Apologies for the bad picture quality at the beginning, my camera is still out of action and they won't honour my warranty for damages so I'm currently using a borrowed camera with my card. Also this game was played in rather a hurry over lunch (hense the bacon and chips covered in melted cheese below) in between Fencing and Basketball and there was a large crowd watching the game (all more excuses for the poor camera work I'm afraid).
So stick with it and the photography does improve.
Having fallen back as far as the dry river bed at Carbajo, General Cuts prepared to make a stand against Raymond Dubreton's oncoming French battalion. Cuts' rather depleted force had been reinforced by a small detachment of local partisans as well as a bodyguard of Spanish royal guard escort Carabiners (dispatched ahead to the front line by Wellesley who longed to be rid of the parade ground soldiers).
The first action of the engagement was the French dragoons charging smack into the Spanish partisans. The horsemen hacked down a few of the dagos, taking minimal casualties and sending the partisans running from their trampling chargers.
The French grand battery then opened fire, the first shots landing in the centre of the arrayed ranks of coldstream guards. This company, that had so far suffered so many casualties in the retreat down the Tagus, took yet more hammering as earth and bodies flew through the ranks.
The last shots from the 12pdr artillery pieces, landed directly in the midst of the arrayed Scots Greys on the British right. Men were blasted from their saddles and horses reared, but as with the Coldstream guards the British horse kept their nerve and re figured their formation.
With the partisans beaten back and the British line suitable shaken up by the cavalry charge and artillery barrage, the Old guard centre company, eagle held high, advanced in bulky attack column towards the rocky outcrop in the centre of the smooth, dry battlefield.
Dubreton seemed content to sit tight behind his gun line as he sent forward the Guardsmen and Bavarians to hammer the British lines whilst his guns supported the advance.
The Scots Greys crashed straight into the group of French horsemen with the Spanish following close on their heels. Both groups of horsemen began to whack at each other with their great steel sabres, pistols and carbines flaring across the skirmish as the partisans speared horses and clubbed down riders, dragging them from their horses into the dirt.
The Old Guard approaching the central outcrop found themselves under fire from every direction as the 42nd highland centre company charged towards them, stopping to dispatch a volley, and the Coldstream and Norfolks fired off their salvos across the rocks and into the massed column of guardsmen.
The Bavarian Dragoons raced away from their attackers after receiving a thorough whipping from the Scots and the Dagos. The German horse had sustained reasonable casualties but they had also inflicted no meagre amount on the British horse in return, and both the partisans and Scots Greys looked as though another good push would break them.
Having been ordered by the General to charged the advance column of Old guardsmen, the Spanish royal guard Cuirassier escort, unused to facing an actual enemy and already dreadfully shaken up from the shock of seeing artillery pound the Coldstream guards, decided to take the advantage of a delayed aide de camps to retire swiftly form the table and return to Wellington in Portugal. (Historical note: at this date Arthur Wellesley had not yet been appointed viscount Wellington and would be known as General Wellesley until the following year. We simply refer to him as Wellington for ease of reference.)
The other Scots greys had also impatiently not waited for the ADC and instead of pressing the old guard they went haring off towards where the others of their regiment were currently gaining glory against the French horse.
The Old guard column failed to receive Dubreton's cautious aide de camps and instead remained in their position, still in column and stationary, and returned the highlanders' volley with devastating effect on the charging column, eagle held high.
The other column of Old guardsmen let off a volley almost simultaneously with their regimental comrades. The shots crashed into the ranks of Coldstream guards as the British redcoats reorganised their ranks from the artillery bombardment.
The 42nd now found themselves under fire from the French 12pdr artillery pieces. Men wounded from the old guard's volley found themselves hurled through the air, over the heads of their comrades as the round shot from the cannons spewed mud and blood across the ranks of kilted redcoats.
General Cuts looked on, the regimental colours of the Norfolks clasped in his hand as he walked along behind the rear ranks of the thin red lines of his British redcoats. Artillery shredded the ground around him and the air was thick with musket smoke. His men were falling like pigs in a slaughter house and yet they stood against the Frogs determined to make this stand count in this war that was not their own.
The British infantry stood strong in their valiant lines, but with their thin formations sparsely spread across the battle field they were in no position to hold down a full French infantry assualt. On the British left the scots greys and partisans struggled hard against the dragoons in an attempt to stem the French cavalry from pushing further behind the British lines.
The Scots Greys again charged in to the frey with the Bavarian horse as the enemy cavalrymen hacked away at the partisans. The scots greys' charge, strengthened by the blasts from pre loaded carbines and pistols as they cam close, dealt death to swathes of the German horse. However it was not enough to save the partisans, who stood to the last and sold their lives dearly as they were hacked down to a man by the sabres of the Bavarians.
With the last of the Spanish troops slain in the melee the Dragoons beat a hasty retreat back towards Dubreton's gun line. Both platoons of Scots greys sped after them, but the horse was already beyond the lines of Old guard, arrayed before the Coldstream guards.
It was now that General Cuts unleashed his troops in a deadly spearhead straight for the French gun line. The Coldstreams wheeled in an attmept to turn the flank of the Old guard line, whilst on the right the Highlanders charged their column straight into the ranks of old guardsmen, thrashing out desperatly for the eagle and glory. As the gap in the centre of the British line widened, the Scots Greys charged straight through aiming right for the French artillery battery.
The other squadron of birdcatchers caught up with the fleeing dragoons and with the blast of a carbine engaged them in a fierce sabre battle.
The Old guard with Colonel von brandenburg at their rear marched forwards to engage the Coldtstream in a viscious firefight.
In Carbajo the light was beginning to fade and General Cuts new with horrible certainty that this would be the last action of his force. He had done all he could to stem Marshl Victor's advance along the Tagus, using his famous war hero Brigadier Dubreton in whom French men trusted, to lead each new attack. The British horse was pushing for the gun lines but now Cuts could see through his telescope that the French infantry of the 54th were making ready their muskets and the French artillery were preparing their linstocks.
With their guns loaded, the French Brigadier ordered the lines of the 54th and the artillery battery to brake their incredibly strong position and advance on the British so as to deliver a more concentrated blast of fire power.
As the British horse came on towards them, a dust cloud in their wake, the fusiliers of the 54th shouldered their muskets whilst the firers blew on their linstocks. Fire. The order came bellowed from the Officers of the line and suddenly all was obscured by smoke, the flash of muskets and the spray of earth as the roud shots hit their targets. The screams of horses rang out across the field of battle as Scots Greys were thrown from their mounts and riders, taking belly fulls of lead, fell backwards from their chargers.
Facing the Coldstreams at but a dozen feet, the old guardsmen discharged their shots with a cloud of smoke, whilst simultaneously 12pdr roud shot fell in the ranks of redcoats.
Meawhile behind the rocky crag, on which the old guard's flank was anchored, the Scots greys continued to battle on hard against the Dragoons, whilst on the other side of the field the Highlanders continued to beaat hard at the Old guard.
Once the smoke cleared all could be seen in its horror. The Scots greys were in flight, as to were the Coldstream guards, the round shots of the artillery too much for flesh and blood to stand. However the French Horse and the Old guard were also both in flight as the wait of combat with the Scottish troops got the better of them.
Raymond Dubreton looked on from behind his gun line as the Shakos came off and filled the air, looking almost as though the shouts of "vive la France, Vive l'emperuer" kept them suspended above the lines of fusiliers. General Cuts was in retreat with his tail between his legs, and there was now naught that stood between Marshal Victor and the Portugese border.
The Brigadier imagined the future. Would he be chosen to lead the Battalion that dealt Wellington the first blow? Would he lead the invasion of Portugal? Could he push the British back as far as the lines of torres vedra again? Was it possible that he may yet rise to the rank of Marshal in Napoleon's glorious army?
General Cuts was pushed back to the Portugese border and in discrase placed in charge of the British baggae by Wellesley. Wellesley himself gathered together a force and marched to the Portugese border where he would defeat this upstart Brigadier Dubreton on the field himself.
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