The Battle of Talavera, 27th-28th July 1809 by David Rowlands  The six-pounder guns of Captain C.D. Sillery's Company, 7th Battalion Royal Artillery were in the centre of the British line, firing round shot and case shot into the advancing columns of French infantry.  The Defiant Highlander by Richard Caton Woodville  A Gordon Highlander is shown with his captors, Napoleons Grenadiers a Cheval. TALAVERA, 27-28 July 1809   Having driven Soult from Portugal Wellesley looked to the south, towards Victor whose force was concentrated in and around the old Roman town of Merida. His Spanish allies were frustratingly difficult to get on with, as Moore had found to his cost the previous year. In spite of this, it was agreed that the British Army should co-operate with the Spaniards in a join operation against Victor's force. In fact, so eager were the Spaniards about the plan that they agreed not only to feed Wellesley's army but also to provide much needed transport for it. This having been agreed upon Wellesley crossed the border into Spain and marched his army to a pre-arranged area of concentration, north of the Tagus at Plasencia. Victor's 20,000 men, meanwhile, had moved north-east from Merida to Talavera where he hoped to unite with other French forces under General Sebastiani, who had 22,000 men at Madridejos, and Joseph Bonaparte, in command of a further 12,000 men at Madrid. In theory, this would allow the French to field a combined army of around 50,000 men, all of whom were tried and tested soldiers. Against this Wellesley and Cuesta, the Spanish commander, could field 55,000 of whom 35,000 were Spanish. Wellesley's doubts as to the merits of the Spaniards surfaced fairly soon as did his frustrations when they failed to fulfil any of the promises regarding transport and supplies. And when he rode south to Almaraz to inspect the Spanish Army Wellesley was more than a little disillusioned when he saw the poor condition of their arms and equipment. The seventy year-old Cuesta himself gave little cause for optimism and he adopted a singularly belligerent attitude towards his British ally as a result of which many hours were lost as the two men argued over the strategy to be employed against the French. Eventually, Wellesley and Cuesta agreed to unite their armies at Oropesa, about thirty miles west of Talavera. The two forces duly met as planned on July 20th and three days later had a perfect opportunity to attack Victor who had yet to meet either Sebastiani or Joseph and who was outnumbered by just over two to one. Cuesta refused to move, however, and the chance was lost although he did agree to attack at dawn on the 24th, although by then, of course, Victor had retired towards Madrid. Wellesley was naturally furious and when a buoyant Cuesta decided to set off in pursuit of Victor it was Wellesley's turn to refuse to budge. This was with good reason as intelligence reports showed that the French were only days away from uniting which would give them a combined strength of 50,000 men. Nonetheless, Cuesta gave chase and was predictably mauled by Victor's veterans on July 25th. By July 27th Wellesley had positioned his army a few miles to the west of the Alberche river which flows north from the Tagus just east of Talavera. Later that day he narrowly avoided capture whilst carrying out a reconnaissance from the top of the Casa de Salinas, a semi-fortified building on the left bank of the Alberche. As he peered out in the direction of the French army he just caught sight of a party of French light infantry, stealing around the corner of the building. He rushed down the stairs, mounted his horse and rode hell for leather away from the building followed by a couple of volleys from the enemy infantry. It was the first of a couple of occasions in the Peninsula where Wellesley narrowly avoided capture, the other notable occasion being at Sorauren in 1813. There was some skirmishing throughout the rest of the day including the celebrated incident during the evening involving four battalions of Spanish infantry who, when apparently `threatened' by some distant French cavalry, let loose a shattering volley before running away at the sound of their own muskets, stopping only to plunder the British baggage train. That night Wellesley had drawn his army up along a front stretching north to south from the heights of Segurilla to Talavera itself. On the right were positioned Cuesta's 35,000 Spaniards, the right flank resting upon Talavera being the strongest part of the line. The left flank of the British line rested upon the Cerro de Medellin, a large, domineering hill, separated from the heights of Segurilla by a wide, flat valley nearly a mile wide. In front of the Allied position, and directly opposite the Cerro de Medellin, was the Cerro de Cascajal which was soon to become the centre of the French position and between the two hills, running along the valley between them, was a small stream called the Portina. The sun had long since gone down when at around 10 o'clock, under the cover of darkness, an entire French division stole across the Portina and fell upon the British and German troops, on and at the foot of the Medellin, who were dozing off after a hard day in the field. The French advanced in three columns, one of which got lost and, failing to find any of its objectives, returned to the main French line. The other two columns, however, caused a great deal of panic in the British lines and at one point even occupied the summit of the Medellin after managing to completely pass by Donkin's brigade which occupied the forward slopes of the hill. It was during this confusion that Rowland Hill almost got himself captured when, riding forward to investigate with his brigade major, he found himself confronted by a number of French voltigeurs, one of whom tried to drag Hill from his horse. The two British officers quickly turned tail and rode off but the brigade major was killed when the French opened fire. Hill then brought forward Stewart's brigade of the 2nd Division, amongst which was the 29th who drove the French from the summit amidst a blaze of spectacular musketry which lit up the night with each volley. The situation was eventually restored and the French returned to their original positions having lost about 300 men, the British losing a similar number. A single French gun, fired in the gloom at about 5 o'clock on the morning of July 28th, signalled the beginning of the main French attack. The gun triggered off a rippling fire that rolled along the French position from about 60 of their guns. On the Medellin Wellesley's men were ordered to lie down as enemy cannonballs came bouncing in amongst them whilst on the slopes of the hill British gunners worked at their own guns in reply. From his position high on the Medellin, which was shrouded in smoke, Wellesley could see nothing of what was going on below but the sounds - soon to become so familiar to him and his army - were unmistakable. Large numbers of French tiralleurs were pushing back his own skirmish lines although Wellesley's light companies and riflemen disputed every yard of broken ground. The French came on in three columns, each three battalions-strong, altogether numbering nearly 4,500 men from Ruffin's division. The most northerly of the columns, moving to the north of the Medellin, exchanged fire at long range with the 29th but went no farther. The other two columns, however, hit that part of the British line on the Medellin which was held by Stewart's and Tilson's brigades. As at Vimeiro the French attack was hampered by its formation and the outnumbered British brigades easily outgunned the French columns, sweeping them with fire and forcing them to a standstill. French attempts to deploy into line proved futile and impossible amidst the concentrated, controlled platoon fire from the 29th and 48th Regiments. After just a few minutes those at the back and in the middle of the French columns, unable to see what was happening up front but aware that something very unpleasant was happening to their comrades, decided not to wait and see for themselves but simply melted away to the rear, very few of them having fired any shot in anger. Ruffin's attack had ended in failure and his beaten battalions were pursued for a short distance across the Portina having suffered over a thousand casualties. The initial French attack having been repulsed by 7am the battle lapsed into a duel between the two sides' artillery. This lasted for just an hour and no more serious fighting occurred for another five hours, during which both sides quenched their thirst in the shimmering heat at the Portina brook and took advantage of the lull to collect their wounded. At 1 o'clock in the afternoon the peace was shattered by another French artillery barrage that heralded a large-scale infantry assault on the right of Wellesley's line around the Pajar, a semi-fortified farmhouse that marked the junction of the British and Spanish sectors of the Allied line. Laval's division numbered 4,500 men who began to advance across the broken ground and through the olive groves to begin their attack on that part of Wellesley's line held by Campbell's 4th Division. Again Laval's men attacked in three columns, each three battalions-strong supported by guns, but as had happened earlier in the day his men found Campbell's musketry too hot to handle and the French columns broke and fled before they did too much damage and having abandoned seventeen of their guns. Laval's attack was only the prelude to the main French attack, however, and shortly afterwards some 80 French guns were blazing away at the right centre of the British line in an attempt to soften it up before the main infantry assault which would be delivered by no less than 15,000 seasoned troops under Sebastiani and Lapisse. It sounds rather repetitive to say that the French columnar formation gave the British line a distinct advantage but that is exactly what happened - again. The twelve French battalions could bring only 1,300 muskets to bear on their British adversaries, some 6,000 men of Sherbrooke's 1st Division, amongst whom were some of the best troops in the army, the Foot Guards and the King's German Legion. The irresistible and pulverizing firepower of these troops was turned on the French to devastating effect and soon enough the French veterans were streaming back across the Portina. Unfortunately, three of the brigades who had seen them off, including the Guards and the Germans, were carried away with their success and, pursuing them too far, were in turn severely mauled by the French, large numbers of whom were still fresh. Sherbrooke's men returned to the British line in a sorry state, particularly the Foot Guards who had lost 611 men. This misadventure caused a large gap in the Allied centre upon which some 22,000 French cavalry and infantry bore gleefully down with relish. There was no second Allied line and Wellesley could spare only a single battalion to plug the gap. It was a major crisis. Fortunately, the battalion, the 1/48th, was the strongest in the army but it still had to face a French attack of overwhelming numerical strength. The 48th was supported by the three battalions of Mackenzie's brigade which were moved slightly to their left to join the 1/48th. These battalions, numbering around 3,000 men, opened their ranks to let in the survivors of the Guards who formed up behind them and with a great cheer announced their intention to rejoin the battle. The British troops waited silently in line as the French came noisily on, British 6-pounder guns tearing gaps in their columns as they did so. Lapisse's battalions had advanced to within just fifty yards when nearly 3,000 nervous British fingers twitched on the triggers of their Brown Bess muskets and whole files of Frenchmen came crashing to the ground amidst rolls of thick grey smoke. The shattered French columns shuddered to a halt in the face of the savage onslaught. A series of withering volleys ripped into them at the rate of four every minute and although they stood to trade fire with Mackenzie's men the French could not match the firepower of their enemies. In the face of such an onslaught, in which the Guards and the 14th Light Dragoons joined in, Lapisse's battalions broke and fled back across the Portina leaving some 1,700 of their comrades behind them to mark their failure. All French attacks to the south of and directly at the Medellin had resulted in bloody failure and the French troops watching from the Cascajal did not relish the thought of tasting any more of such treatment. It was decided, therefore, to test the mettle of Wellesley's left flank to the north of the Medellin, Ruffin's infantry division being the instrument of this test. The nine battalions of Ruffin's division had already been heavily engaged the night before and on the morning of the 28th itself and the men showed little inclination to attack in any positive manner, a reluctance not unnoticed by Wellesley who decided to launch his cavalry against them. Ruffin's columns advanced amidst heavy shelling from the Allied artillery and when Anson's cavalry brigade, consisting of the 23rd Light Dragoons and 1st Light Dragoons King's German Legion, was spotted advancing along the floor of the valley to the north of the Medellin, the French formed square which provided an even better target for the guns. Anson's cavalry advanced in a controlled manner against the French who were still a good distance away. However, this disciplined ride was not to last for too long, for the 23rd Light Dragoons were about to provide the British Army with the second of its great cavalry fiascos of the war. For no apparent reason the light dragoons suddenly broke into a full gallop whereas the German light dragoons held back, keeping up a gentle pace. The 23rd Light Dragoons, under the command of Major Ponsonby, suddenly came up against a small, dry river bed which was a tributary of the Portina. The cutting was deep and wide and whilst not the sort of ravine that it has often been called it was, nonetheless, a serious obstacle for a cavalry regiment to negotiate at full speed. The first ranks crashed headlong into the cutting whilst others tried in vain to leap across to the other side. It was a classic `steeplechase' in which scores of men and horses were lost, the majority with badly broken arms and legs. Those who were lucky enough to negotiate the cutting then found themselves vastly outnumbered by French chasseurs who set about the blown and disorganised light dragoons with relish. Ponsonby's men rallied and fought as best they could but they were overwhelmed and forced back to their own lines having lost half of their number. The 1st Light Dragoons KGL, on the other hand, had come on at an easier pace and took the cutting in their stride. Their own attack failed to break any of the French infantry squares and they too retired to their original position. However, the two cavalry attacks, combined with the constant shelling from the Allied artillery, caused Ruffin's wavering division to turn about and return to the Cascajal. Although there were still three hours of daylight left there was no further serious fighting and as darkness fell Wellesley's men camped on the ground they occupied around the Medellin expecting a resumption of the battle the next day. However, when dawn broke on the 29th the British troops peered out across the valley to see that Victor's army had retired leaving Wellesley in possession of the field. It had been a bloody battle which had cost the British some 5,365 casualties. The French themselves had lost 7,268. Cuesta's Spaniards had held the right flank of the Allied position throughout the day but had hardly been involved in any of the fighting and their loss was trifling. The victory at Talavera had earned for Wellesley the title Baron Douro and Viscount Wellington. There were few other comforts to be derived from the battle, however, as captured despatches showed the French to be far more numerous than had been thought. On August 3rd Wellington and his army were at Oropesa but news that Soult was close by at Navalmoral, and in danger of cutting him off from Portugal, prompted a quick retirement upon Badajoz on the Spanish-Portuguese border. We'd like to thank Ian Fletcher, renowned military author on the Peninsula and Waterloo, for his contribution to our website.