In the Legions of Napoleon

by Lionel Leventhal

The dramatic and exciting memoirs of Heinrich von Brandt, published for the first time in English as In the Legions of Napoleon, have just been released by Greenhill. Brandt, a Polish officer, served with distinction in both the Peninsular War and the 1812 campaign in Russia. In this extract from the book, Brandt relates an episode in the Peninsular War – fought in eastern Spain against both regulars and guerrillas – the attack on Tortosa in 1810:

"I had got some way ahead of our main body with most of my voltigeur company and we now found ourselves but a little distance from the outer defensive works of the town – an earthwork guarding the bridge over the Ebro. We had not been noticed by the city's defenders and had not yet come under fire from its defences. I even thought the city had been evacuated, things were so quiet. We walked right up to the pallisades and began our preparations to climb over. I am convinced that, had the entire battalion been present at this precise moment, we could have carried the position. But things happened differently and the cry 'Los franceses! The enemy! To arms!' went up. The Spanish artillery at last woke up and sent us our first roundshot, which passed over our heads. The river was, at this point, no more than 60 yards wide and we could easily distinguish all the panic in the town, the cries of the crowd and the frantic beating of drums. Suddenly crowds of defenders began to appear above us on the earthwork and we were assailed by a murderous fire. We had to fall back as we were entirely without cover. The houses had been knocked down and the trees cut down all around the town for some distance and we had to cover a considerable expanse of open terrain before we made it to the first piece of cover we found – a two-storey house, with an enclosed garden, some 500 yards from the defences. As I had not received any orders, we established ourselves here as well as we could and awaited developments and, we hoped, support.

I posted a detachment of my men behind the garden wall and occupied the house itself with the rest. I had with me, apart from my own company, a few voltigeurs from the 44th Line who had managed to keep up with us. I had just completed my dispositions when the Spanish artillery in the old castle opened up on us with telling effect and soon the roof of the house had been destroyed and the garden wall facing the town had more holes than bricks in it.

The bombardment suddenly stopped and it became obvious we would now have to face an infantry assault. A large detachment of Spaniards poured out from the defences. We managed to shatter their first attack but no sooner had we done so than the cursed artillery opened up on us again and rained shot and shell down upon us which destroyed the entire second floor. Under cover of this diversion, the enemy managed to break into the garden by means of the breached wall and my men were forced to pull back into the house. Our casualties were mounting. The enemy were frighteningly close to us and we could make out their every feature. Their faces seemed contorted by an implacable hatred of us. Just then an artillery salvo gave us a brief respite but it was enough for us to mount a vigorous sortie which recaptured the garden. Nevertheless, we could not advance from there. The Spanish, firmly established behind the garden wall, could not be driven off and were directing a murderous fire on us, and much more accurate than I had ever experienced from Spanish troops. 'The future looks bleak' a sergeant of the 44th said to me.

It was quite true that things were not going as well as perhaps they might. We were exposed to powerful artillery fire and surrounded by a host of furious enemies. We were totally exhausted by a forced march followed by a remorseless struggle which we had endured for some three hours. A terrible thirst tormented us and we could do nothing about it as the well was in a particularly exposed part of the garden and quite out of bounds.

Taking advantage of a brief lull in the fighting, I assessed our position and had a brief council of war with the second lieutenant and the sergeant major. As there were so few of us, too few of us to force a break out, we unanimously decided that it would be better to defend each room to the last and die in the ruins rather than surrender. It also seemed impossible that our troops would not come, eventually, to our rescue and I managed to persuade the soldiers likewise.

The enemy then returned to the attack but with less vigour. We shot at them through the windows and through the holes made by the roundshot until I perceived some sort of commotion in their ranks, especially those nearest to the road to Valencia. Soon they were seized by panic and they fled en masse towards the city. We attempted to pursue them, given fresh strength by the hope of our deliverance, but were brought to a halt by a furious storm of artillery and musketery coming from the earthworks by the bridge. I was bowled over and covered in earth by a roundshot ricocheting right by me. At the same time my right hand was hit by buckshot which went into the flesh so deeply that it has since been impossible to remove it. Indeed it still gives me trouble to this day, reminding me of that first day of the siege of Tortosa.

That fierce struggle had cost me 52 men dead and wounded and the colonel commanding the vanguard reproached me for having sacrificed them needlessly. For my part I believe that he deserved to take the blame for not having hurried over to relieve me sooner than he did. This opinion was shared by our commanders and especially Chlopicki, who came, a few days later, to congratulate my men on their courage and to shake me by my unwounded hand. Inevitably, to avoid a scandal, this incident was hushed up. But I look back with pride on our defence which we conducted with honour and initiative and which was remembered for so long by all who had taken part."

In the Legions of Napoleon (ISBN 1-85367-380-3) is now available, priced £18.99. It has 288 pages, 9 maps and 26 illustrations.


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