace known as the Moore Quickstep, which consisted of three steps trotting followed by three steps marching. This, coupled with broiling heat, caused exhausted stragglers to fall out along the way.
● On 21 August the column reached Nottingham. The day after, Ross feinted towards Fort Washington on the Potomac river, then changed direction again, and by evening was in Upper Marlborough. The march to Old Fields on 23 March was a short one and many of the stragglers caught up. By now, the regiments were back in trim and covering the ground as rapidly as they had in Spain.
● On 24 August they headed towards Bladensburg, where they could cross the East River and enter Washington from the northeast. At Bladensburg, their advance guard discovered some 6500 American militiamen and some guns drawn up across the river. The American artillery stopped an attempt to rush the bridge, but the British found that the river was fordable and quickly established themselves on the far bank.
Rockets started to fly past the American militiamen’s ears, twisting, turning, and exploding unpredictably in mid-air. This was too much for the militiamen, who fled; the only armed Americans remaining on the field were some 500 sailors, marines, and regular soldiers, who made a gallant stand until they were overwhelmed. The Battle of Bladensburg cost Ross 64 killed and 185 wounded. American casualties amounted to 26 killed, 51 wounded, and 100 taken prisoner.
● Later on 24 August, Ross’s troops entered Washington and the following day, as a reprisal for the destruction of York, burned the uncompleted Capitol, the President’s Palace on Pennsylvania Avenue, and every public building except the post office. The only private house they burned was one from which snipers had killed a British soldier, wounded three more, and shot Ross’s horse under him. The Washington Navy Yard, containing a recently completed frigate and a sloop, was already ablaze when the British arrived. Ross pointedly ignored Cockburn’s orders that he should ‘destroy and lay waste’ the city. The private citizens, having been reassured that neither they nor their property were in any danger, readily agreed to look after those of the British wounded who were too ill to be moved. That evening the landing force marched back the way it had come and on 30 August was aboard its ships once more.
● On 1 September it seemed as though the British were coming back. As a diversion to Ross’s operation, a naval force was proceeding up the Potomac. It consisted of two frigates and several smaller warships under the command of Captain James Gordon, RN, who became the model for C.S. Forester’s naval hero, Horatio Hornblower. On reaching Alexandria, downstream from Washington city, Gordon confiscated a huge quantity of merchandise and, with 21 prizes of various sizes, returned down river to the bay, having fought his way past several American batteries in the process.
The next objective for a raid was the port of Baltimore, lying at the head of Chesapeake Bay. The direct approach to Baltimore lay up the Patapsco river, but a line of sunken blockships and Fort McHenry, protected from close-range bombardment by a wide stretch of shoal water, denied access to the harbour itself. However, by landing at North Point at the mouth of the Patapsco, Ross believed that his troops could reach Baltimore, 16 miles distant. The landing took place early on 12 September. The troops marched steadily up the peninsula until, at its narrowest point, a force of 3200 militiamen halted them at Gadfly Wood. In a sharp fight, the British dislodged the militia at some cost. Among the British casualties was Ross himself, shot dead by a sniper as the battle began. His successor, Colonel Arthur Brooke, continued the advance until he was within sight of Baltimore’s defences, then camped for the night.
Detailed examination the next day revealed that the Americans had constructed a formidable line of redoubts and defences that fairly bristled with bayonets. In fact, no fewer than 13,000 militiamen were present in and around Baltimore, and there was no doubt that they would fight well from behind fixed defences. Brooke was aware that his troops - angered by the death of Ross - were in fighting mood and would certainly storm the entrenchments, although the cost would be high. That could not be justified in a campaign of amphibious raiding. Admiral Sir Alexander Cochrane, now commanding in the bay, agreed. During the night, the troops disengaged silently and marched back to North Point, where they embarked.
From 5 a.m. on 13 September until 7 a.m. the following day, Fort McHenry was under continuous bombardment. Because of the shoal water only shallow-draught warships were involved, and even they could only engage at maximum range. Over 400 shells and rockets exploded inside the fort, while hundreds more cannon balls, their force diminished by distance, smacked into the masonry walls. So stoutly was the fort constructed that little damage was done. Conversely, while the Americans stuck to their guns, their return fire barely touched the warships. Watching the bombardment from aboard one of the larger ships was a successful Washington lawyer named Francis Scott Key. Something of a poet in his spare time, he recorded the event in verse, noting proudly that despite all the uproar, the American flag continued to fly over the fort. Key finished his poem in a Baltimore tavern. The local newspaper published it under the title of ‘The Bombardment of Fort McHenry’, but it soon became known as ‘The Star-Spangled Banner’. It was then set to a tune called ‘Anacreon in Heaven’, which a Mr John Stafford Smith composed specially for the Anacreontic Society of London, whose principal activity seems to have been drunken singing. The combined poem and music became the American national anthem, although it did not receive official recognition as such until 1931.
Fighting beyond the bitter end: New Orleans, 1815
On Christmas Eve 1814 the British and American negotiators agreed the terms of a peace treaty. Everything was to be as it was before the first shot was fired, which made the whole war absolutely pointless. In future, the Royal Navy would not impress American seamen (with the defeat of France the need to do so had vanished), while the Americans would stop trying to conquer Canada and expand westwards (the logical direction). Unfortunately, it took weeks for the news of the treaty to reach everyone, and in that time fighting carried on.
Cochrane’s fleet left Chesapeake Bay for Jamaica, where it received further troop reinforcements with which to capture New Orleans. On the night of 23/24 December the American commander in New Orleans, Major General Andrew Jackson (a future President), launched an attack on the British camp, supported by two small warships, the Carolina and the Louisiana. The British beat the attack off with some loss, although the presence of American warships on the river had come as a most unpleasant surprise. Packenham acquired some ships’ guns to fight back with, and when the Carolina next appeared the British set the ship ablaze with red-hot shot. The Louisiana continued upstream. Packenham decided to mount a general assault on Jackson’s defences on 8 January 1815. Obviously, before this went in, the position on the right bank had to be captured. He detailed one regiment for the task, but it was delayed. Recklessly overconfident, Packenham decided to attack regardless of the uncleared position opposite. He exposed his men to a murderous crossfire that killed or wounded 2100 of them, and he paid for his mistake with his life. The irony was that the attack on the right bank succeeded brilliantly, but only after the main assault had failed. The overall American loss in this, a battle fought after the war had ended, amounted to seven killed and 70 wounded. The landing force withdrew and, perhaps wisely, Jackson did not attempt pursuit.
Catching the 1815 to Waterloo
When the French King Louis XVIII assumed the throne of his ancestors after Napoleon’s earlier defeat (see the section ‘The Battle of Vittoria, 21 June 1813’, earlier in this chapter), he behaved as though the French Revolution had never taken place. It was careless of him and his subjects didn’t like it. Of course, Napoleon Bonaparte, in exile on the island of Elba, had agents in France who kept their master fully informed. Napoleon reached the conclusion that the time was right for a comeback and escaped, landing in France on 1 March 1815. The army and a large section of the population welcomed him. By 20 March Napoleon was once again Emperor of the French.
As the great powers of Europe had already declared Napoleon to be an outlaw, they began to mobilise for an invasion of France. Napoleon also mobilised his resources, directing his attention first to the two Allied armies in Belgium, the one Prussian under Field Marshal Prince Blucher, and the other a collection of different nationalities under the Duke of Wellington.
Wellington’s army was over 80,000 strong at the start of the campaign. Only about a third of its strength was British. Most of his magnificent Peninsular infantry had been shipped across the Atlantic to fight the Americans (see the preceding section), and many of those present lacked experience and were very young. He still possessed British cavalry and artillery units who had served in Spain, as well as the excellent regiments of the King’s German Legion, consisting of exiles from Hanover and other states, which had been on the brink of disbandment. Just how well the rest of the army would fight was an open question. It consisted of contingents from the recently reconstituted armies of Hanover, Brunswick, and Nassau, with a large contribution from the Netherlands including elements of dubious loyalty who had actually fought for Napoleon the previous year. Wellington’s second-in-command was the young Prince of Orange. In theory, the army was organised in corps, but that was not how it would fight.
Wellington and Blucher were well aware that when Napoleon was confronted by two armies in the past, he used two-thirds of his strength to defeat one enemy army while the remaining third fought a holding action against the other. Then, having driven the first off the field, he concentrated against the second and destroyed it. The Allied commanders therefore decided on the ultimate object of combining their strength and defeating Napoleon in a single battle. Of the two principal protagonists, commentators generally consider Wellington to have been at the peak of his abilities. The view is that Napoleon, on the other hand, passed that point some years earlier. In addition, he was suffering from piles and cystitis and was in generally poor health.
The Battles of Ligny and Quatre Bras, 16 June 1815
On 15 June Napoleon seized Charleroi. Wellington’s army concentrated around Brussels, with Blucher’s Prussians some miles to the east. Both began marching south that night, Wellington to Quatre Bras crossroads and Blucher to the village of Ligny.
Napoleon ordered Marshal Ney, with the left wing of the French Army of the North, approximately 22,000 men strong, to eject Wellington from Quatre Bras while the remainder of his army tackled the Prussians:
● At Quatre Bras on 16 June Ney seemed to be somewhat in awe of Wellington and did not press his early assault when only 7800 Allied troops had reached the position. By the end of the day, Wellington had 31,000 men under his immediate command and Ney’s chance of seizing the crossroads had vanished. After dark, Wellington commenced an orderly withdrawal to the position he had selected at Mont St Jean, south of the village of Waterloo, having learned that the Prussians had received a mauling at Ligny and were retreating. At Quatre Bras, both sides incurred over 4000 casualties.
● At Ligny the inexperienced Prussians had fought doggedly until Napoleon’s Imperial Guard broke their centre during the evening. As Blucher was injured, General Count August von Gneisenau assumed temporary command. He decided to withdraw northwards, as this enabled him to remain in contact with Wellington. When Blucher recovered sufficiently to resume command, he sent a message to Wellington to the effect that he would join him at Waterloo.
The following morning Napoleon decided that he would concentrate against Wellington and sent Marshal Emmanuel de Grouchy in pursuit of the Prussians with 33,000 men. The following day Grouchy managed to engage the Prussian rearguard, but by then the rest of Blucher’s army was converging on Waterloo. Wellington carried out his withdrawal to Mont St Jean shielded by British cavalry and Royal Horse Artillery.
The Battle of Waterloo, 18 June 1815
After the battle of Quatre Bras (see the previous section), Napoleon and Wellington were on a collision course to fight a major engagement. The main events of the battle, one of the most decisive in history, took place within a remarkably small area, two-and-a-half miles wide by a mile deep. The battlefield consisted of a shallow valley. Wellington’s army occupied the gentle ridge to the north, while the French positioned themselves to the south. The centre of the Allied position was the point where the track crossed the Brussels-Charleroi highway. Some distance ahead of the Allied centre-right was the chateau of Hougoumont, which Wellington decided he would defend. Likewise, he would also hold La Haye Sainte Farm, situated beside the main road ahead of the Allied centre. Wellington deployed his artillery obliquely along his front with the intention of breaking up attacks. Napoleon established a grand battery (artillery) to the east of the highway, with the object of engaging the Allied centre.
Wellington’s Allied army consisted of 50,000 infantry,12,500 cavalry, and 156 guns, a total of approximately 68,100. The French Army of the North, excluding those with Grouchy (who was facing off some distance away against the Prussians), included 49,000 infantry, 15,750 cavalry, and 246 guns, a total of approximately 72,000.
The torrential rain that fell during the night of 17/18 June created so much mud that it delayed the start of the battle by several hours. When, at last, the ground began to dry out from the previous night’s rain, Napoleon decided to take the initiative. He believed that Wellington was extremely sensitive about his right flank, and that an attack by General Reille’s II Corps would force Wellington to reinforce it by drawing in units from his centre. Once they had weakened the centre in this way, General Drouot d’Erlon’s I Corps would smash through it to the east of the Brussels-Charleroi road. This alone, Napoleon believed, would be sufficient to cause the disintegration of the Allied army. The battle that followed can be broken down into a series of key events:
● The struggle for Hougoumont. Altogether some 3500 men, including British guardsmen, King’s German Legion, Nassauers, Hanoverians, and Brunswickers, played a part in the defence of the chateau of Hougoumont during the day, under the overall command of Lieutenant Colonel James MacDonnell. Between 11.30 a.m. and 6 p.m. the French made no fewer than seven determined attempts to capture the position. It was soon apparent that Wellington had no intention of weakening his centre, yet the French commander Reille persisted in committing infantry that were sorely needed elsewhere, almost certainly on the instruction of the Emperor’s brother, Jerome Bonaparte, who was actually one of Reille’s subordinate divisional commanders.
During one attack, a huge axe-wielding French lieutenant named Legros of the 1st Legere forced his way through the chateau’s north gate with 30 or 40 men, and charged into the northern courtyard. The British closed the gate by main force and killed all of the intruders, save for an unarmed drummer boy. Reille brought up a howitzer battery that shelled the buildings until they were ablaze, yet guardsmen kept firing until the floors they were standing on were on the verge of collapsing. When the British sent back an urgent request for ammunition to the ridge, an extremely brave private of the Royal Wagon Train delivered it, disregarding both the French shellfire and the terrible danger posed by the burning building to drive his ammunition wagon to the north gate, where his horses were killed. Historians have never properly established his name, but believe it to be either Brewer or Brewster. At the end of the day, Hougoumont was a ruin, but it was still in Allied hands.
● D’Erlon’s attack fails. Between 1.30 and 2 p.m. d’Erlon’s 16,000-strong corps crossed the valley and began mounting the gentle slope to the left-centre of the Allied position. A Dutch-Belgian brigade, already decimated by artillery fire, broke and fled, but British troops filled the gap.
They halted the French attack and a furious fire fight ensued. The deadlock broke when the British Household and Union cavalry brigades charged obliquely into the flank of the huge French infantry column, slashing and lopping until the whole mass disintegrated and fled down the slope, leaving large numbers of dead, wounded, and prisoners behind.
And now the British cavalry repeated the mistake they had made so often in the Peninsula. Flushed with victory, they charged on, sabering at will, until they reached Napoleon’s grand battery, where they began cutting down the gunners. In this area, the mud was almost axle deep and the exhausted horses found the going difficult. A sudden counter-attack by French cuirassiers and lancers smashed into the British, emptying many saddles. The British turned for home, but their tired mounts were unable to outdistance the enemy, who speared many men through the back. The French pursuers rallied and withdrew once they were within range of the British line, having destroyed the better part of the two brigades.
● The French cavalry are destroyed. Napoleon, feeling unwell, handed over tactical control of the battle to Ney. The advance guards of two Prussian corps were closing in from the east and to counter them Napoleon had already directed General Count Lobau’s IV Corps, amounting to one-third of his available infantry excluding the Guard, to the village of Plancenoit. In the meantime, the grand battery opened fire on the Allied army.
Ney observed what appeared to be a concerted movement to the Allied rear among the Allies on the ridge. Wellington had ordered his infantry to retire behind the crest of the ridge, which offered them some protection from the French artillery. Combined with this, empty ammunition wagons, wounded men, and columns of French prisoners under escort were all moving rearwards at the same time. Ney misinterpreted this as a sign that Wellington was withdrawing from Mont St John, and so Ney launched a mass attack with his cavalry.
The Allied infantry formed square to defend against the cavalry. British gunners fired into the approaching mass until the last possible moment, then ran for cover into the nearest squares. The French surged round the squares, but were unable to penetrate the hedges of bayonets. They fell in droves before the steady Allied volley firing. One survivor recalled that the sound of musket balls striking cuirasses (breast plates) was like hail hitting a window. When the French were thoroughly disorganised, the Allied cavalry drove them back off the ridge. At this point, the gunners returned to their guns and fired into the retreating enemy. The French repeated these attacks time and again with the same result, but in between them the Allied squares had to endure the fire of the grand battery - a stern test even for veteran infantry. Most of those present were inexperienced, but they stuck the fight out just the same. So severe were some Allied regiments’ casualties that the site of their squares was marked by their dead, lying in ranks as they had fallen. Even so, by 5.30 p.m. the magnificent French cavalry had almost ceased to exist.
● La Haye Sainte Falls. On his return to the field, Napoleon still believed that he had time to beat Wellington before turning on the Prussians, whom his Young Guard had successfully counter-attacked at Planceoit. He ordered Ney to take La Haye Sainte, whatever the cost. A few thousand men from d’Erlon’s rallied corps advanced on the farm. At that moment the King’s German Legion’s reinforced 2nd Light Battalion, which had defended its position brilliantly throughout the day, ran out of ammunition. Requests for more ammunition repeatedly went unanswered, for the simple reason that the Germans were armed with the Baker rifle and only larger-calibre Brown Bess musket ammunition was readily to hand. As the last shots spluttered out, the French swarmed into the farm. Those few of the garrison who could escaped to the ridge.
At this point the 23-year-old Prince of Orange, more used to the company of ladies of a certain age than the battlefield, ordered two King’s German Legion battalions to recapture the farm, despite being warned that a unit of cuirassiers was nearby. Obediently, the two battalions advanced and were cut to pieces in the open. Seeing this, some Allied infantry withdrew of their own accord, one Netherlands cavalry brigade refused to come forward, and a Hanoverian hussar regiment galloped off the field to spread alarm and despondency in Brussels. There was now a yawning gap in the centre of the Allied line. Luckily, Ney had nothing left with which to exploit the situation. Napoleon, absorbed with renewed pressure from the Prussians, declined at first to release any more troops from the elite Imperial Guard. By the time he finally agreed to Ney’s request, Wellington had closed the gap with troops drawn from elsewhere on his line.
● The French Guard is beaten. Shortly after 7.30 p.m. Napoleon committed his Middle Guard to an assault on the Allied right-centre. The weary infantrymen of d’Erlon’s and Reille’s corps began cheering wildly, for whenever the Emperor committed his Guard it was to deliver the coup de grace to a beaten enemy. Equally heartening was the news that the rising thunder of cannon fire to the east marked the approach of Grouchy. It was a lie, but the two things together raised the French anticipation of victory. The Middle Guard advanced up the slope between La Haye Sainte and Hougoumont, picking its way over the debris of the failed cavalry attacks. They lost men to British artillery fire, but marched on without pause. They passed through the now abandoned line of guns and emerged from the smoke expecting to see their enemies break and run, as they always had. Instead, all they saw was a small group of mounted officers watching them impassively from just beyond the crest. Invisible to them but lying in a sunken lane was Major General Peregrine Maitland’s 1st Brigade, consisting entirely of British Guardsmen.
Suddenly, long scarlet ranks rose from the earth. In one terrible minute of precise, close-range volley firing, 300 of the Middle Guard’s chasseurs (light infantry) were killed or wounded. Others tried to fire back over the heads of their comrades, to no avail. Then, with a cheer, the British came on with bayonet. The entire French column broke and fled. Maitland halted the pursuit when his men were level with Hougoumont and returned to the ridge.
To Maitland’s left was Major General Sir Colin Halkett’s 5th Brigade. Two of its regiments, the 30th (1/The East Lancashire Regiment) and 73rd (2/The Black Watch), had suffered severely during the earlier French cavalry attacks. Halkett pushed his two remaining regiments, the 33rd (1/The Duke of Wellington’s Regiment) and the 69th (2/The Welch Regiment), forward to cover the left of Maitland’s advance, but suddenly grenadiers of the Middle Guard confronted them. A volley stopped the French for the moment, but their accompanying horse artillery began firing into the British line, which Halkett ordered back to the crest. The two regiments became intermingled during the withdrawal and lost control when Halkett was wounded. The French came on without much enthusiasm and by the time they reached the crest, Major Kelly of Wellington’s staff had restored order in the two British regiments. The French Grenadiers were already having the worst of a fire fight when a Dutch horse artillery battery began firing into their right flank. They, too, broke and ran.
A third French column, consisting of more chasseurs, advanced against Major General Sir Frederick Adams’s 3rd (Light) Brigade, positioned to the right of Maitland’s brigade. On the right of Adams’s line was the 52nd (2/Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire Light Infantry), commanded by Colonel Sir John Colborne. With Adams’s approval, Colborne waited until the French had reached the crest, then wheeled the 52nd out of the line until it was parallel with the left flank of the French column and opened fire. The chasseurs halted, formed a line facing him, and a ferocious fire fight ensued. During the next four minutes, 150 men of the 52nd were killed or wounded, but the French loss was greater. As the range closed, Colborne gave the order to charge. Cheering, his men went for the chasseurs, who broke and fled wildly in the direction of La Haye Sainte. Reforming, the 52nd continued to advance across the slope, eliminating the last elements of resistance.
The watching French army had seen the Middle Guard disappear into the fog of powder smoke. It had heard the rattle of musketry rise to a decisive roar - and then the unbelievable had happened. In ones and twos, then in groups, then in hundreds, the running figures of guardsmen appeared. As realisation of what had happened dawned, a terrible cry of despair spread along the front: ‘La Garde reculel’ If the Guard had been beaten, what chance did anyone else have?
● The Prussians arrive. Everything began to happen very quickly. One Prussian corps came up on Wellington’s left after an exchange of not particularly friendly fire, and another finally broke through the French line at Plancenoit. On the ridge, Wellington gave the signal for his whole line to advance. Within 15 minutes of the Guard’s defeat, the entire French army was fleeing in complete disorder. While the Prussians carried out a ruthless pursuit, Wellington and Blucher met at an inn, suitably named La Belle Alliance.
‘Quelle affair.’ commented the elderly Prussian field marshal; as well he may, for within a comparatively small area lay 47,000 dead, dying, or wounded men and no fewer than 25,000 horses. Wellington’s army sustained the loss of 15,100 killed and wounded, of whom 9999 were British. Prussian losses amounted to approximately 7000 men. The French Army of the North lost 25,000 killed and wounded, 8000 prisoners, and 220 guns captured.
Napoleon abdicated on 22 June, and on 15 July he surrendered to the British. On 7 August he sailed aboard HMS Northumberland for lifelong exile on the island of St Helena, deep in the South Atlantic. Waterloo was the last major action of the French Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars that ravaged Europe for 22 years.