The Peninsular War: Almeida

If you have invaded Spain and Portugal, as Napoleon did in 1810, you must control the port of Lisbon. Unfortunately for him, Wellington and his army had landed there in 1808 and built the formidable lines of Torres Vedras to defend his supply base. His aim: to expel the French from Spain.

In July 1810, Napoleon sent General Massena and 70,000 troops into Spain with instructions to capture Lisbon. Massena chose the northern, most accessible, route, defended by two forts; Ciudad Rodrigo on the Spanish side and Almeida on the Portuguese. Almeida defended the crucial narrow bridge over the River Coa.

The British and Portuguese contingent, under General Robert Craufurd, comprised 33,000 troops. With so few men, Craufurd knew he couldn’t stop the French from taking the forts; however, he could delay their surrender and tie up the French army which would give Wellington a breathing space.

On July 24th, the French, under Marshal Ney, attacked Craufurd’s Light Division at the River Coa and drove them back. They then began to dig siege works around Almeida itself. Inside Almeida, the British and Portuguese were busy removing anything of use to the enemy. Unfortunately, a stray spark accidentally blew up the powder magazine in the castle and ‘instantly ignited 150,000 pounds of gunpowder and over a million cartridges.’

As one French eyewitness wrote: ‘It was like the bursting of a volcano – something I can never forget after over twenty years. Enormous blocks of stone were hurled into our trenches where they killed and wounded some of our men. Heavy guns were lifted from the ramparts and hurled down far outside them…’

When the smoke cleared, the centre of Almeida had disappeared and the fort surrendered two days later. The British and Portuguese troops had no option but to retreat back towards Lisbon. They were followed by the French, but the lines of Torres Vedras held firm, and disease and starvation cost Massena the lives of 20,000 men before he finally retreated back to Spain.

By the spring of 1811, Massena had managed to re-equip his men and now had 42,000 infantry, 4,600 cavalry and 38 guns at his command. On May 2nd 1811, he marched out of Ciudad Rodrigo, determined to relieve Almeida which, though nominally in the hands of the French, was now being besieged by the Spanish.

Wellington was ready for them – and determined. He needed to secure both Almeida and Ciudad Rodrigo before he could turn his attention to Badajoz and Elvas, forts which controlled the southern route to Lisbon. The battle of Fuentes de Onoro, just outside Almeida, raged from May 2nd-5th. Captain John Kincaid was there and describes: ‘the successive rattle of artillery, the wild hurrah of charging squadrons, and the repulsing volley of musketry.’  The battle was fierce and bloody, but Almeida was relieved and Massena’s attempts to drive the British into the sea were effectively over.

So, why am I looking at Almeida, a comparatively unimportant place, in such detail? Islington, where I live, is mainly Regency and a number of street names commemorate the Napoleonic Wars. There is Copenhagen Street, for example, named after the naval battle of Copenhagen (1801), Waterloo Terrace – and Almeida Street. Today is May 5th, when, 202 years ago, British and Portuguese forces retook the fort of Almeida and thus paved the way for Wellington’s more famous victories, eventually leading to Napoleon’s downfall. It’s worth commemorating.

Photos from top: Bridge over River Coa
Almeida barracks with Portuguese soldier
Almeida barracks with Portuguese soldiers and cannon
Wellington’s headquarters: Fuentes de Onoro

Elizabeth Hawksley

Following the drum: the women in Wellington’s army

The glamour quotient at the HNS Conference in London last weekend was greatly enhanced by the presence of a number of soldiers from the Napoleonic Association, a re-enactment society – all of whom looked splendid in their scarlet uniforms.

With them was Maureen Lancaster, whose husband Ian is a sapper in the East Kent Buffs. Maureen as been with them as an army wife for twenty years, and she made not only her own costume but her husband and son Stephen’s, too. Stephen joined as a drummer boy when he was only thirteen, so a love of military history is obviously in the family.

We discussed the role of ordinary women in Wellington’s army. Officially, only six wives per hundred men were allowed to follow the drum, all chosen by lot. In Maureen’s view, without the women, the whole campaign would have ground to a halt. Women did the washing, the mending and the cooking. A contemporary print shows a couple of women washing garments in a river, whilst another hangs the clothes on a makeshift washing-line. Nearby a cauldron hangs over an open fire.

Women often went ahead of the column (many of them acquired a donkey) to buy what they could in the next village before the quartermaster got there, which was strictly forbidden and heavily punished. The women took no notice: they were determined to have a meal waiting for their husbands at the end of the day, and doubtless the cauldron in the print contained a nourishing stew for their dinner.

Official rations were sparse: only two meals per day were allowed for: breakfast at 7.30 and a meal at noon. Official women’s rations were half that of the men; unofficial women – of whom there were hundreds - were entitled to nothing at all. Prices could be ludicrously high with a loaf of bread costing half a crown (12½p).

The ordinary soldiers’ rates of pay were abysmal. An infantry sergeant received from 1s 6d to 2s per day (7½ - 10p) and a private got merely 8d (about 3½p). Even a loaf of bread would be beyond the reach of many. As Maureen said, ‘Many wives became very good at pilfering.’ They had to be.

The general practice was to billet the soldiers in the nearest village or town. If none were nearby, the men had to shift as well as they could: some cut down branches and erected huts, others just wrapped themselves in their army blanket and shivered. Later on in the campaign – which suffered some horrendous weather - the army eventually supplied tents.

I asked Maureen what happened if your husband was killed. ‘You were allowed three days to re-marry, otherwise you’d lose your rations’ entitlement,’ she replied. When I exclaimed with horror, she added, ‘It wasn’t unusual for soldiers to sell their wives.’

Of course, there were plenty of examples of devotion and heroism, too. Soldiers helped carry babies and children if there was no room on the baggage train – which stretched back for miles. And women rushed onto the battlefield, sometimes even before the fighting had stopped, to find their men, tend to their wounds or seek a proper burial.

The East Kent Buffs attends the annual ceremony to commemorate the battle of Albuera on May 16th, 1811. Maureen was so disgusted that the women’s contribution went unrecognized that she took to scattering poppies in the small military cemetery at Elvas in their memory. It has now become a recognized part of the ceremony – and quite right, too.

Photos: Top: Men of the East Kent Buffs

             Centre: Maureen Lancaster, an army wife

             Bottom: Even the underwear is authentic 

Elizabeth Hawksley

The bi-centenary of the battle of Albuera

May 16th, 2011, is the two hundredth anniversary of the battle of Albuera, one of the bloodiest of the Peninsular War. The small town of Albuera is immensely proud of its part on the battle and, each May, hosts a day of celebration, together with the Friends of the British Cemetery in nearby Elvas, to honour those who fought and died there.














The Friends of the British Cemetery was set up to restore both the abandoned cemetery and also the tiny chapel of S. Joao, which had been the military hospital in Wellington's time but which had fallen into serious disrepair. After long negotiations with the Archdiocese of Evora, the Friends were allowed right of usage and took on the responsibility for the chapel's restoration and maintenance. This was marked by a formal ceremony in which the bishop of Evora re-dedicated the chapel.

The picture below shows the Corps of Drums - Princess of Wales's Royal Regiment, looking splendid in their scarlet uniforms, who were there to mark the occasion.














The seond picture (below) shows the Portuguese Infantry Regiment No 8. There are wearing original 1811 uniforms which were doscovered in an old cupboard in the now-disused barracks. Unfortunately, all the uniforms were too small for 21st century Portuguese soldiers, so the 'soldiers' on parade are, in fact, women!














Elizabeth Hawksley

Top photograph of the chapel of S. Joao was taken by the author, the other two are courtesy of http://www.british-cemetery-elvas.org/