Holding the line
In fact there was usually a fair measure of chaos, and the winner was often the side that managed to make the best of this dangerous and confusing world.
Strict discipline permeated the armies of the age for this very reason, for an individual’s failure might swell into a collective panic. Often there was a brief firefight, with both sides shooting at one another at close range, but usually one side gained the ascendancy - as much moral as physical - quite quickly, forcing the other to retreat. There were, however, some battles where the infantry slogged it out with unusual ferocity.
'There were, however, some battles where the infantry slogged it out with unusual ferocity.'
On 16 May 1811 Marshal Nicolas Soult advanced on the French-held fortress of Badajoz, in western Spain, in an effort to force the British, Spanish and Portuguese force to give up their siege of the town. Sir Patrick Beresford moved out to meet him, and gave battle on a low ridge outside the village of Albuera.
French cavalry skilfully attacked Beresford’s right flank, fortuitously charging just as a sudden rainstorm swept the field, making it almost impossible for the British to fire, and doing terrible damage. Columns of French infantry then came forward. By now the rain had cleared, and muskets would fire.
Captain Moyle Sherer of the 34th Regiment saw the smoke thin for a moment to reveal:
'The French grenadier caps, their arms, and the whole aspect of their frowning masses. It was a momentary, but grand sight: a heavy atmosphere of smoke again enveloped us, and few objects could be discerned at all, none distinctly… This murderous contest of musketry lasted long. We were the whole time progressively advancing and shaking the enemy.
'At a distance of about twenty yards from them we received orders to charge; we had ceased firing, cheered, and had our bayonets in the charging position, when a body of the enemy’s horse was discovered under the rising ground, ready to take advantage of our impetuosity. Already, however, the French infantry, alarmed by our preparatory cheers, which always indicate the charge, had broke and fled.'
Recollections of the Peninsula, Moyle Sherer (Spellmount, 1996)
The French attack was checked. Soult declared angrily: ‘There is no beating these British soldiers. They were completely beaten and the day was mine, but they did not know it and would not run.’
