Wellesley then ordered Stapleton Cotton up
with his light cavalry, sending to Colonel Donellan to bring the 48th Foot from
the hill; and soon their broad buff regimental banner was seen approaching side
by side with the King’s colour, as the Northamptons marched proudly into the
disorder, wheeling back by companies to let the retiring jumble through and
then resuming their steady line, shoulder to shoulder.
Gallant Lapisse lay dying on the grass, his
life-blood welling out over the general’s gold aiguillette; but his column, hot
with victory, had penetrated the British centre, and were making the most of a
triumph destined to be short. The sun was now behind the British, for it was
afternoon and the band of purple shadow that preceded the scarlet line of the
48th Foot was ominous of the disaster about to fall on the Frenchmen.
Taking the column on its right, the
Northamptonshire poured a tremendous volley into it and closed with the
bayonet. Colonel Donellan fell mortally wounded near the gruesome masses of
dead guardsmen, 600 of whom were slaughtered there; but even in his agony the
fine old man remembered his regiment, and raising his distinctive
three-cornered Nivernois hat he desired Major Middlemore to take command,
sinking back with dimmed eyes as the stout fellows faded from his sight for ever.
Like an avalanche the 48th fell on the
column and checked its progress, giving the Guards and the Germans time to
rally; then another hand-to-hand struggle began, fiercer if possible than the
last, for the British were fighting desperately to recover lost ground.
Those who could not get to the front held
aloof, and fired shot after shot wherever they saw an enemy; men wrestled and
rolled over, clutching at each other; fists were used when weapons were broken;
bearded Sapeurs in bearskin caps and white leather aprons hewed with their
axes; officers in topboots shouted themselves hoarse; and Dermoncourt’s 1st
Dragoons slashed and pointed in the most frantic attempt to break the British;
but order was restored to the British Guards by the example of the
Northamptonshire, and Cotton's cavalry came up at a trot with sabres in hand
just in time.
Nearly all the staff were either unhorsed
or wounded, and Wellesley himself was hit on the shoulder, but not seriously.
Ruffin hesitated beyond the valley, and was lost; Lapisse lay dead, and
Sebastiani was in disorder. King Joseph’s reserves and his Guard had not been
engaged, but the French morale was shaken and the British infantry began to
cheer - a pretty sure sign that they considered themselves to be conquering.
The artillery still continued; but little
by little the French retreated to their own side of the plain, and about six
o’clock the battle was over.
from "The Battle of Talavera" by Oliver Hayes
Product Description
At Talavera a British army under Sir Arthur Wellesley (later the
Duke of Wellington) tried to link up with a Spanish army under General
Cuesta to ambush a French corps under Marshal Victor. But things went
wrong and the British had to fight their way to safety.
This book forms part of the Bretwalda Battles series on The Peninsular War.
The
book outlines the Peninsular War up to the start of the Talavera
Campaign. It then analyses the careers of the commanders and explains
the tactics and weapons of the time together with any differences
between the practices of the armies involved in the battle. The book
then describes the action in detail before moving on to outline events
after the battle.
Written by a military author of great
experience, this book explains the way battles were fought two centuries
ago and explains the course of the action in an accessible but
authoritative style.
This lavishly illustrated ebook is a must
for anyone interested in the Peninsular War in general or the Battle of
Talavera in particular.