Rifles - Mark Urban [66]
A few days later, when Wellington came to write his official dispatch, a document that would be published in the newspapers, he reflected further on the events at Sabugal. He was certainly not a man given to hyperbole, but it was to be one of the most effusive dispatches he ever composed: ‘I consider the action that was fought by the Light Division, by Col. Beckwith’s brigade principally, with the whole of the 2d Corps, to be one of the most glorious that British troops were ever engaged in.’ As for the leader of the division’s Right Brigade, who still technically only held the post of commanding officer of the 1st Battalion, 95th, Wellington wrote, ‘It was impossible for any officer to conduct himself with more ability and gallantry than Col. Beckwith.’
This was a bitter pill indeed for Craufurd, for neither he personally, nor the division whilst under his command was ever to receive such words from Wellington. Craufurd could not contain his feelings when he finally admitted to his beloved wife and most intimate confidante that ‘it would be stupid to pretend to persuade you that I did not feel any regret that the events, which have taken place in my absence, had not taken place until after my return.’
The Light Division’s fame combined with its losses to enhance the prospects for the advancement of its officers. Beckwith was raised from lieutenant colonel to colonel, a step that would eventually remove him from the command of his battalion. On 11 April, Peter O’Hare was also given an in-field promotion, or brevet, to the rank of major. This meant higher pay, and priority in promotion to a major’s post once one was vacant. Indeed, the death of Major Stewart in March had created such a gap: the only way that O’Hare could have been thwarted would have been if some officer already in possession of a major’s commission (for example, in the 2nd or 3rd Battalion of the 95th) had outmanoeuvred him. But Beckwith appears to have observed a rule that the promotions, wherever possible, should be made within the battalion and on the basis of gallantry or seniority (both in O’Hare’s case), rather than allowing an outsider to come in, by purchase or otherwise. This took account of the proud and prickly nature of his battalion’s officers and the difficulty that any non-veteran might experience in commanding their loyalty.
Sabugal was O’Hare’s last battle at the head of the 3rd Company. He would now serve as a major, commanding one of the two wings into which the battalion had been divided. Had the position been sold, it would have cost someone almost £3,000. But O’Hare had achieved the step through serving his time, hard fighting and being lucky enough to stay alive. In making this promotion, he had managed something so difficult – for the average battalion carried five captains for each major – that even many of the better-connected officers in the Peninsular Army had trouble achieving it.
As for the more privileged class, they had come to look beyond the regiment for their advancement. Duncan Arbuthnott, killed at Sabugal, had been almost the only aristocrat to defy this pattern – for he had continued to serve with his company and had lost his life in doing so, whereas others among the handful of landed types who had sailed with the battalion soon concluded that a staff appointment was a more certain route to promotion. Such a post would locate them closer to men of influence and a little further from the bullets. Lieutenant Harry Smith (from a landed but not titled family) became ‘brigade major’ or principal staff officer to the commander of the Light Division’s Left Brigade at about this time. Captain, the Honourable James Stewart, while technically remaining in command of the 1st Company, actually served in a series of staff appointments after arriving in Portugal. Dudley St Leger Hill had left the 95th in August 1810, gaining two steps in rapid succession by going via the West Indian Rangers to the Portuguese Cacadores.
Captain Hercules Pakenham,