Fig. 1: Monument to Major–General John Randoll Mackenzie (c.1763–1809) and Brigadier–General Ernst Langwerth (1757–1809).
By the firm of Bacon and Manning (designed by Charles Manning (1777–1812), executed by Samuel Manning (1786–1842)).
Signed ‘C. MANNING. INVT‘ [left] ‘S. MANNING, FECT’ [right]
1812–15
White marble in Portland Stone frame.
Church Floor, North Transept, Centre Aisle.
Inscription:
NATIONAL MONUMENT
TO MAJOR–GENERAL
J. R. MACKENZIE,
AND BRIGADIER–GENERAL
E. LANGWORTH,
WHO FELL AT
TALAVERA,
JULY 28TH.
MDCCCIX
Introduction
Bacon and Manning’s charming monument to two officers who fell in the Battle of Talavera, near Madrid, Spain on 28 July 1809, sits in an elevated position in the North Transept. It was one of several monuments provided by the sculptural firm during the Napoleonic wars, and shows a distraught figure of Victory grieving over a classical sarcophagus which is decorated with two wreaths to represent the fallen officers. To the right, two putti, who symbolise ‘the sons of Britain’, are recounting the heroic deeds of the dead soldiers. The standing putto, with oak leaves in his hair, leans on a British standard and a shield, decorated with the Union Flag; the seated figure on the right, leaning over the head of a cannon, wears a classical helmet and holds a modern French Eagle standard which has been broken from its staff. The putto cradles, perhaps even strokes, the standard as if it is a real bird, displaying it to the other child.
The monument was voted two years after the battle and commemorates the two highest–ranking officers amongst the dead. Talavera was one of bloodiest battles of the Peninsular War (1808–1814), in which British forces acted in collaboration with Spanish and Portuguese forces to expel the French occupying army in the Iberian peninsula. Troops under the Duke of Wellington successfully defeated the French in Portugal in 1809 and pressed on into Spain in a move to take Madrid. At Talavera the British forces met a larger French force, but over two days of fighting repulsed a wave of attacks. Although presented by some as a great victory in Britain, it was in reality a brave resistance, and was soon followed by the retreat of Wellington’s forces back to Portugal. The Scottish commander of the 3rd Division of the British army, J.R. Mackenzie, was killed in a musketry battle that proved vital to the outcome at Talavera. Ernst von Langwerth, who died in a volley of grape–shot, was the commander of the 3rd Brigade of the King’s German Legion (KGL), the Hanoverian army that owed their allegiance to the Elector of Hanover (George III of Britain). He fought on Wellington’s staff throughout the Peninsular campaign, and is the first non–British national celebrated on a monument in St Paul’s Cathedral. At Talavera the KGL was said to have captured three French eagle standards, a story which must have occasioned Manning’s choice of iconography for the monument.
The Commission
The battle at Talavera and the deaths of Mackenzie and Langwerth were reported in Wellington’s dispatch of 29 July 1809. Wellington reported that his forces had repulsed several French attacks on 27 – 28 July at Talavera de la Reyna, although there was a heavy loss of life. The initial estimates were that 5367 British men had lost their lives in a battle in which the British forces had been outnumbered two to one by the French. Wellington had ‘particularly to lament the loss of Major–General Mackenzie, who had distinguished himself on the 27th; and of Brigadier–General Langwerth, of the King’s German Legion’ (Morning Chronicle 16 August 1809).
There were mixed feelings about the battle expressed in Parliament, where members argued over whether this had been a victory or not, and several members expressed a belief that Wellington had been hasty to take his troops into Spain at all (a view bolstered by the subsequent retreat). Elsewhere, the press took a more bombastic view with some reports carrying the strapline ‘Glorious Victory in Spain’, whilst admitting it was ‘dearly purchased’ (Lancaster Gazette, 19 August 1809). Wellington had been shot in the shoulder, the Spanish had proved solid allies – a statement which was only partially true, as the relationship between Wellington and the superannuated and immobile General Cuesta had been a rocky one – and the victory was ‘glorious’ and ‘brilliant’.’The Gentleman’s Magazine was more circumspect about the dispatch, saying:
Whatever may be the final issue of the contest in the Peninsular, [it] will be read by every lover of his country, with mingled emotions of admiration and pride, as affording a decided proof of the unconquerable valour, discipline, and enthusiasm of the British arm. (Gentleman’s Magazine, vol. 106, 1809)
Although the Tory government brought forward a motion to give thanks to Wellington for the battle, there was notable dissent. In the House of Lords, the Prime Minister Lord Liverpool proposed the motion of thanks but began defensively by countermanding the notion that the entry into Spain was a ‘rash undertaking’. On the contrary, he argued, the operation was in fact ‘well considered, wisely planned, and deliberately executed’. Twenty thousand British men, largely without the aid of Spanish troops, had faced fifty thousand French and stood firm:
Could any action be more decisive? Could any be more glorious to the British arms, when you take into consideration the inequality of numbers? This victory, my lords, was attended with unerring proofs of its brilliant and decisive nature. (Hansard, 26 January 1810, p.132).
Even Wellington’s subsequent retreat was presented as proof of his prudence. Liverpool threatened that even the mildest opposition to such a straightforward motion could have fatal consequences in undermining the morale of the army:
It is of the last importance that such victories as that of Talavera should be rewarded by every tribute of honour and praise this House can bestow. If we refuse to reward the valiant deeds of our army, by every approbation we can bestow, we take from them every incitement to valour; we deprive them of those laurels which constitute the soldier’s honour and his fame […] and if you refuse such a tribute to the transcendent merits of the survivors and the glorious memory of the slain, you will act unjustly to the army, and disrespectfully to the devotion of those who are dead. (ibid., p.134)
There was some explicit opposition to the motion: the Earl of Suffolk expressed the view that it was wrong to enter Spain, and especially to do so with only a fraction of the British forces available. Earl Grey pithily stated his opposition on the grounds that ‘he had yet to learn that it was a victory’ (ibid., p.140). Nevertheless, the government carried the day, and the thanks were put. Wellington was, as a result, also ennobled with the title Viscount Talavera.
It was not until the following year, however, that a monument was proposed to the dead of Talavera de la Reyna. When Spencer Perceval, the Chancellor of the Exchequer who had carried the vote of thanks through the Commons, rose to propose the monument in June 1811 he excused the delay with a mea culpa:
a person must have arrived at a certain military rank before such an honour was paid to his memory. Major–General Mackenzie and Brigadier–General Langworth were of that rank, and he took some shame to himself for not having proposed it before. The fact was that when he moved the vote of thanks on the former occasion, it was the first time he had ever made a similar motion, and he did not then know that even the rank of major–general was sufficient to have such a public honour bestowed; but upon enquiry he found that it was usual (Hansard, vol. 20, 24 June 1811, p.746).
Perceval went on to briefly touch upon the merits of General Mackenzie ‘which were eminently displayed in the command of the advanced guard of Talavera,’ and ‘after bestowing commendations on brigadier–general Langworth [sic], an officer in the German Legion’ he went on to propose a monument via the usual instrument of a ‘humble address’ to the Prince Regent (ibid., p.746). The costs were to be borne, as usual, by the state. There had been a certain amount of confusion, as Perceval had apparently given the impression that he was about to propose a monument to Lieutenant–Colonel William Myers in memory of the recent Battle at Albuera. Perceval explained that such a monument would be inappropriate as Myers was not of sufficient rank (although, in the end a monument was voted to Myers). It is unclear how such a misunderstanding came about, or if Perceval needed to change his plan at the last minute under advice, but the motion for a monument to Mackenzie and Langwerth passed without dissent. One newspaper commented, quoting Perceval beyond what was recorded in Hansard:
General Langwerth was of the German Legion, but his being a foreigner should not preclude him from this distinction. (Caledonian Mercury, 27 June 1811)
Major-General Mackenzie
Major–General John Randoll Mackenzie of Suddie was from the illustrious and ancient clan Mackenzie of Ross. He was from a comfortable background, possessed a family fortune, and had served as the Member of Parliament for Tain Burghs (1806 – 8) and Sutherland (1808 – 9). He was principally, however, a career soldier and in his final years became a trusted general under Wellington.
He was born around 1763, the son of William Mackenzie of Suddie. In 1778 he joined the marines as a 2nd Lieutenant, serving under his uncle John Mackenzie. He was ordered to the Chatham Division in September 1778 (London Gazette 15 – 19 September 1778). Quickly promoted to 1st Lieutenant and Adjutant in November 1780, he served for a time in India under another uncle, Norman Macleod. Whilst there he met Lord Cornwallis, and Macleod immediately pushed the case with Cornwallis for Mackenzie’s advancement. The young man recognised that Cornwallis was ‘very cautious’ and he doesn’t seem to have gained any preferment as a result (Fisher 1986).
In 1790 Mackenzie’s father settled the Suddie estate upon him, and in 1791 he inherited a fortune from his uncle. That year he was still listed as a 1st Lieutenant, although he seems to have resigned his commission in the Marines. By 1793 he was serving as a Lieutenant in the 7th Foot, when he was promoted in August to the rank of Captain. The same year he joined the 2nd Battalion of the 78th Foot, a regiment founded by the head of clan Mackenzie, Francis Humberston Mackenzie, Lord Seaforth. Hereafter the promotions came fast: in August 1794 he was listed as receiving a promotion to Major; in November he was raised to Lieutenant–Colonel. He was amongst the small force of the 78th under Sir James Henry Craig that were sent to support the seizing of the Cape of Good Hope from the Dutch in 1795. In February 1796 he was appointed to the 1st Battalion of the 78th and posted back to India, where he remained until 1801. He was, apparently, much respected by his regimental colleagues and ‘if his service in the east was not marked by any brilliant professional event, it was because the situation of that country, during his stay in it, did not call for any active exertion’ (Gentleman’s Magazine, August 1809, p.780).
Back in Britain, notwithstanding some tension with Seaforth over his slow recruitment for the 2nd Battalion, Mackenzie was promoted to Colonel, and in 1803 Brigadier, working on the Northern Staff commanding the militia in Scotland. He was Governor of Alderney in 1806 and commanded the 78th Foot at the Battle of Maida in Sicily the same year. He fought at El Hamet in Egypt in 1807. In 1806 Seaforth had put him forward as MP for Tain Burghs. He was not a very active member, although he was thought to be supportive of the Ministry of all the Talents, who were looking to make peace with France, and who passed the Abolition of the Slave Trade Bill in 1807. When they fell from power, he moved into opposition, joining a vote in 1808 against the government for ordering the second assault on Copenhagen in 1807, having been granted leave to vote by the army.
He was promoted to Major–General in April 1808 and sailed in October as part of Sir David Baird’s force to Corruna. Mackenzie’s diaries of his time serving in the Peninsular War survive in the British Library and are a useful resource for military historians. They show he was extremely keen to be a part of the main force linking up with Sir John Moore in Spain, and he was acutely disappointed to be appointed instead to command the troops in Lisbon: even though the tumult that surrounded the command of the British army in the Peninsular meant that he was temporarily in overall command of the forces in Lisbon. In February 1809 he was ordered to Cadiz to aid the local forces in their resistance to the French forces. Once there, however, his men were not given permission by the Spanish governor to disembark, for fear that local opinion would respond badly to British troops marching into the town. Mackenzie was very impressed by the beauty and cleanliness of Cadiz, but constantly annoyed by the Spanish leaders, whom he found slow, timid, deluded and ‘silly’. Publicly, he seems to have been an impressive model of diplomacy, navigating local concerns, but ultimately submitting to the order from home that he was not, now, to occupy Cadiz (Peninsular Journal 1809, Napoleon Series 2018).
Mackenzie was ordered back to Lisbon in March 1809, where the new commander of the peninsular forces was Sir Arthur Wellesley (soon to be Duke of Wellington). Following the retreat from Corunna and the death of Moore, the British were preparing for a renewed French invasion of Portugal, and Wellington posted Mackenzie to the eastern frontier to guard against invasion, whilst the principal force headed North. Mackenzie had command of a brigade amounting to about 4500 British troops and 7000 Portuguese, based at Abrantes, although he was again disappointed not to be a part of the main action under Wellington in the North. He was concerned in case his role in the political opposition had antagonised Wellington, who, he feared, was giving him lesser positions as a result, and that his ‘political connections have occasioned any of the rubs I have met with in the line of my profession’. Mackenzie’s diaries frequently complain at missing out on the action, and he particularly disliked having to command the Portuguese forces: ‘a troublesome command, in which there is much reputation to be lost, but little to be acquired’ (Mackenzie Papers, vol. 15, quoted in Napoleon Series).
Mackenzie needn’t have feared, as a few weeks later Wellington gave him command of the third division of the British army in the advance to enter Spain (the Talavera campaign). Mackenzie’s men formed the rear–guard and crossed the Alberche river, marching to a group of buildings known as the Casa de Salinas, where they were ambushed by a major French attack on the afternoon of 27 July. Mackenzie led a steady withdrawal of his men, although with considerable losses. The Spanish General Gregorio Cuesta later wrote in his account of Talavera:
The regularity, steadiness, and fortitude of all these troops, as well as the military talents of General Mackenzie, were conspicuous in every movement, and this officer is deserving of the highest praise and admiration for the coolness and serenity with which he withdrew this division to the left of the British army. (Cobbett’s Political Register, vol. 16, 1809 quoted in Napoleon Series, December 2017).
Wellington, in his dispatch, said that he had ‘particular reason for being satisfied with the manner in which Major-General Mackenzie withdrew his advance guard’ (Morning Chronicle 16 August 1809). Mackenzie’s brigade managed to withdraw through a wooded area to open ground, whilst driving back the French attack, giving the other brigades a chance to reform and bring forward the infantry and cavalry.
In the main engagement on 28 July, Mackenzie’s brigade again distinguished themselves when they stepped in to assist General Sherbrooke’s division, who had hastily over-advanced into French lines, only to find themselves trapped, shattered, and slaughtered. Mackenzie’s brigade came forward to face the advancing French force under General Horace Sebastiani and allowed the disordered British troops to fall in behind them and rally. A furious musketry battle lasted for about twenty minutes. in which Mackenzie was killed, along with about 600 of his 2000 men. With the help of a charge of Light Dragoons, Mackenzie’s division held firm and Sebastiani retreated with many losses.
Historians from Sir Charles Oman to Rory Muir have considered Mackenzie’s role in stalling the French attack to have been a vital moment in the stand at Talavera, and possibly the most important action in the course of the battle. Oman wrote that ‘on this point the battle was saved: the main credit must go to Mackenzie’s brigade, which has never received the praise that was its due’ (Oman 1906, p.541)., Certainly the artist Richard Westall appeared to endorse this narrative of the events in his 1819 print of the Battle of Talavera, a series of history paintings which purported to show the principal moments on which Wellington’s victories hinged (Fig. 2). In it the Major-General has fallen dramatically from his horse, his foot still caught in the stirrups, into the cradling arms of a redcoat. As he falls, the British forces advance.
Fig. 2: T. Fielding after Richard Westall The Battle of Talavera [death of Mackenzie], engraved for Victories of the Duke of Wellington, London 1819 (public domain).
One obituary concluded that Mackenzie was:
A zealous, steady, cool, soldier; a mild and most friendly man. The Service loses in him a most excellent officer; his friends an estimable and amiable man. The 78th adored him and will long lament him. (Gentleman’s Magazine, 1809, p.780)
These seem to have been sentiments shared by many in their dealings with Mackenzie. Those who met him in Spain found him immensely capable and cool–headed. One laudatory account by a fellow Scotsman called him ‘a man of the highest honour, most pleasing disposition, and agreeable manners – a universal favourite’ (Statistical Account 1840, p.1). He was unmarried and did not have any heirs, the estate at Suddie devolving to his only sibling, a Mrs Potts, who also had no children.