Napoleon in 1812

Chapter 53

9. Burgos – 5

“Woaaaah!!”

“… They’re like a swarm of white ants flowing like the Danube River! These bastards with the plague!..”

The Allied forces surrounding Fort Burgos did not give the defensive soldiers any time to rest. Two days ago, yesterday, and today, persistent and bitter battles continued on the walls and were still going on. The soldiers were on the verge of exhaustion, but forcibly gathered their strength at the urging of the commander. Their trembling hands gripped their bayonets again.

The officers who were watching the scene tried to hide their discouraged expressions. Even though they conserved their energy by taking turns, the limit had come. Enemy soldiers, who were coming in groups, were approaching with a loud roar, regardless of the shells fired by the fortress battery.

“That’s terrible!… Truly terrible!…”

Colonel Jean-Louis Dubreton, the commander of the defenders, who could not even think of wiping the blood and dirt off his face, could not help but tremble at Arthur Wellesley’s offensive, which gave him no time to breathe. Now the defenders’ mental strength and patience were being tested every hour and every minute. Even the strongest soldiers could not stay sane because of the repeated attacks, shootings, and shelling, despite the officers’ harsh acts of encouragement and patriotism.

However, he could not back down like this, so he shouted once again.

“The Emperor himself! He’s coming to save us with brave and holy soldiers! He’s almost there! Endure it a little more!”

“Long live the Emperor! Long live the Great French Empire!”

When Napoleon Bonaparte’s name was shouted, the soldiers’ eyes changed. There was nothing more effective than Napoleon in encouraging the defenders to resist. Although there were many dissatisfied with his rule within the Empire, support for Napoleon did not waver, at least in the military. And the announcement of the abolition of the Imperial-Federal Mobilization Decree that happened in the mean time was a decisive event. Now the soldiers could hope to get released from the heavy burden of the military if they survived this battle. They did not forget who was responsible for this hope.

It was the driving force preventing them from collapsing. To survive, to reunite with their family, for their nation and for the Empire. For their own reasons, the French defenders faithfully continued to fight tooth and nail. Their persistent defense and counterattack filled the fortress with the bodies of Allied soldiers. Again, the Allied offensive was stopped.

Then, it happened at some point.

Pooooooo

They heard a heavy trumpet sound. The French officers and soldiers who had fought the Allied forces on the Iberian Peninsula for a long time knew the meaning of that sound. In this battle, the Allies were using it as a signal of rotation for the sequential attacks. The Allied soldiers who were attacking the fortress stepped down in unison. The French on the fort looked weary and waited for the next wave.

Soon after, a rough, red wave appeared. A long, 40-centimeter-high bearskin cap, a black belt wrapped around the left shoulder to the right side, a uniform redder than normal red coats, and sharp-knit military flags and emblems.

“Damn it!…”

The groans and swear words of the officers who identified them rang low. The face of the defensive soldiers turned white.

“Some shout the name of Alexander the Great, and others of Hercules the demigod! Or Hector of Troy, Lysander of Sparta, or the names of other great heroes! But no brave hero in the world can compare to you! Advance! Move forward! Step in line with the heat! For the great British Grenadier Guards!”

Taking quick steps in line to the sound of loud drums, trumpets, and flutes, they were Britain’s proud grenadier regiment. Those strong warriors, who were confident of their victory even against the French Imperial Guard, were the beasts of the battle born without fear. Even with the pouring bullets and shells, the grenadiers moved forward without any hesitation. The ladder unit followed behind them.

“Wave the flag of attack high! Put a grenade in your mouth and a bayonet over your shoulder! We’re about to enter the fortress!”

A French officer who was fluent in English heard their instructions and immediately delivered them to Colonel Dubreton. It was after Colonel Dubreton’s face had already hardened from the appearance of the grenadiers.

The officer next to him shouted, dumbfounded.

“No way, who takes grenadiers to a siege?”

“That’s how desperate they are! Musketeers, I want you to fire at will! Don’t let those beasts climb up the fortress!”

It was suicidal to engage the grenadiers in a hand-to-hand battle. They had to deal with them before they managed to climb up. But the coalition forces were not going to let them do without retaliating.

There were already Allied soldiers with excellent shooting skills in the trenches under the fortress walls. Covering themselves beyond the reach of the defensive battery, they fired double, triple cover shots until the grenadiers climbed the fortress. Because of this, the defenders were unable to stand near the edge of the walls.

Meanwhile, the grenadiers began climbing up the fortress one by one with the help of the ladder unit. Once they reached the top of the walls, they threw the grenades they had in their mouths or those carried on their backs at the French defenders without hesitation. A tactic against grenadiers throwing grenades was to grab them by hand and throw them back before they hit the ground and explode.

But catching and throwing back a 3-pound (1.4 kilogram) mass of gunpowder thrown by the strong grenadiers with all their might, required more than just courage.

“Long live the King!”

“God save the King!”

As if they did not mind exploding together, the grenadiers charged at the spot where they threw the grenades. Even the French soldiers, well-known for being fearless, could not help but be terrified at this sight.

Boom! Booom! Boom! Booom!

They were well prepared against the grenades, so they did not take much damage, but the problem was the bayonet charge of the grenadiers who broke through their disorganized ranks. Whether they were on a field or on a fortress, the ranks were military discipline. A disorganized unit would never be able to block an enemy’s attack.

Colonel Dubreton did not bother to pursue the defenders of the front row who were routing after losing their will to fight. Sometimes, it was better to take damage and take a second-line defense rather than standing upright.

Colonel Dubreton’s choice was the latter.

“First row, sit down and shoot! Second row, bow down and shoot in position! Rows one, two, three, ready to fire!… Fire!”

Tatatatatatata!

The hand-to-hand combat capabilities of the British grenadiers were unmatched. He did not intend to go all-out and confront them head-on. Three row of shots from the prepared firing squad poured out. No matter how brave and tough the grenadiers were, they did not have a steel body. The grenadiers at the front fell after the close-range shot.

Now their ranks had also collapsed. Was it still worth trying, now that both sides were disorganized? Colonel Dubreton drew his sword and shouted.

“Let’s get rid of these islander bastards! Warriors of the Empire, charge!!”

Another fierce battle ensued over the occupation of the fortress. The desperation doubled as both sides struggled, ready to die. Bodies difficult to identify were piling up on the walls of Burgos.

Allied leaders were anxiously watching the situation over the fortress with telescopes.

The reason why the British Army’s Grenadier Guards, called the cream of the army, was sent to the siege was because the situation had become so urgent. From the first attack, Fort Burgos looked like it could be captured at any moment. And this had led the Allied forces to launch an unreasonable offensive. They continued to increase the number of soldiers involved because they thought they could occupy it if they pushed forward a little more. The impatient deployment of troops accelerated the exhaustion of the coalition as a whole and caused delays.

If even today’s attack failed, they would have to retreat to the Arlanzón River. That was why they even sent the grenadiers.

“Send more infantry battalions. We must support the Grenadier Guards.”

“Yes, sir!”

The resistance on the fortress was strong, but Wellesley believed in the bravery of the grenadiers. With the infantry supporting them, they could take control of the fortress. The judgment of Arthur Wellesley, the commander-in-chief, was certainly not wrong. Despite the incredible resistance of the French defenders, Fort Burgos was gradually being handed over to the Allies. Sending in the grenadiers certainly paid off. The Allied flag was finally hung on the left-hand forward watchtower, the last bastion of the French garrison.

“Congratulations on taking the fortress, Commander!”

“The damage was great, but we finally captured that damn fortress.”

“I’m already looking forward to seeing how discouraged Nabot will be to see the flag of the coalition flying on the spire, after running here. Haha!”

The officers were sure that an enemy messenger would arrive calling for surrender, and that the Allied forces would soon be at the heart of the fort. Even Arthur Wellesley felt the same way. However, the uncertainty of war lied in leaving errors in the strategies and tactics devised by people.

Bang!

This was a gunshot often heard on the battlefield. However, the result of this shot was not so common. The bullet shot from inside of the fortress penetrated the neck of Colonel Sebastian Holton, the commander of the Grenadier Guards, who was leading the attack on Fort Burgos.

“Oh, oh my God! Colonel!!”

“He’s been hit by a bullet! Protect the regiment commander!”

The grenadiers hurriedly surrounded Colonel Holton and gave first aid, but unfortunately the colonel died. The soldiers of the regiment, who watched the scene in real time, were greatly confused. No matter how valiant they were, the troops were now separated and scattered as they proceeded with the siege.

The sudden confusion came when the regiment commander, who was going to lead them in the battle, died in an instant.

“The enemy is down! The enemy is down!!”

“An opportunity from God! Let’s drive them out!”

The French officers judged that they could take this decisive opportunity, and shouted loudly. The soldiers, who had been pushed helplessly, were raised again by the officers and excited as if they had won the battle. With their morale soaring, the French defenders charged at once, shouting. The lieutenant or battalion commander who would lead the regiment on behalf of Colonel Holton had yet to reach the fortress. The commanding officer disappeared and the grenadiers who had been wandering around were swept away by the desperate French charge.

Pooooooo

In this situation, Arthur Wellesley’s choice was to order the grenadiers to step back and regroup. He also selected officers to temporarily take the lead of the Grenadier Guards. The sudden surge in the defenders’ morale was a temporary phenomenon after all. Over time, the firewood that had lost its embers would cool down.

“They are now at their limit. They will definitely surrender after the next attack.”

“It doesn’t change anything.”

Everyone was so sure of it. The best strategy against Napoleon, that they had established from the beginning of the expedition, could finally be implemented: Taking Fort Burgos and building nearby ridges to greet Napoleon! The officers’ faces were very bright. Some even expected a victory in the Peninsula War.

But fate sometimes played cruel pranks.

“Napoleon’s army has arrived in the village of Cameno! They’re moving toward this place without a break!”

Cameno was a village on the outskirts of the city of Burgos. At this time, Arthur Wellesley had no choice but to smile bitterly. Napoleon had once again exceeded their expectations. In the dead silence of the barracks, Arthur Wellesley uttered a single sentence.

“Let’s retreat to the Arlanzón River.”

The Allied forces never took Fort Burgos.