[NTW:EIC AAR] Slaughter on the Shoreline

[Pope_Fred_I]

*Disclaimer: I didn't originally fight this battle with the intention of writing an AAR, so it's a little short on pictures. I only start snapping screenshots when I realized I was in the middle of something terribly good.


Slaughter on the Shoreline: The Battle of the River Weser, April 10, 1806
Chapter 1: The Prelude

George III's desire to wrench his German electorate from the hands of Napoleon's France had brought Wellesley's army to Bremen in the late winter of 1805. After capturing Hannover in a sharp little skirmish at the beginning of February, the British army had encamped around the city, drawing replacements and new recruits from the local population. Notable among the new native recruits were five regiments of Hannoverian infantry, two of which Wellesley attached to the King's German Legion, creating a brigade. The KGL and their Hannoverian bretheren would prove invaluable in the coming months.

In March, the French made their next move, announcing their intention to annex Hesse to their empire. Wellesley's army marched south to the aid of the Hessians, but was forced withdraw when British ally Prussia declared a pre-emptive war to conquer Hesse out from under Napoleon's grasp. The Prussian gamble failed, however, as the newly-formed French Armee de Hesse came rushing out of Wurttemburg and consumed all of Hesse-Kassel in less than a week at the beginning of March.

Fearing French intentions, Wellesley moved his army out of Hannover, leaving it guarded by two fresh regiments newly arrived from London, courtesy of Lord Keith's fleet out in the Heligoland Bight. Judging the River Weser to be the most easily defensible natural obstacle west of the city, he sent a brigade of Hannoverians - all he could realistically spare - rushing across Luneburg Heath, where they encamped at Bremen. From here they commanded all the northern river crossings and the northern approach to Hannover (as well as the British army's connection to Lord Keith's North Sea Fleet). This was an elaborate gamble on Wellesley's part, as these three regiments were as yet untested, and would be but a token resistance to a professional French army of any size.

Indeed, Wellesley had already placed his bets farther south. His reasoning was revealed in a letter to Lord Keith dated March 18:

Hannover, March 18, 1806

My Lord and Admiral:
I am, with the army, to proceed upon Hameln in the morning. There are to be found at that place two excellent fords allowing access hither the River Weser via the shortest route from Kassel. You well know that waves, in their eagerness and fury, seek the shortest distance to the breakers and shoals alike. If the enemy fall upon my Dover cliffs at Hameln, I feel I shall fairly break them. If the enemy fall upon the shoals of Bremen, I can naught but pray for Hannover, and fear we may, sir, be parted.

I am, humbly, your terrestrial servant,
Sir A. Wellesley, Maj. Gen.

Wellesley's army moved south and west on the morning of the 19th. They were, however, bogged down by rains, and were forced to upgrade the roads as they went. It took them six days to cover the roughly 30 miles, but Wellesley was in possession of his cliff.

Far from a cliff, what Wellesley was really in possession of were two non-descript fords, each carrying a road from west of the river into Hameln. They were nearly 2 1/2 miles apart - far too great a distance for mutual support in a pinch, but Wellesley felt he had forces adequate to cover both satisfactorily. He wrote to Colonel Declan Whittingham, commanding the Hannoverian brigade in Bremen:

Hameln, March 25, 1806

Colonel-

I am encamped at this place along the east bank of R. Weser and am in possession of the river crossings at this place. I am confident of the approach of the enemy to this place. If he demonstrates before me, I feel my position is strong. If he demonstrates before your position, I can but pray that you will do your utmost. Lord Keith is upon the water, and shall await my signal of our victory, or your signal should we become undone. Hold at all costs, as shall I. Godspeed.

God save the Sovereign,

Sir A. Wellesley, Maj. Gen., commanding.

Upon receiving Wellesley's dispatch, Whittingham had the bridges at Bremen demolished, and posted double guards at all other crossings. All of Hannover west of the Weser as far as Osnabruck was now, effectively, beyond the protection of the British army.

On April 1, Wellesley received word from his agents in Kassel that the Armee de Hesse had broken camp at Fulda and Kassel, and that both contingents were streaming north across the River Fulda via the bridges in Kassel. By April 4, it was reported that the lead column - made up of the same Wurttemburgers who had so violated Hesse - was at Hoxter, and coming north quickly. The next day, French fusiliers were at Brakel. By the night of the 6th, the French cavalry had scouted as far as Aerzen, and driven in the British pickets just four miles west of Wellesley's position.



The French commander, Major General Fernand Clare, had moved his army north in two columns, keeping the Wurttemburger mercenaries and French artillery to the east, nearer the river, while moving his crack French forces and his meager cavalry along the more eastern route, through Bad Pyrmont. The Wurttemburgers approached within sight of Wellesley's pickets from the south, by way of Emmerthal, on the morning of the 7th, and Wellesley settled in to see just how General Clare intended to scale his cliff.

[Pope_Fred_I]

Chapter 2: "Does he intend to simmer, or to boil?"

Over the next two days, the French forces demonstrated before Wellesley's position, hoping to draw him into an attack across the river. With the exception of a smattering of artillery exchanges, Wellesley was having none of it, and for good reason.

Wellesley understood from his agents and other intelligence sources that he was sorely outnumbered. Clare had brought nearly 5,000 men with him out of Hesse-Kassel: men fresh from a victory just the month before. The British general was counting on the French commanders' eagerness to maintain their momentum - it's why he'd chosen this location in the first place.

As the French paraded, marched, and occasionally fired their cannon, Wellesley was busy making the most of the natural strength of his position. He positioned Col. Jules Oglethorpe's First Brigade (the German troops) on the downriver ford, with Col. Corbin Sharpe's brigade of British regulars (1st, 2nd, and 11th Foot) on the upriver ford, nearer the French base at Emmerthal. He held Brigadier Endymion Hanson's brigade of regulars (4th, 5th, and 6th Foot) in reserve up on the bluff, safely out of cannon range. He split Col. Colin Brent's Light Brigade, attaching the 1st Light Foot to Oglethorpe's command, and the 2nd Light Foot to Sharpe's command. It was this unit that was drawn back to the east side of the river on the night before the battle, leaving only the 1st, under Lt. Col. Albion Simmons, on the west side of the river, opposite Oglethorpe's infantry.

Behind these positions, Wellesley placed his cavalry - the Light Brigade (2nd and 3rd Light Horse), under Brigadier Sydney Gibbs, behind and to the right of Sharpe's men (who were in heavy river-side forest, unsuitable for cavalry) and the Heavy Brigade (1st Light Horse and 3rd Horse Guards), under Col. Eli Phelps, directly behind Oglethorpe's command. Both cavalry contingents were positioned uphill of the crossings, meaning that any breach in the infantry would be met with a sudden and acrimonious plunge of sabers, buying enough time for Hanson's regulars to march up from the reserve.



On the morning of April 9th, Wellesley further augmented his riverside defenses, splitting his artillery command. His two heavy batteries - 9-lbers under command of Major Jude Adams - were sent to the upriver ford, placing them directly in front of Gibbs' horsemen. His light guns were 6-lbers, commanded by Major Ebenezer Greene, and were attached to Oglethorpe's German troops. Wellesley personally supervised the placement of these guns on the afternoon before the battle, placing a battery on each flank of the German brigade. As Wellesley arrived to begin this activity, the French gunners (who were too far away and had been less-than-effective all day) began lobbing shells across the river again. Wellesley went from gun to gun, carefully checking the sighting of each, until they were all, in Wellesley's words, "Sighted to create perfect havoc along the crossing."

As the last gun was being sighted, Major Greene - noting the peskiness of the ineffective French demonstrations - inquired of Wellesley whether the French were going to attempt a crossing, saying "Does he intend to simmer, or to boil?" Wellesley remounted his horse, glanced across to the French columns, and replied "Yes, Adams. He will come. He will come, and when he does, this river will boil like lead tea."

The night of the 9th, Wellesley ordered no campfires lit, hoping to keep his positions - particularly the well-hidden regulars along the upriver ford - a mystery to the enemy. Near sundown, French skirmishers descended on each crossing, testing and teasing out the location of the British positions on the opposite bank. At Oglethorpe's position downriver, Simmons' 1st Light Foot - the heroes of the Battle of Hannover 2 months earlier - easily drove in the French skirmishers. At Sharpe's position farther south, however, the fighting became briefly quite fierce, and the decision was made to draw the 2nd Light Foot back to the east side of the river, positioning them on the right of that brigade, masking the artillery position. As the last rays of sunlight disappeared, an eerie and quiet darkness fell across the field, which Col. Oglethorpe - a British native in command of German troops - later remarked was "as dark as a Brunswicker's jacket."

Opposite the British positions, there were decisions to make. Clare called a council of war in his tent that evening just as the musket smoke was clearing, and soon the diversity of opinions among the French commanders became apparent. Brigadier General d'Atignant, the commander of the French infantry, argued continually for a move to the north - away from the positions that the British had had over a fortnight to prepare. Clare, however, was a cavalryman, as was his second in command, Brigadier General Audric d'Argeson, who argued the opposite course of action throughout the night. Though he had only one unit of cavalry at his disposal, he felt it most prudent to move against Wellesley now. Not only did this afford the most direct route to Hannover itself, but moving north toward the Bremen crossing risked putting Wellesley's main British army directly in their rear, where they could cut off supplies and communication with Kassel and Stuttgart. In the end, Clare opted to stay and fight it out, with the intention of storming both fords early the next morning while the British were still decamping for the day.

[BrotherSurplice]

Wow, this looks like its gonna be good! Eagerly awaiting the next installment!

[Pope_Fred_I]

Sorry it's been awhile. I'll put pictures to this later, but here's some more of the story!


Chapter 3: "...and smote he the waters that were in the river..." -Exodus 7:20 (in part)

The morning of April 10th opened crisp, clear, cool, and poorly for the French. An overnight rainstorm upstream from the battlefield had visibly swollen the river, and French skirmishers attempting to reconnoiter the southern crossing had been repulsed in force by fire from the light infantry attached to Sharpe's brigade, which had been joined by forceful artillery fire from Adams' 9-lbers. The early-morning artillery had jolted Wellesley into action at his headquarters about a mile from the river, and he and his staff immediately began riding forward, even as the fire subsided.

On the French side, the ferocity of the early-morning reception had shaken Clare's nerves, and he now countermanded his orders from the previous night. Rather than assault the tree-covered position at the southern ford, he now directed d'Atignant - who had been up nearly the entire night directing the infantry into position - to redeploy to assault only the northern positions. With only a single battery of artillery, there was no way Clare could hope to force an advantage home that way, or even realistically carry an artillery duel. As the minutes turned into hours and the sun rose higher and higher in the sky, d'Atignant rode to and fro, realigning his regiments to assault the German troops guarding the northern ford. Finally, at nearly 1:30 in the afternoon (a full seven hours after Clare had intended to join battle), d'Atignant sent word to Clare that the infantry was ready. Being duly acknowledged by his commander, d'Atignant sent the order to his infantry commanders:

Attack. Attack again. We must not relent. Our force of arms, which has carried us from Paris to Stuttgart, and to Hesse, shall carry us across the river, and on to victory. Vive L'Empereur!

As the French infantry came down the bluffs, Wellesley's artillery opened up, engaging in a running gun battle with the French battery, while still taking the occasional pot-shot at the blue mass coming down the bluff toward them. It was at this early stage in the battle that things went from bad to worse for the French. Riding forward with his staff from his position with the artillery (which had been poorly placed, rendering it almost completely ineffective), Clare and his staff became victims of a shell - some say British, other sources say an errant French shot - which exploded in their midst and left Clare seriously wounded. He was quickly spirited away in a cart, but died before a surgeon could be found.

Command now devolved upon a stunned General d'Argeson, who had never held command over anything larger than a few regiments of cavalry. Generally accustomed to open-field battle as a cavalryman, d'Argeson's only real contribution to the altercation at this early stage was to turn to the commander of his lone regiment of cavalry and order him to "drive in the British skirmishers," who were still on the opposite bank of the river from Oglethorpe's men.

With that, the French cavalry - chevau-legers who were veterans of the fighting in Wurttemburg - cascaded down the hill, and set upon the Simmons' light infantry. Here, the first of a series of tragedies played out before the eyes of Oglethorpe's Germans, who watched near-helplessly on the other side as Simmons and his men were cut down by the French horsemen as they tried to wade their way back to the east bank. Fearing that the cavalry assault might carry the width of the river, Col. Oglethorpe had no choice but to open fire, even as Simmons' men were still swim-wading the river. Only 12 of the 120 men serving in the 1st Light made it back. Lt. Col. Simmons' body was found the following day, trampled by the succeeding waves of French assault, bearing an empty pistol and his broken sword, with no less than six dead French troopers laying near him.

The deadly, if tragic, volleys from Oglethorpe's Hannoverians had indeed halted the French cavalry, however. They now wheeled away to the south, clearing the path for four regiments of infantry to attempt the initial assault.

Onward came the French troops, with the Wurttemburgers in the center. The contour of the riverbank slowly constricted their movements, and as more regiments joined the assault and the approach to the ford narrowed, the French regiments began to foul each others' lines. Even so, on they came; tricolors flapping in the breeze and fifers playing.

"It seemed all a bit too idyllic, as if the ballet dancer were about to fall from the stage," recalled Colonel Ogelthorpe later.

Then came the order. In thick accents, the Hannoverian officers called for ready arms. Then the aiming command came. Their muskets hung there in the air for what seemed like an eternity, the glint of bayonets reflected in the river water as the blue mass came closer and closer by the second. Drumbeats came. The Frenchmen could be heard shouting.

Fire.

The muskets cracked, and the air was split by the fire and smoke of 700 Brown Bess's. Several of the large lead shots splashed into the water, but most - enough, as it turned out - made it to the other bank. Screams replaced shouts, agony replaced the fife and drum. The first rank of oncoming blue coats faltered for a moment, gained its composure, and continued despite their fallen comrades.

Fire.

The second rank of Hannoverian muskets cracked, increasing the volume and thick white smoke.

Fire.

Fire.

Fire.

[Marcus Vitruvius]

Wow your writing is superb! Can't wait for the next entry!