of the 14th Light Dragoons, which had not followed the rest of
Arentschildt’s brigade to the right.
[588] See Schwertfeger’s _History of the German Legion_, i. p.
378.
That the pursuit was misdirected was a most lamentable chance for
Wellington. If it had been urged in the right direction, the Army of
Portugal would have been annihilated as a fighting-body, and would
never have been able to make head again in the autumn. For the forest
of Alba de Tormes was full of nothing but a disorderly crowd, making
the best of its way towards the bridge, with no proper rearguard and
no commander in charge of the retreat. Clausel, wounded in the foot,
was being looked after by the surgeons in Alba, and was barely able
to mount his horse next day. The rout was complete: ‘a shapeless
mass of soldiery was rolling down the road like a torrent--infantry,
cavalry, artillery, wagons, carts, baggage-mules, the reserve park of
the artillery drawn by oxen, were all mixed up. The men, shouting,
swearing, running, were out of all order, each one looking after
himself alone--a complete stampede. The panic was inexplicable to one
who, coming from the extreme rear, knew that there was no pursuit by
the enemy to justify the terror shown. I had to stand off far from the
road, for if I had got near it, I should have been swept off by the
torrent in spite of myself[589].’ So writes the officer, already twice
quoted for the narrative of the end of the battle, whose regiment,
still hanging together in the most creditable fashion, brought up
the rear of the retreat. It is clear that any sort of a pursuit would
have produced such a general block at the bridge-head that a disaster
like that of Leipzig must have followed, and the whole of the rear of
the Army of Portugal, brought up against the river Tormes, must have
surrendered _en masse_.
[589] Lemonnier-Delafosse, p. 164.
From eight o’clock at night till three in the morning the routed army
was streaming across the bridge and the ford. Once covered by the
Tormes some regiments regained a certain order, but many thousands of
fugitives, pressing on ahead in unthinking panic, were scattered all
over the country-side, and did not come back to their colours for many
days, or even weeks.
The actual loss of the Army of Portugal would appear to have been some
14,000 to 15,000 men, not including the ‘missing,’ who afterwards
turned up and came back to the ranks. Marmont in his dispatch had the
effrontery to write that he lost only 6,000 men[590], and 9 guns: a
statement only equalled in mendacity by Soult’s assertion that Albuera
had cost him but 2,800 casualties[591]. No general list of losses by
regiments was ever given to Napoleon, though he demanded it: but a
return proposing to include the casualties not only of Salamanca but
of the minor combats of Castrillo and Garcia Hernandez was drawn up,
giving a total of 12,435[592]. On the whole, however, it would be safe
to allow for 14,000 men as the total loss, exclusive of stragglers.
Among officers of rank the Commander-in-Chief was wounded: Ferey
and Thomières were killed: the latter died inside the English lines
after the battle. Clausel and Bonnet were both wounded, the former
slightly, the latter severely, so that four of the eight divisional
generals of infantry were hit. Of the brigadiers, Desgraviers (division
Thomières) was mortally and Menne (division Foy) severely wounded.
The trophies lost were 2 eagles (those of the 22nd and 101st), 6
other colours[593], and 20 guns[594]. Of these last 12 represented
the divisional batteries of Thomières and Bonnet, which were taken
whole, and the other 8, as it would seem, pieces captured from the
long line of batteries on Maucune’s flank, which was rolled up when Le
Marchant and Leith swept the plateau in their triumphant advance. Of
the eight French divisions those of Thomières and Bonnet would appear
to have lost about 2,200 men apiece, Maucune nearly 2,000, Clausel,
Brennier, and Ferey above 1,200 each, Sarrut perhaps 500: Foy’s very
heavy losses nearly all fell on the next day. The cavalry, with 43
officers hit, must account for at least 500 more of the total[595], and
the artillery must have lost, along with their 20 guns, at least 300
or 400 gunners[596]. Of prisoners (wounded and unwounded), there were
according to Wellington’s dispatch 137 officers[597] and nearly 7,000
men.
[590] Marmont to Berthier, Tudela, July 31, in his _Mémoires_,
iv. p. 448.
[591] See vol. iv. p. 295.
[592] viz. killed or prisoners--officers 162, men 3,867;
wounded--officers 232, men 7,529; _traînards_, 645 men; 12 guns
and 2 eagles missing. This return is in the Paris archives. It
is certainly incomplete: 60 officers were killed, 137 prisoners,
which makes 197 _tués ou pris_ instead of 162. And 20 guns were
lost.
[593] A regiment whose 1st battalion was elsewhere carried not
an eagle but a simple standard per battalion instead. Of such
regiments, wanting their senior battalion and therefore their
eagle, there were with Marmont three. Two, the 66th and 82nd,
were in Maucune’s division, one, the 26th, in Ferey’s. The
colours probably belonged to some of these, of which several were
much cut up, especially the 66th.
[594] The returns of the Army of Portugal show a deficiency of
20 guns between July 15 and August 1, of which 12 represent
the divisional batteries of Thomières and Bonnet, which have
completely disappeared. Wellington says, ‘official returns
account for only 11 guns taken, but it is believed that 20 have
fallen into our hands.’ This was correct.
[595] The deficiency in cavalry rank and file shown by the muster
rolls between July 15 and August 1 was 512.
[596] Perhaps more: for the Reserve Artillery and Park alone show
1,450 rank and file on July 15 and only 707 on August 1.
[597] Sixty-three officers arrived in England as the Salamanca
batch of prisoners; of these some were wounded, for their
names occur both in Martinien’s tables as _blessés_, and in
the Transport Office returns at the Record Office as prisoners
shipped off. The remainder of the 137 were badly wounded, and
came later, or died in hospital.
Wellington returned his loss in the British units as 3,129, in the
Portuguese as 2,078: of España’s Spaniards 2 were killed and 4 wounded.
This makes up the total of 5,173, sent off immediately after the
battle. The separate Portuguese return forwarded by Beresford to Lisbon
gives the loss of the troops of that nation as somewhat less--1,637
instead of 2,078: the difference of 441 is partly to be accounted
for by the reappearance of stragglers who were entered as ‘missing’
in the first casualty-sheet, but cannot entirely explain itself in
that fashion. Which of the returns is the more accurate it is hard
to be sure, but a prima facie preference would naturally be given to
the later and more carefully detailed document. Taking British and
Portuguese together, it is clear that the 6th Division, which lost
1,500 men, was far the hardest hit. The 3rd and 5th, which decided the
day on the right, got off easily, with a little more than 500 each: the
4th Division, owing to the mishap to the Fusilier brigade and Stubbs’s
Portuguese, had very nearly 1,000 casualties. Pack’s five battalions
lost 386 men in the one short episode of the battle in which they were
engaged, the unsuccessful attack on the Great Arapile, and were lucky
to fare no worse. The cavalry total of 173 killed and wounded was
also very moderate considering the good work that the brigades of Le
Marchant, D’Urban, and Arentschildt performed. In the 1st, 7th, and
Light Divisions, the trifling losses were all in the flank-companies
sent out in skirmishing line: of the battalions none was engaged as
a whole[598]. The artillery were overmatched by the French guns all
through the day, and it is surprising to find that they returned only
four men killed, and ten wounded. The casualty list of officers of high
rank was disproportionately large--not only was Le Marchant killed, but
Marshal Beresford, Stapleton Cotton, commanding the cavalry[599], and
Leith and Cole, each a divisional general, were disabled. Of officers
in the Portuguese service, Collins, commanding a brigade of the 7th
Division, was mortally hurt, and the Conde de Rezende, who led the
Portuguese of the 6th Division, was wounded.
[598] The 7th Division would have had practically no loss but
for the skirmishing in the early morning near Nuestra Señora de
la Peña, and the heaviest item in the 1st Division casualties
was the 62 men of the Guards’ flank-companies who were hit while
defending the village of Arapiles.
[599] Cotton was shot after the battle was over by a caçador
sentry, whose challenge to halt he had disregarded while riding
back from the pursuit.
The victory of Salamanca was certainly an astonishing feat of rapid
decision and instantaneous action. The epigrammatic description of it
as ‘the beating of 40,000 men in forty minutes’ hardly over-states its
triumphant celerity: before that time had elapsed, from the moment when
Pakenham and Leith struck the French left, the battle was undoubtedly
in such a condition that the enemy had no chance left--he could only
settle whether his retreat should be more or less prompt. Clausel chose
to make a hopeless counter-offensive move, and so prolonged the fight
till dark--he would probably have been wiser to break off at once, and
to retreat at six o’clock, covering his routed left with his intact
reserve divisions. He would certainly have lost several thousand men
less if he had retired after repulsing Cole and Pack, and had made no
attempt to press the advantage that he had gained over them. It may be
argued in his defence that the last hour of battle, costly though it
proved to him, prevented Wellington’s pursuit from commencing in the
daylight, an undoubted boon to the defeated army. But at the most the
victor would have had only one hour at his disposition before dusk; the
French were taking refuge in a forest, where orderly pursuit would have
been difficult; and looking at Wellington’s usual methods of utilizing
a victory (e. g. Vittoria) we may feel doubtful whether the beaten
enemy--if covered by Sarrut, Ferey, and Foy, as a regular rearguard,
would have suffered more than he actually did. For Wellington’s whole
idea of pursuit turned on the false notion that the castle, bridge,
and ford of Alba de Tormes were still blocked by the Spaniards whom he
had left there. By the time that he had discovered that the enemy was
not retreating towards Huerta and Villa Gonzalo, but escaping over the
Tormes in some other way, the hour would have been late.
Undoubtedly the best summary and encomium of Wellington’s tactics on
this eventful day is that of an honest enemy, the very capable and
clear-sighted Foy, who wrote in his diary six days after the fight[600]:
[600] Diary in _Vie militaire_, ed. Girod de l’Ain, p. 178.
‘The battle of Salamanca is the most masterly in its management,
the most considerable in the number of troops engaged, and the most
important in results of all the victories that the English have gained
in these latter days. It raises Lord Wellington almost to the level of
Marlborough. Hitherto we had been aware of his prudence, his eye for
choosing a position, and his skill in utilizing it. At Salamanca he
has shown himself a great and able master of manœuvres. He kept his
dispositions concealed for almost the whole day: he waited till we
were committed to our movement before he developed his own: he played
a safe game[601]: he fought in the oblique order--it was a battle in
the style of Frederic the Great. As for ourselves, we had no definite
intention of bringing on a battle, so that we found ourselves let in
for it without any preliminary arrangements having been made. The
army was moving without much impulse or supervision, and what little
there was stopped with the wounding of the Marshal.’ In another note
he adds: ‘The Duke of Ragusa committed us to the action--he brought
it on contrary to Clausel’s advice. The left was already checked when
he received his wound: after that moment it was impossible either to
refuse to fight, or to give the fight a good direction: all that could
be done was to attenuate the sum of the disaster--that Clausel did.
There was no gap in the command--we should have been no better off if
the Marshal had never been hurt. He is not quite honest on that point
in his dispatch[602].’
[601] _Il a joué serré._ This idiom is explained in the
Dictionary of the Academy as ‘jouer sans rien hasarder.’
[602] Note in same volume, p. 177.
With this criticism we may undoubtedly agree. Foy has hit upon the
main points in which Salamanca was a startling revelation to the
contemporary observer--no one on the French side, and but few upon
the British, had yet realized that Wellington on the offensive could
be no less formidable and efficient than Wellington on the defensive.
After July 22, 1812, no opponent could dare to take liberties with
him, as Soult, Masséna, and Marmont, each in his turn, had done up
till that date. The possible penalty was now seen to be too great.
Moreover, the prestige of the British general was so much enhanced
that he could safely count upon it as not the least of his military
assets--as we shall see him do in the Pyrenees, a little more than a
year after Salamanca had been won. To the other thesis that Foy lays
down--the statement that Marmont had, by his initial movement, made
disaster inevitable before he was wounded--we may also give our assent.
Jourdan came to the same conclusion--the Emperor Napoleon also fixed
the responsibility in the same way. The Marshal’s ingenious special
pleading, to the effect that but for his personal misadventure he
would yet have won the day, will convince none but blind enemies of
Wellington. Of some of the charges which Napoleon laid to his charge
he must be acquitted: he did not know in the least that King Joseph
was on his way to join him from Madrid with 15,000 men. The dispatches
sent to warn him of this fact had all miscarried, and the last news
from the Army of the Centre which had reached him had intimated that
no immediate help was to be expected from that quarter. Nor was he
wrong in not waiting for the succours from Caffarelli: these were so
trifling--800 sabres and one horse battery--that their presence or
absence could make little difference in the battle.
But the Marshal’s flagrant and irreparable fault was that, having made
up his mind that Wellington would not fight under any provocation--a
conclusion for which the earlier episodes of the campaign gave him some
justification--he got his army into a position in which he had battle
suddenly forced upon him, at a moment when he was not in a position to
accept it with advantage. The attempt to turn Wellington’s right wing
on the afternoon of July 22nd was an unpardonable liberty, only taken
because the Marshal had come to despise his opponent. The liberty was
resented in the most forcible way--and there was no means of avoiding
disaster when Thomières and Maucune had once started out on their rash
turning movement.
SECTION XXXIII: CHAPTER VIII
THE CONSEQUENCES OF SALAMANCA
The dawn of July 23rd revealed to Wellington that the French army had
passed the Tormes at the bridge and forts of Alba, and that nothing
remained on the western bank of the river save small parties of
fugitives and wounded, who had lost their way in the forest. Some of
these were gleaned up by Anson’s and Bock’s brigades of cavalry, who
were pushed forward to search the woods and seek for the enemy. Anson’s
patrols reached the bridge, and found a French rearguard watching it.
This was composed of Foy’s division, to whom Clausel had committed the
covering of his retreat. It cleared off, after firing a few shots. Foy
had been told to block the passage till 9 o’clock, but went off long
before, when the disordered main body had got a good start. On the
report that he was gone, Wellington sent Anson’s squadrons across the
bridge of Alba de Tormes, while Bock forded the river lower down at La
Encina. The state of the roads, strewn with baggage and wounded men,
showed that the French had used all the three roads leading east from
Alba[603], and were on their way to Arevalo, not towards their base at
Valladolid: to have marched in that direction would have brought them
right across the front of the advancing British army. Wellington sent
out detachments on all the roads which the enemy had taken, but urged
the main pursuit by the central and most important road, that by Garcia
Hernandez on Peñaranda. Contrary to his wont, he pushed on this day
with great celerity, riding himself with the head of the column formed
by the main body of Anson’s light dragoons. This vanguard was followed,
at some distance, by the 1st and Light Divisions. Those infantry units
which had fought hard on the previous day were allowed a rest. About
seven miles beyond Alba de Tormes Anson’s patrols came upon a regular
rearguard of the enemy, behind the Caballero brook (a tributary of the
Almar), in and about the village of Garcia Hernandez. This was, of
course, Foy and the French 1st Division, the only troops in Clausel’s
army which had not been seriously engaged in the battle. They were
accompanied by a battery and a brigade of Curto’s _chasseurs_. Around
and about the formed troops scattered parties were visible--the village
was full of men drawing water from the wells. On the approach of the
British cavalry column--the infantry were still miles behind--Foy
prepared to resume his retreat, the cavalry drew up on a rising ground,
to the north of Garcia Hernandez, to cover the movement: the leading
regiments of the foot started off at once along the high-road, the
others halted for a space, to the right of the _chasseurs_, out of
sight of the British, whose view of them was intercepted by the slope
on which the French cavalry were drawn up.
[603] See Tomkinson’s _Diary_, p. 190. He gives the three roads
used as (1) Alba, Mancera de Abaxo, Junialcon; (2) Alba, Garcia
Hernandez, Peñaranda; (3) Encina, Zorita, Cebolla [names all badly
spelled]. It is doubtful whether the troops on the last road were
not disorderly masses of fugitives only. The bulk of the army
certainly went by Peñaranda.
Wellington, as it seems, saw only the hostile squadrons, and resolved
to drive them off without delay, in order to be able to press in upon
the infantry columns which were retiring farther away. He directed
Anson to attack the _chasseurs_ with so much of his brigade as was
up at the front: several squadrons were absent, some guarding the
prisoners of yesterday, others exploring on distant roads. Two
squadrons each of the 11th and 16th Light Dragoons delivered the
frontal attack on the French brigade, while the leading squadrons of
Bock’s brigade, which was coming up rapidly from the flank, and was not
yet formed in line, were to turn its right wing.
The French light cavalry, which had been much mauled on the preceding
day, and was evidently in no fighting mood, gave way precipitately
before the attack of the Light Dragoons, and rode off in confusion to
their own right rear. There was no time for Bock’s Germans to come up
with them: but the leading squadrons of the 1st Heavy Dragoons of the
Legion, pushing on in pursuit, received, to their surprise, a heavy
volley in their flank from a French battalion in square, which they had
not noticed in their advance.
There were, in fact, two regiments of infantry to the right of the
routed _chasseurs_, and by the sudden flight of their comrades they
found themselves suddenly uncovered and engaged. They were the 6th
Léger and 76th Line, each two battalions strong, and counting together
about 2,400 bayonets. Of these the unit nearest the cavalry was a
battalion of the 76th in square: it was the fire of this body which
had struck the leading German squadron in flank, and thrown it into
disorder as it was charging the routed French horse. Farther to the
east were the other battalion of the 76th and the two of the 6th Léger,
on the slopes above the road, which here winds below the small eminence
which the French cavalry had occupied and the hill of La Serna, a long
and fairly steep height, which gives its name in many histories to the
combat that ensued.
What followed on the unexpected discovery of the French infantry was
the effect not of Wellington’s direct orders, nor of the leading of
the short-sighted Bock, who had hardly realized the situation when his
subordinates were already making their decision. It was entirely the
exploit of the gallant squadron-leaders of the two regiments of German
dragoons. They were coming up in a sort of échelon of squadrons, the
first regiment leading, so that when the fire of the French square
struck and disordered the leading unit, the responsibility for action
fell on the officers commanding the others. Captain von der Decken
who led the 3rd squadron determined without hesitation to charge the
French square--his men were already getting up speed, and the enemy
was but a short distance from him. Shouting to the squadron to throw
forward its right wing and ride home, he led it straight at the French.
The first fire of the square, delivered at eighty yards, brought down
several men and horses, and wounded (mortally as it proved in the end)
von der Decken himself. He kept his saddle, however, and only fell
when the second fire was given, at twenty yards range. This volley
was destructive, but did not break the impetus of the squadron, which
charged right home. In most cases where cavalry reached the bayonets of
a square during the Peninsular War, it had proved unable to break in,
and had recoiled with loss--like Craufurd’s squadrons at the combat
of Barquilla[604], and Montbrun’s at Fuentes de Oñoro. Here, however,
the rare feat of riding down well-formed infantry was performed--it is
said by several eye-witnesses that the breach was originally made by
a mortally-wounded horse, which reared right on top of the kneeling
front rank of the French, and then rolled over kicking, and bore down
six or eight men at once. Several dragoons leapt the bank of struggling
and overthrown soldiers, and broke into the rear ranks--thereupon the
whole square fell to pieces in disorder. Many of the Frenchmen were
hewn down, but the majority dropped their muskets and surrendered
unhurt. The lists of prisoners at the Record Office give the names of
sixteen officers of the 76th sent to England, of whom only two were
wounded. Of the rank and file not more than fifty, it is said, got
away[605]. Observers who came on the field later in the day noted with
curiosity the long lines of muskets laid down in orderly rows. This was
an astonishing achievement for a single squadron of 120 men--they had
captured or cut down five times their own numbers of veteran troops of
Ney’s old 6th Corps.
[604] See vol. iii. p. 255.
[605] I took the trouble to work out the names from the immense
list of prisoners at the Record Office, in order to test the
truth of the statement that the whole battalion was captured.
The following names appear from the 76th--Bailly, Cavie, Catrin,
Demarest, Denis, Duclos, Dupin, Dupont, Dusan, Gautier, Guimblot,
L’Huissier, Richard, Ravenal, besides two wounded officers,
Lambert and Martinot. In addition, one officer (Lebert) was
killed, and in Martinien’s _Liste des officiers tués et blessés_
we have five more down as wounded, Dessessard, Lanzavecchia,
Massibot, Norry, Rossignol. These may have died of their wounds,
and so never have reached England; or they may have escaped,
though wounded. The twenty-two names must represent practically
the whole of the officers of the battalion.
Some way to the right of this unlucky battalion were two more, forming
the 6th Léger. Seeing the havoc made of his comrades, and noting the
remaining squadrons of the Germans sweeping across the slope toward
him, the colonel of this regiment ordered his men to retreat uphill
and climb the steep slope behind. He hoped to get upon ground where
cavalry could not easily follow. The two battalions, still in column,
for they had not (like the 76th) formed square, moved hastily upwards:
the voices of officers were heard shouting, ‘_allongez le pas, gagnons
la hauteur_[606].’ The nearest enemy to them was the second squadron
of the 1st Dragoons K.G.L., led by Captain von Reizenstein, who put on
the pace when he saw the French scrambling higher, and came up with the
rearmost battalion before it was very far from the road. The two rear
companies faced about when the dragoons drew near, and delivered a fire
that was fairly effective, when it is considered that the men had been
going as hard as they could trot, and were halted and put into action
at a second’s notice. But it did not suffice to stop the dragoons,
who rode in, at the cost of many killed and wounded, and cut up the
companies that had stood to meet them: many men were sabred, more taken
prisoners. The rear of the column, however, scrambled uphill in a mass,
and there joined the other battalion of the 6th Léger, which formed
square on the sky-line. They had on their flank a squadron or so of
_chasseurs_, apparently a fragment of the brigade that had given way so
easily before Anson’s attack twenty minutes before.
[606] All this from Schwertfeger, i. p. 381.
Against this mass charged the leading squadrons of the 2nd Heavy
Dragoons K.G.L., which had at last come up to the front, and some
of the officers and men of the 1st, who had already done such good
work lower down the hill. The French square was not perfect or
regular--apparently it was disordered by the fugitives from the broken
battalion, who ran in for shelter, and formed up as best they could.
The charge of the Germans was delivered with splendid impetus--though
the regiment had been galloping for 300 yards uphill--and was
completely successful. The French _chasseurs_ rode off without
engaging: the ill-formed square crumpled up: many of the men threw
down their arms and surrendered, the rest dispersed and ran in coveys
along the slopes of the plateau, towards the nearest friendly troops.
These were the four battalions of the 39th and 69th Line, the surviving
regiments of the division. Foy himself was in one of the squares; his
surviving brigadier, Chemineau, in the other.
Intoxicated with the glorious successes that they had gained, a
large but disordered mass of the victorious dragoons rode after the
fugitives, and charged the nearest of the French squares--one of the
69th Line. The enemy held firm, their fire was given with effect, and
killed the officer who led this last effort (Captain von Uslar) and
many of his men. The rest swerved back, and rode away under a pelting
fire from the battalion that they had attacked and from the other
three, which lay close on its flank.
So ended the charge of Garcia Hernandez, the most dashing and
successful attack made by any of Wellington’s cavalry during the
whole war, as Foy--the best of witnesses--formally states in his
history[607]. Though not more destructive in its results than Le
Marchant’s onslaught on Maucune at Salamanca, it was a far more
difficult affair. For Le Marchant had charged troops not in square,
and already shaken by conflict with Leith’s division; while the
Germans attacked without any infantry support, and fell upon intact
battalions, of which two at least had formed square. Moreover, the
French were supported by artillery and cavalry, though the former
cleared off promptly, and the latter allowed themselves to be routed
very easily by Anson’s squadrons. Altogether it was a glorious first
experience of war for the Heavy Dragoons--neither of the regiments
had ever charged before, and they had seen but a little skirmishing
during the six months since their arrival at Lisbon. They were duly
granted the battle-honour, ‘Garcia Hernandez,’ which they continued to
bear on their guidons as long as Hanover was an independent state. Two
Hanoverian cavalry regiments of to-day in the Prussian army continue
to show it, as theoretical heirs of the old Heavy Dragoons. The most
astonishing feature of the exploit was that it was the sole work of
the squadron-leaders--Wellington had only given the general order to
attack--Bock had been with the fraction of the 1st Dragoons which
charged along with Anson, and was not directing the marvellous uphill
ride. It was a regimental triumph, not an exhibition of cavalry tactics
by the Commander-in-Chief or the brigadier[608].
[607] Foy, _Guerre de la Péninsule_, i. pp. 290-1.
[608] I have used for the narrative of this interesting fight
not only the numerous and valuable K.G.L. sources printed or
quoted by Beamish and Schwertfeger, but the letters of von
Hodenberg, aide-de-camp to Bock, lent me by his representative,
Major von Hodenberg, now resident in Hanover. For this officer’s
interesting career see _Blackwood_ for May 1912, where I
published large sections from these letters.
[Illustration: SALAMANCA.
Part of the field, showing approximate position at the moment of the
advance of the 6th Division about 7 p.m.]
[Illustration: Combat of GARCIA HERNANDEZ (July 23 1812)]
The losses of the victors were very heavy--the 1st Regiment had 2
officers and 28 men killed, 2 other officers wounded (one--von der
Decken--mortally), and 37 men. The 2nd Regiment lost 1 officer (von
Uslar) killed, with 21 men, and 1 officer and 29 men wounded. In
this total the striking figure is the high proportion of killed to
wounded--52 to 69--which bears witness to the murderous power of the
old musket-ball when delivered point-blank, into the bodies of men
who were pressing right up to the muzzles of the infantry in square.
There were six men missing to be added to the total of losses--127 in
all--whether these were individuals who were taken prisoners in the
last attempt to break the square of the 69th, or whether they were
mortally wounded men, whose horses carried them far from the scene of
action and whose bodies were not found, it is impossible to say. The
loss of 127 officers and men out of about 770 present was, however, by
no means disproportionately heavy, when the results of the charge are
considered.
Of the two French regiments engaged, a whole battalion of the 76th was
captured or destroyed--of the 27 officers with it one was killed, 5
wounded, 16 taken prisoners: taking the same proportion of its rank
and file, very few out of 650 can have escaped. The 6th Léger was less
completely annihilated, but it had its colonel (Molard) and 6 other
officers taken prisoners[609], and 8 more wounded, with about 500
rank and file taken or hurt. Allowing for some small losses to the
_chasseurs_, the total casualties of the French must have been about
1,100.
[609] Their names were the colonel, Molard (who died, a prisoner,
of his wounds, August 4), Baudart, Paulin, Piancet, Turpin,
Paris, Bouteille; they were verified in the prisoners-rolls at
the Record Office by me.
When the last charge of the Heavy Dragoons was over, Foy led his
surviving battalions off, followed at a distance by Anson’s brigade,
when it had re-formed. The Germans were too fatigued to do more: the
leading British infantry, the Light Division, was only just coming in
sight far to the rear. The pursuit, therefore, by the four British
squadrons had no further results--if they had chanced to have a horse
battery with them it might have been much more effective. Six miles
from Garcia Hernandez, Foy was relieved to find, waiting for him by
the roadside, the long-expected cavalry brigade from the Army of the
North--Chauvel’s 1st Hussars and 31st Chasseurs: these fresh squadrons
took up the rearguard duty for the rest of the day, and covered the
march of the infantry to Peñaranda.
From this day onward Wellington’s pursuit cannot be said to have been
urged with any great vigour. On the morning of the 24th the vanguard
entered Peñaranda, to find that the French had started off before
dawn. G. Anson’s brigade followed, accompanied this time by Bull’s
and Ross’s horse artillery, which had come up from the rear. The tail
of the enemy’s column was found at Aldea Seca, a few miles beyond
Peñaranda: he started off without firing a shot, and was out of sight
before more than two guns had been brought to shell him. It seems that
opportunities were lost this day--an intelligent observer remarks that
‘if only the whole brigade and twelve guns had come up, we might have
taken 500 of them--great part of the infantry were without arms[610].’
[610] Tomkinson’s _Diary_, p. 191.
That night the British head-quarters and vanguard were at Flores de
Avila, but the enemy were quite out of sight. ‘How they get on their
troops at such a rate I cannot conceive,’ wrote Wellington, ‘but they
left this about two in the morning, and they will arrive in Valladolid
to-morrow[611].’ He gave up all attempt at close or rapid pursuit
on the 25th, reporting to Lord Bathurst, ‘I find the troops so much
fatigued by the battle and their previous and subsequent marches, and
the enemy have got so far before our infantry, that I halted this
day, and have sent on only the light cavalry and guerrillas.’ After
this there was no prospect of doing any further harm to Clausel, or
of scattering his demoralized army before it had time to recover its
cohesion. ‘This does not look like the quick advance following up a
great victory,’ wrote a critical dragoon[612], ‘and I think they will
be let off too easily. The peasants report them as in a dreadful state:
all their cavalry, except a few for their rearguard, is employed in
carrying their sick.’ It may be taken for certain that a general of the
Napoleonic school would have urged on his cavalry at all costs--there
was plenty of it, and none save Le Marchant’s and Bock’s brigades had
suffered any serious loss. Nor can it be doubted that such a hunt would
have been richly rewarded by captures. Clausel wrote on the 25th that
he could only rally 22,000 men[613]; and as some 48,000 had fought at
Salamanca, and the actual losses seem to have been about 14,000, it is
clear that he must be allowing for over 12,000 stragglers and unarmed
fugitives--whom an active pursuit might have swept up.
[611] Wellington to Lord Bathurst, night of July 24.
_Dispatches_, ix. p. 309.
[612] Tomkinson, p. 191.
[613] Clausel to King Joseph from Arevalo. Joseph’s
_Correspondence_, ix. p. 54.
Wellington’s defence for the slowness of his movement would undoubtedly
have been that a headlong chase might have cost him over-much--he
would have lost too many men, and--what was even more important--too
many horses by forcing the pace. Clausel’s army had been put out of
action for some weeks by the battle of Salamanca--to smash it up
still further would give him no such profit as would justify the
expenditure of several thousands of his precious British troops. He
was looking forward to the possibility of having to fight Soult and
Suchet--not to speak of King Joseph--and wished to be as strong as
possible for the present. It is probable that he made a mistake in
holding back--Clausel, being left practically unmolested, was able
to rally his army somewhat sooner than his adversary calculated. By
August it was again able to give trouble: in October its strength was
sufficient to wreck the Burgos campaign. If it had been well hunted
in the last days of July, it would seem that no such reorganization
would have been possible--only negligible fragments of it should have
reached Valladolid or Burgos. Yet it must always be remembered that
economy of men was the cardinal necessity for Wellington--his total
British force was so small, the difficulty of getting up drafts and
reinforcements was so enormous, the total number of the enemy’s armies
in the Peninsula was so overpowering, that he could not afford to
thin down his regiments by the exhausting forced marches that were
necessary in an active pursuit. It would have been little profit to
him if he had exterminated the Army of Portugal, only to find himself
left victorious, indeed, but with a force so weak and so tired out that
further exertion was impossible. As it was, many of his battalions in
August showed only 300 bayonets in line[614], and only recovered their
strength, by the reappearance of Badajoz and Salamanca convalescents,
and the arrival of drafts, during the following winter.
[614] Already on the day of Salamanca there were eight battalions
in the army with less than 400 men present. See the tables in
Appendix.
It was at Flores de Avila on July 25th that Wellington received the
news that a new factor had come into the game. King Joseph had left
Madrid four days earlier with the Army of the Centre, and was marching
northward by the Guadarrama Pass and Villa Castin, with the obvious
intention of joining Marmont. This move would have been all-important
if it had taken place ten days earlier: but when the Army of Portugal
was in absolute rout, and flying by forced marches towards the Douro,
the appearance of the King was too late to be dangerous. He could not
strengthen the beaten army sufficiently to enable it to fight--and he
would expose himself to some peril if he continued his forward march,
and came any nearer to the British line of advance.
Joseph’s long hesitation and tardy start require a word of explanation.
It will be remembered[615] that his last communication which had
got through to Marmont was a dispatch dated June 30, in which he
had expressed his surprise that the Army of Portugal was refusing
battle, and stated that he could offer no immediate help. If Hill,
from Estremadura, should march to join Wellington, he had directed
that D’Erlon should move up in a similar fashion northward, and he
himself would come also, with all or part of the Army of the Centre.
But supposing that Hill should remain in the far south, beyond the
Guadiana, Joseph gave no promise of coming to Marmont’s aid. Indeed
he never mentioned this contingency at all, except to say that if
Wellington had not been joined by his lieutenant, ‘you should choose a
good position and give battle with all your troops united.’
[615] See chapter v above, pp. 394-5.
Since writing this epistle Joseph had experienced many searchings
of heart. On the very day on which it was sent off he had received
a dispatch from Soult, which filled him with dismay: the Duke of
Dalmatia said that he had forbidden D’Erlon to cross to the north
bank of the Tagus, even if it were certain that Hill and his corps
had gone to join Wellington. Writing in high wrath, the King, on July
2nd, threatened to remove Soult from his command in Andalusia. ‘If you
have formally forbidden D’Erlon to pass the Tagus, in case the English
force in Estremadura goes off to join the enemy’s main body, you have
given him orders contradictory to those which I sent both to him and
to you. You set your authority above mine, you refuse to recognize me
as Commander-in-Chief of the Armies of Spain. Consequently, placed as
I may be between the two alternatives--of either depriving myself of
the service of your talent and military experience, or of allowing the
powers confided to me by the Emperor to be broken in my hand almost as
soon as given--I can have no hesitation.... Painful as it is to me,
therefore, I accept the offer which you formerly made me, to resign
your command if I do not revoke my original order; for not only do I
refuse to revoke it, but I hereby repeat it again both to you and to
Comte d’Erlon. If you prefer to take this extreme step of disobedience,
resign your command to D’Erlon, as your senior general of division, and
he will take it up till the Emperor shall nominate your successor[616].’
[616] Joseph to Soult, Madrid, June 30. _Correspondence_ of
Joseph, ix. p. 42.
This angry dispatch was followed by another, written on July 6th, which
varied the original order to Soult in an important feature. For instead
of speaking of a northern movement of D’Erlon’s troops as consequent on
a similar transference of Hill’s corps to Castile, it makes no mention
of Hill, but prescribes a definite manœuvre without any reference to
the action of that British general. ‘Send at once to Toledo a force of
10,000 men: 8,000 infantry, 2,000 horse, with the men and horses for 12
guns. By leaving the guns behind, the march of the corps will be made
more rapid, and the roads are good.... I authorize you to evacuate any
part of the occupied territory that you may choose, in order to hasten
the departure of these 10,000 men, whose arrival I await with great
impatience[617].’
[617] _Correspondence_ of Joseph, ix. pp. 44-5.
Clearly it would take many days for these orders to get to Soult, who
was at this time before Cadiz. As a matter of fact they only reached
his hands on July 16th, and long before that date Joseph was becoming
very anxious at the state of affairs on the Douro. He got news that
Caffarelli, scared by Home Popham’s diversion, had sent no succours
to Marmont, and he received letters from Suchet, which showed him
that he could not count on any reinforcement from Valencia[618]. It
was certain that, even if Soult yielded to the peremptory orders sent
on July 2 and July 6, the detachment under D’Erlon could not reach
Toledo till somewhere about the 1st August. That it would start at all
seemed doubtful, in face of a letter of July 3 from D’Erlon, stating
that he was being ‘contained’ by no less than 30,000 men under Hill--a
scandalous perversion of fact, for Hill had not over two-thirds of that
force[619].
[618] Joseph to Clarke, July 13, _Correspondence_, ix. p. 45.
[619] For d’Erlon’s letter see Joseph to Clarke of July 17th;
_Correspondence_, ix. p. 48.
The days were running on, Marmont was still unsuccoured: it seemed
likely that neither from the North, from Valencia, nor from Andalusia,
would any help come to hand. The King grew more and more anxious--all
the more so because he had ceased to receive reports from Marmont,
since the line of communication with him had been cut by the
guerrilleros. Finally, on July 9th[620], he made up his mind that,
since no other help could be got for the Army of Portugal, he would
march himself with the Army of the Centre, even though to concentrate
it he must evacuate all New Castile and La Mancha, and even imperil the
safety of Madrid. On that day he issued orders to Treillard to evacuate
the valley of the Tagus--all the Talavera and Almaraz region--and to
the Rheinbund Germans to abandon La Mancha. All the small posts in
the direction of the eastern mountains were also drawn in, even those
watching the passes of the Somosierra and the Guadarrama. Only in
Toledo, Guadalajara, and Segovia, were small garrisons left behind. By
the morning of the 19th July[621] the most distant detachments had all
come in, and the Army of the Centre was concentrated at Madrid, about
14,000 strong, and able to spare 10,000 for the field when the capital
had been garrisoned. But the King resolved to wait two days longer
before marching, because he had just received news of the approach
of an unexpected but most welcome reinforcement. Early in the month
he had heard that Palombini’s Italian division of the Army of Aragon
was hunting the Empecinado and Mina in the direction of Calatayud and
Tudela. He had sent out a Spanish emissary with a letter to Palombini,
bidding him to draw in towards Madrid, if he had not already marched
to join Marmont, who had hoped to get his assistance. It does not seem
that the King had built much upon the results of this letter: orders
sent to Suchet’s troops had generally been disregarded. But it chanced
to reach the Italian general at Alfaro on the Ebro on July 12th, and
Palombini, having no opportunity of referring the responsibility to his
immediate commander, who was 200 miles away at Valencia, resolved to
obey. He marched for Soria and Siguenza, brushing off guerrillero bands
that strove to molest him, and sent to Joseph the news that he might be
expected at Madrid on the 21st. These tidings came to hand on the 18th,
and filled the King with such high satisfaction that he resolved to
wait for the Italian division. It arrived on the appointed day, having
made a most creditable forced march of 150 miles by mountain roads,
through a burnt-up and desolate country. Without leaving it even one
night’s rest at Madrid, the King started it off in company with his own
troops, which had been awaiting all day the signal for departure[622].
[620] This date is fixed by a letter of Joseph to Marmont, of
that day, in the Scovell ciphers. It never got to Marmont.
[621] Jourdan in his _Mémoires_ (p. 419) says that the
concentration took place on the 17th, but Joseph’s letter to
Clarke of July 18 says that Treillard’s dragoons would only reach
Naval Carnero on the 19th, which is conclusive.
[622] All this from Vacani, vi. p. 110, where the movements of
Palombini are very carefully detailed.
Joseph’s expeditionary force, thus increased to 14,000 men, consisted
of his Guards, horse and foot, one French brigade (28th and 75th
Ligne), D’Armagnac’s Germans (five battalions and one cavalry
regiment), Treillard’s strong division of dragoons, and part of
Hugo’s division of Spanish _Juramentados_, together with Palombini’s
detachment, which amounted to six battalions and a regiment of
dragoons. The garrisons of Madrid, Toledo, Segovia, and Guadalajara
were made up partly of _Juramentados_, and partly of the large body
of drafts for the Army of Andalusia, which had accumulated at Madrid
since the posts in the Sierra Morena had been given up in April. The
King had been in no hurry to send them on to Soult, and now found them
very useful. The command of the garrison was left to General Lafon
Blaniac, who was acting as governor of Madrid and Captain-General of
New Castile. A few days after Joseph’s departure a welcome addition
turned up, in the shape of Suchet’s garrison of Cuenca, under General
Maupoint, consisting of two battalions of the 16th regiment and a
squadron of _chasseurs_. On getting the King’s order to evacuate
Cuenca, this officer (like Palombini) had obeyed it, and, instead of
retiring on Valencia, had come on to Madrid, with his 1,000 men and
three millions of reals, representing the provincial treasury[623].
[623] Maupoint’s letter to the King, announcing his arrival at
Madrid on the 29th-30th July, was captured by guerrilleros, and
is in the Scovell collection of ciphers.
Having once collected his army, the King marched with great speed,
passed the defiles of the Guadarrama on the 22nd, and reached Espinar,
the great junction of roads in the province of Avila, next day. The
cavalry that night were at Villa Castin, eight miles farther to the
front, on the road to Arevalo and Valladolid. Here the news came to
hand, not from any authorized source but from the rumours of the
country-side, that Marmont had crossed the Douro on the 17th, and
was closely engaged with Wellington somewhere in the direction of
Salamanca. On receiving this information Joseph and Jourdan resolved
not to continue their march towards Valladolid, but to swerve westward,
with the intention of joining the Duke of Ragusa on the Tormes. Turning
off from the main road, the cavalry reached Villanueva de Gomez on the
night of the 24th; the King and the infantry got to Blasco Sancho.
Orders were issued for the whole army to march on Peñaranda next
morning. But during the hours of darkness rumours of the battle of
Salamanca and its results came to hand, and on the following morning
they were confirmed by the arrival of two Spanish emissaries, one
bearing a letter from the wounded Marmont, the other a second from
Clausel. The Marshal’s letter was insincere and inconclusive--after
giving a long account of the battle, which threw all the blame on
Maucune, he said that he had lost 5,000 men, the enemy infinitely
more (!), and that the army was falling back to take a position behind
the Eresma river[624], or perhaps behind the Douro. Clausel’s epistle
was a far more honest document; it said that he was in a state of
incapacity to resist Wellington, that he could not put even 20,000 men
in line for some days, that he must retreat as fast as possible on
Valladolid, to pick up his dépôts and magazines, which he must send
off without delay, and that he would then fall back on the Army of the
North. He distinctly told the King that, even if the Army of the Centre
joined him, they would be unable to resist Wellington for a moment.
He recommended Joseph to call up succours from Soult and Suchet: if
Wellington and the English main body marched on Madrid the Army of
Portugal would remain on the Douro, but only in that case. If pursued
by Wellington he must retire towards Burgos. He evidently regarded
any junction between his troops and the King’s as impracticable and
useless[625].
[624] Which falls into the Adaja near Olmedo, twenty miles south
of Valladolid.
[625] Clausel to Joseph, _Correspondance_, ix. pp. 54-5.
Confronted by this new and unpromising situation, Joseph and Jourdan
had to choose between two policies--they might retire towards Madrid
and cover the capital, in the hope that Soult might conceivably
have carried out the orders given him on July 6th, and have sent
a detachment toward Toledo and Madrid. Or they might, despite of
Clausel’s advice and warning, move northward towards the Douro and try
to get into communication with the Army of Portugal. If the direct road
by Arevalo to Valladolid was too dangerous, there remained another and
more circuitous route by Cuellar, which Wellington was too far off to
reach.
The King and Jourdan chose the first alternative without a moment’s
hesitation[626]: if they joined the Army of Portugal, they had
Clausel’s assurance that they could effect nothing. They would be
driven back on Burgos; Madrid would be exposed to a raid by any small
detachment that Wellington might send against it, and touch with Soult
and Suchet would be lost. The King, therefore, marched back by the
way that he had come, and had reached on the 26th the Venta de San
Rafael, at the foot of the Guadarrama pass. He had got so rapidly out
of Wellington’s way that their armies did not touch--save indeed that
a patrol of Arentschildt’s brigade surprised and captured near Arevalo
2 officers and 25 men of the King’s light cavalry[627]--Juramentado
_chasseurs_.
[626] ‘Certainement, c’était le meilleur,’ says Jourdan,
commenting on the choice years after.
[627] For this business see Hamilton’s _History of the 14th Light
Dragoons_, p. 109. The leader of the patrol, a Corporal Hanley of
that regiment, had only eight men, but surprised the _chasseurs_
in an inn, and bluffed them into surrender.
When informed that the Army of the Centre had fallen back in haste
toward Madrid, Wellington resolved that his duty was to continue
pushing Clausel northward, and away from the King. The latter might be
disregarded; his strength was known, and it was almost certain that he
would not be reinforced. For Hill had just sent in a report, which had
come through in four days, that Drouet was showing no signs of moving
toward Toledo; and he enclosed an intercepted dispatch of Soult’s,
which proved that the latter had no intention whatever of carrying
out the King’s oft-repeated orders[628]. Accordingly the British
head-quarters were moved on to Arevalo on the 27th of July, and to
Olmedo on the 28th. Anson’s and Arentschildt’s light cavalry went on in
front: they reported that the enemy was still in a complete state of
disorganization. He was burning the villages as he went, and leaving
many stragglers dead in the cornfields beside the road, for the wounded
were sinking by the way, and any marauders who went far from the main
column were being killed by the peasantry and the guerrilleros[629].
[628] See Wellington to Hill of July 26. _Dispatches_, ix. p.
314. The Soult letter is in the Scovell collection of ciphers.
[629] For details, see Tomkinson, p. 192.
Clausel crossed the Douro by the two bridges of Tudela and Puente de
Douro on the 27th-28th, leaving only some light troops to the south
of the river, and entered Valladolid, where he set to work at once to
evacuate all the more valuable stores, and so many of the sick and
wounded as could find transport, along the high-road to Palencia and
Burgos. The Anglo-Portuguese infantry was already approaching Medina
del Campo and Olmedo, while Santocildes, with the section of the
Army of Galicia which was not employed on the siege of Astorga, was
ordered to march past Toro and Tordesillas to threaten Valladolid from
the north bank of the Douro, and Silveira was directed to resume the
blockade of Zamora with his militia-division.
On the 29th the Light and 1st Divisions, Wellington’s infantry
vanguard, drove in the screen of light troops which Clausel had left
in front of the Douro: the French retired and blew up the bridges. But
this was of little avail, for the British cavalry forded the river at
Boecillo and continued their advance. Thereupon the enemy evacuated
the city of Valladolid, and withdrew along the direct road to Burgos,
save one division (Foy’s), which retreated excentrically, up the north
bank of the river toward Aranda. In Valladolid were found 17 guns,
800 sick and wounded, whose condition had rendered it impossible for
them to travel, and a large magazine filled with artillery material,
besides other stores. The people received Wellington with every
mark of enthusiasm, though they had the reputation of including a
greater proportion of _Afrancesados_ than any other city of northern
Spain[630]. They treated him to illuminations, a ball, and copious
harangues of congratulation. Meanwhile Anson’s brigade swept the
country to the east and north, and reported no enemy visible; while the
guerrillero Marquinez entered Palencia, and captured 300 stragglers
from Clausel’s rearguard. The French had gone back beyond the Arlanza
river, and were lying at Lerma, Torquemada, and Santa Maria del Campo,
ready to retreat to Burgos itself if any further pressure was applied.
It was not forthcoming--much to Clausel’s surprise--and he halted and
began to reorganize his shattered army. What survived of his train
and stores, his sick, and the _cadres_ of several skeleton battalions
were sent back to Burgos. The rest stood still, awaiting further
developments.
[630] See von Hodenberg’s letter concerning this in _Blackwood_
for June 1912.
Wellington, meanwhile, had brought none of his infantry north of the
Douro, though all were now near at hand, and the Light Division had
repaired the bridge of Tudela. He had resolved to turn his attention to
King Joseph and Madrid. Only Santocildes and his two Galician divisions
were ordered up to Valladolid (where they arrived on August 6th) to
support Anson’s cavalry, who took up cantonments at various villages
in front and to the flank of the city.
The movements of the King and his army on July 27th-31st had been
somewhat puzzling to the British general. On arriving at the foot of
the Guadarrama pass, they had halted, and then (instead of pursuing
the straight road to Madrid) had swerved off to Segovia, which lies on
the northern slope of the mountains, as if they had abandoned their
original intention of leaving the Army of Portugal to its own devices.
This flank march was the result of the receipt of letters borne by
Marmont’s aide-de-camp, Fabvier, which said that Clausel was no longer
being pursued with energy, and that it was possible that he might stop
on the Adaja and cover Valladolid[631]. It was a momentary inspiration,
with no reality behind it, for Clausel was in full retreat again before
the King reached Segovia. But misled by its fallacious cheerfulness,
Joseph had made a move which rendered it possible for him to join the
Army of Portugal, if it had really halted. He was soon undeceived, and
after remaining three days at Segovia in some peril, for Wellington had
now turned against him, he evacuated that high-lying city on August
1st, and made his final retreat on Madrid by the Guadarrama pass.
[631] Printed in Joseph’s _Correspondence_, ix. pp. 46-7.
Just after he had left Segovia[632] King Joseph received a dispatch
from Soult, dated July 16. It was a reply to the peremptory orders sent
him on July 6th, which had directed him to evacuate part of Andalusia
and to send a large detachment to Toledo. This was a strange document,
which amounted to an absolute refusal to obey instructions. After
stating (quite falsely) that Hill was advancing with 30,000 men in
Estremadura, and that in consequence he was himself about to repair
thither, he announced that the evacuation of Andalusia would be ruinous
to the French cause in Spain. ‘We could not find means to subsist
either on the Tagus or in Estremadura, and from one position to another
we should retreat as far as the Ebro. There is a way to avoid this;
by taking the initiative we can save 6,000 sick and maimed men whom
I should probably have to abandon, as well as 200,000 Spaniards (who
have declared for your Majesty, and will be lost without hope), also
2,000 guns, and the only artillery arsenal now existing in Spain. A
single order by your Majesty can effect this, and shorten the Spanish
war by six campaigns. Let your Majesty come to Andalusia in person,
with every man that can be collected: if the number is large we can
increase the expeditionary force in Estremadura to 25,000 or 30,000
men, and transfer the seat of war to the left bank of the Tagus. The
Army of Portugal, being relieved of pressure, will be able to come into
line again. Whatever occurs, your Majesty will find yourself at the
head of a splendid army, ready to deliver battle. If the worst came,
and we were unlucky, there is always the resource of retiring on the
Army of Aragon [in Valencia] and so keeping the field.... I have the
honour to repeat to your Majesty that I cannot send any detachments
beyond the Sierra Morena or the Guadiana, save by evacuating all
Andalusia and marching with my whole army. I must have a positive order
from your Majesty to that effect[633].’
[632] On the next day, August 2, the letter came to hand at
Galapagar.
[633] Soult to Joseph, _Correspondance_, ix. pp. 45-7.
This was an astonishing letter for a Commander-in-Chief to receive
from a subordinate. Instead of obeying a very definite order to move
a certain number of troops to a certain point, Soult replies by
sending to the King an alternative plan of campaign. And this plan,
it is not too much to say, was an absolutely perverse and insane one.
It must be remembered that, when Soult was writing, the battle of
Salamanca was still six days in the future, and the Army of Portugal
was known to be at close quarters with Wellington and in urgent need
of reinforcements. Soult urges his master to abandon Marmont to the
enemy, to evacuate Madrid, to give up his communication with France,
and to retire into Andalusia, where he would be cut off from all the
other imperial armies, for it was not possible even to communicate with
Suchet and Valencia, since the Spanish Army of Murcia blocked the way.
The cardinal sin of this project was that if the French were to hold
Spain at all, it was necessary for them to be strong in the North:
Soult proposed to deliver over the North to Wellington, by leaving
Marmont in the lurch. As Napoleon had observed, five months earlier,
‘a check to the Army of Portugal would be a calamity which would make
itself felt all over Spain. A check to the Army of the South might
force it back on Madrid or Valencia, but would be of a very different
degree of importance[634].’ He had said much the same thing four
years before, when first his armies were invading Spain; for he then
expressed the opinion that a disaster to Bessières in Castile would
be the one ruinous possibility: defeats in the South or East mattered
comparatively little. Soult, blinded by his own interest in the
viceroyalty of Andalusia, refused to see this obvious fact. Long after
he had received the news of Salamanca, he persisted in maintaining that
the true policy was to hold on to Seville, even when the British army
was at Madrid, and the wrecks of Marmont’s forces were retiring on
Burgos. Of this we shall hear more presently.
[634] Berthier to Marmont--writing from the Emperor’s personal
direction--of February 18th, 1812, printed in Marmont’s
_Correspondence_, iv. p. 332.
King Joseph on receiving Soult’s letter returned answer: ‘You will see
by my letter of the 29th July the errors that you have been labouring
under as to Lord Wellington’s real designs. Hasten, therefore, to
carry out the orders which I give you--viz. to evacuate Andalusia and
march with your whole army on Toledo[635].’ Even so the King did not
obtain exact obedience to his commands, but received a second series
of counter-projects: and in the end Soult marched not on Toledo but on
Valencia, and only many days after he had been instructed to commence
his movement.
[635] Joseph to Soult of 29 July and August 2, _Correspondence_,
ix. pp. 60-1.
Wellington was, of course, unaware of the exact motives which had
induced King Joseph to make his flank march to Segovia, but he
considered that it might mean that there was some intention on the part
of Clausel to bring the Army of Portugal to join the Army of the Centre
by way of the Upper Douro [i. e. via Aranda]. He therefore resolved
to make such a conjunction impossible, by driving the King over the
mountains and towards Madrid[636].
[636] Wellington to Bathurst, Olmedo, July 28: ‘I think it
probable that they [the Army of Portugal] will endeavour to join
the King on the Upper Douro, if the King should continue on this
side of the mountains, unless I should previously have it in my
power to strike a blow against his corps.’
While Anson’s and Arentschildt’s cavalry continued the pursuit of
Clausel on the 29th-30th, and the 1st and Light Divisions were brought
up to the neighbourhood of Tudela, opposite Valladolid, the rest of
the army was turned against King Joseph. It was necessary to find out,
as a preliminary, whether he was really making a stand at Segovia. To
ascertain this point D’Urban’s Portuguese horse pushed out from Olmedo
on the 29th, and found the King’s cavalry in Santa Maria de Nieva, ten
miles in front of Segovia. Deserters from the Spanish Guards here came
in to D’Urban, and gave him useful information as to the exact strength
of the Army of the Centre. On the 30th Wellington placed at D’Urban’s
disposal the German Heavy Dragoons, a battalion of Halkett’s brigade
of the 7th Division, and a British battery, telling him to drive in
the enemy’s screen. The French gave way reluctantly, and on hearing
of their attitude Wellington ordered the whole 7th Division to follow
D’Urban’s detachment, and other divisions to make ready to move in
succession. But the report that Segovia was being firmly held, as the
_point de rassemblement_[637] for Clausel, turned out to be false, for
when the flying column approached that city it learnt that the main
body of the enemy had left it in the morning for the Guadarrama pass.
A considerable rearguard, under General Espert[638], however, was left
to guard Segovia till the King should have got a fair start; and its
mediaeval walls made it defensible for a short time against a force
without heavy artillery. D’Urban could do nothing with his cavalry,
but sent to Wellington a request that the 7th Division might move
round to intercept Espert’s retreat towards the Guadarrama by a forced
march. His chief replied that he had no great faith in the success of
any of these attempts to ‘cut the French off,’ and that it did not
appear to him more practicable at Segovia than elsewhere. ‘The result
of such attempts would merely be to fatigue the troops in getting into
Segovia, and it might as well be done without fatiguing them.’ And
so it was, for Espert decamped by night on August 3 unmolested, and
D’Urban entered the place next morning, followed some time later by
the infantry. He at once explored the mountain road toward the pass,
and found that the French had completely disappeared: not even at the
‘Puerto’ of the Guadarrama was a vedette to be seen.
[637] This was the term that D’Urban used when describing, on
July 30, the position of the French.
[638] Apparently two battalions of the Baden regiment, some
_Juramentados_, and a regiment of dragoons, about 1,800 men.
Wellington had now to revise his whole plan of campaign, since it
had become clear that the two armies opposed to him had retreated in
different directions, and could not possibly combine. While it was
still conceivable that Clausel might defend the line of the Douro, he
had brought up the main body of his infantry to Olmedo. But after his
entry into Valladolid on the 30th, and the precipitate retreat of the
Army of Portugal toward Burgos, he had been for two days under the
impression that King Joseph might stand at Segovia. Not only had he
sent on the German dragoons and the 7th Division to follow D’Urban,
but on July 31st he moved his own head-quarters and the 3rd Division
to Cuellar, while the 4th, 5th, and 6th Divisions were at El Pino on
the Cega river, a few miles behind. He wrote next morning (August
1st) that he was in such a position that Joseph and Clausel could not
possibly join, and that if the King lingered any longer at Segovia, ‘I
can move upon him, and make him go quicker than he will like[639].’ But
he imagined that the Army of the Centre would fall back instantly on
Madrid--as indeed it was doing at the very moment that he was writing
his dispatch.
[639] All these details are from dispatches of Wellington to
D’Urban in the unpublished D’Urban papers, dated between July 30
and August 2, or from D’Urban’s report to Wellington.
On receiving the information that Joseph had vanished, Wellington
halted for three whole days [August 2nd, 3rd, 4th] with his
head-quarters at Cuellar, and his infantry gathered round him in its
neighbourhood. The 1st and Light Divisions, which had marched as far
as the Douro, came southward to join the rest. But it was only on the
5th that orders were issued for the march of nearly the whole army on
Segovia, by the road to Mozencillo. During these three days of halt
Wellington had made up his mind as to his general policy. Clausel,
whose army was harmless for the present, was to be ignored: only a
small containing force was to be left in front of him, while the main
body of the Anglo-Portuguese host marched on Madrid.
The strategical purpose that determined this decision was never set
forth in full by Wellington. His contemporary dispatches to Lord
Bathurst and to Hill are short, and lack explanatory detail--he states
his decision, but says little of his reasons for making it. Nor did he,
at the end of the campaign, write any long official narrative of his
doings, as he had done in 1810 and 1811. The causes that governed his
action have to be deduced from scattered opinions expressed in many
different documents. We need hardly take seriously the common French
dictum, found in many a book written by his exasperated opponents,
that he ‘wished to parade himself as conqueror and liberator in the
Spanish capital.’ That was not the sort of motive which any serious
student of Wellington’s character would dream of imputing to him. Nor,
if we translate it into less offensive terms, would it be true to say
that it was the political advantage of expelling the King from Madrid,
and so demonstrating to all Europe the weakness of the French hold
on the Peninsula, that was the determining cause of the march into
New Castile and the abandonment of the campaign on the Douro. We must
rather look for definite military reasons. And of these the predominant
one was that he conceived that the most probable result of the battle
of Salamanca would be to force the King to call up Soult and Suchet to
Madrid, in order to check the Anglo-Portuguese army, even at the cost
of abandoning great tracts of conquered land in Andalusia and Valencia.
Such indeed, as we have already seen, was Joseph’s purpose. The order
to Soult to evacuate his viceroyalty and to march on Toledo with his
whole army had been issued a day or two before Wellington had made up
his mind to turn southward. Suchet had been directed at the same time
to send all that he could spare toward Madrid. Though the pursuit of
Clausel to the Ebro offered many advantages, it would be a ruinous move
if the enemy should concentrate 70,000 men at Madrid, and then march
on Valladolid, to take the allied army in the rear and cut it off from
Portugal.
It was quite uncertain whether Soult or Suchet would make this move.
But that it was the correct one is certain. Wellington was aware that
Soult had been summoned to send troops northward. Hitherto he had found
excuses for refusing to obey, as his last intercepted dispatch of July
8th sufficiently showed. But the results of Salamanca might probably
render further disobedience impossible: and the moment that Soult
should hear of that tremendous event, it was reasonable to suppose that
he would abandon his viceroyalty, and march to join the King with every
available man. If he found Joseph and his army still in possession of
Madrid, they would have a central base and magazines from which to
operate, and a very favourable strategic position. It was true that
Wellington could call up Hill’s 18,000 men, but this was the only
succour on which he could count: neither Ballasteros nor the numerous
garrison of Cadiz would ever appear in New Castile, if old experience
was to be trusted. If some Spaniards did arrive, they would be very
uncertain aid. Granted, therefore, that Soult marched on Toledo and
Madrid to join the King, Wellington must take almost every man of the
Salamanca army to face them, even allowing for the certain junction of
Hill. He could only afford to leave a small ‘containing force’ to look
after Clausel.
But there was another possibility which made the situation still more
doubtful. Would Suchet also push up to join King Joseph with the
Army of Valencia, or the greater part of it? If he should do so, the
odds would be too great, and a defensive campaign to cover Portugal,
and so much as was possible of the newly regained Spanish provinces,
would be the only resource. But Suchet’s action depended upon a factor
over which Wellington had some influence, though not a complete and
dominating control. When he had started on the Salamanca campaign he
had been relying on Lord William Bentinck’s Sicilian expedition to
keep the French in Valencia engaged: an attack on Catalonia would draw
Suchet northward with all his reserves, and nothing would be left
which O’Donnell and the Spanish army of Murcia could not ‘contain.’ It
will be remembered that a few days before the battle of Salamanca[640]
Wellington had received the disheartening news that Bentinck had
countermanded his expedition, and was turning himself to some
chimerical scheme for invading Italy. This had left Suchet’s attention
free for the moment, and he might conceivably have sent troops to
join the Army of the Centre. Fortunately he had not done so--only
Palombini’s division and the small garrison of Cuenca had been swept up
by King Joseph, without the Marshal’s consent and much to his disgust.
[640] See above, p. 408.
Now, however, the whole prospect in eastern Spain had been transformed
by the cheering news, received on July 30th near Valladolid[641],
that Bentinck had once more changed his mind, and that a considerable
expeditionary force under General Maitland had been sent to Majorca, to
pick up the Spaniards of Whittingham and Roche, and to execute, after
all, the projected diversion. Maitland’s own dispatch arrived four
days later; it had travelled with extraordinary celerity from Palma to
Cuellar in fifteen days, and announced his arrival on the Spanish coast
and his intention to operate at once. This being so, Suchet would be
‘out of the game’ if all went well, and only the King and Soult need be
taken into consideration for the next month. But it was all-important
that the diversion on the East Coast should be executed with firmness
and decision.
[641] See _Dispatches_, ix. p. 320.
The best summary of Wellington’s views at this moment is to be found in
his letter to Lord William Bentinck[642], explaining the importance of
Maitland’s action in August.
[642] Ibid., p. 321.
‘I have lately, on the 22nd, beaten Marshal Marmont in a general
action near Salamanca, and I have pursued him beyond the Douro and
entered Valladolid. The King is at Segovia with 12,000 or 15,000
men, and, having driven Marmont from the lower Douro, my next object
is to prevent him and Marmont (if possible) from joining: this I am
about to attempt. Either the French [i. e. King Joseph] must lose all
communication with their troops in the north of Spain, or they must
oblige me to withdraw towards the frontiers of Portugal. This they
cannot effect without bringing against me either Suchet’s army, or
Soult’s army, or both. I cannot but think, therefore, that it is very
important that the attention of Suchet should be diverted from his
possible operations against me by the Sicilian army, which will go
to such important objects as Tarragona and Valencia.... If Suchet’s
attention cannot be diverted from me, and (notwithstanding Marmont’s
defeat) the French become too strong for me, I shall at least have
the satisfaction of reflecting, while I am retiring, that General
Maitland’s progress will be unopposed, and we shall take Tarragona and
Valencia.’
A few days later Wellington was pleased to find that Suchet had been
duly scared. An intercepted dispatch from him to King Joseph showed
that he was thinking of nothing but the appearance of an English fleet
off the Valencian coast, and that it was most unlikely that he would
send any serious succours to the King [643]. There remained therefore
only Soult to be considered. The natural thing for him to do would
be to evacuate Andalusia: as Wellington wrote a fortnight later,
‘any other but a modern French army would now leave that province
[644].’ Hill was writing at the same time, ‘Lord Wellington continues
advancing, and if he is able to keep his forward position, Soult will
be ordered to reinforce the King. Indeed I think that he _must_ quit
this part of the country entirely, if matters do not go better with
them’ [the French][645].
[643] Wellington to Maitland, Cuellar, August 3rd, _Dispatches_,
ix. p. 327.
[644] Wellington to Bathurst, _Dispatches_, ix. p. 370.
[645] Letter in Sidney’s _Life of Hill_, p. 211.
What neither Wellington nor Hill could foresee, in early August, was
that the Marshal would still hang on to Andalusia, and renew, in a more
pressing form, his proposal of July 16th that Joseph and the Army of
the Centre should take refuge with him beyond the Sierra Morena. But
whether King Joseph received, or did not receive, succours from the
South or East, it was clearly good military policy to turn him out of
Madrid, while the Army of Portugal was still completely negligible as
a factor in the game. The loss of Madrid would be ruinous to him if
he was left without reinforcements: if he received them, the enemy
would find the problem of subsistence much more difficult if he had
not Madrid to rely upon as his central base and magazine. Toledo would
not serve him half so well. And the political effects of the recovery
of the Spanish capital, even if only for a time, must be well worth
gaining. It would shake the confidence of the _Afrancesado_ party all
over the Peninsula, and it would be noted all round Europe.
Accordingly Wellington resolved to leave only a small containing
detachment on the Douro, to look after Clausel, whose recuperative
power he somewhat underrated, and to march on Madrid with a force that
would enable him, if joined by Hill, to fight Soult and King Joseph in
combination. The containing body was put in charge of Clinton, who was
almost the only divisional general of the old stock who still remained
with the army. Graham and Picton were invalided, Leith and Lowry Cole
had been wounded at Salamanca, along with Beresford and Stapleton
Cotton. Nearly all the divisions were under interim commanders.
Another reason for choosing Clinton for the detached duty was that
his division, the 6th, had suffered more than any other unit at the
recent battle. It was very low in numbers, only 3,700 men, including
its Portuguese brigade, and needed to pick up convalescents and drafts
before it could be considered effective for field service. Along with
the 6th Division there were left the five battalions[646] that had
recently joined the army from England or the Mediterranean stations:
they were all Walcheren regiments, and still riddled with sickness; and
all had suffered from the forced marches which had brought them to the
front just before. Wellington was discontented with their condition.
‘The truth is, neither officers nor soldiers are accustomed to march.
The men are very irregular, and owing to their irregularities not able
to bear the labour of marching in the heat of the sun[647].’ They
were left to strengthen Clinton, and to acclimatize themselves to the
Spanish summer: if taken on to Madrid they would have sown the roadside
with broken-down stragglers.
[646] viz. the 2/4th, 1/5th, 1/38th, 1/42nd, which had arrived in
time for the battle of Salamanca, the 1/38th on the very battle
morning, and the 1/82nd which came up after the battle. They were
all Walcheren regiments: 1/82nd came from Gibraltar, 2/4th from
Ceuta, the other three from England direct. The 1/5th and 2/82nd
went on to Madrid in September.
[647] Wellington to Bathurst, Cuellar, August 4. _Dispatches_,
ix. p. 339.
The five newly-arrived battalions brought Clinton’s strength up to
7,000 infantry. The whole of this force was cantoned in and about
Cuellar, while the cavalry allotted to it, Anson’s brigade, took a
more advanced position, along and beyond the Douro, covering not only
its own infantry but the two Spanish divisions of Santocildes, who
had occupied Valladolid on August 6th. The remainder of the Army
of Galicia was still occupied in the interminable siege of Astorga,
which to Wellington’s disgust still lingered on. The heavy guns had at
last come up from Corunna, but the bombardment seemed to have little
effect. Silveira had resumed the blockade of Zamora, but having no
siege artillery could only wait till starvation should compel its
garrison of 700 men to submit. Toro and Tordesillas were the only other
places where Marmont had left a detachment; the latter surrendered to
Santocildes on his march to Valladolid--about 300 French were taken
there. The former was still holding out, observed by a small Spanish
force. The task of keeping a close look-out upon Clausel was handed
over to the guerrilleros--the Castilian chiefs Saornil, Marquinez, and
Principe. An English officer, who spent some days with the two last at
this juncture, describes them as ‘bandits, but very troublesome ones
for the French.’ Deducting the Spaniards left before Astorga, and the
Portuguese left before Zamora, there were some 18,000 men in all told
off to ‘contain’ Clausel. The orders left behind[648] were that they
should remain in their cantonments unless the enemy should move--which
Wellington did not think a likely contingency, ‘as they have nothing
but their cavalry in a state fit for service.’ But if, rallying sooner
than he expected, the French should march by Palencia to try to rescue
the garrisons of Astorga and Zamora, Santocildes was to retire, and
to endeavour to defend the line of the Esla, while Silveira was to
raise the blockade of Zamora and fall back behind that same river. If,
instead of making a raid westward to save the garrisons, Clausel should
move against Valladolid and the line of the Douro, Anson’s cavalry was
to retire and join Clinton at Cuellar; and if the enemy came on against
them in full force, both were then to fall back on Segovia. Santocildes
was then directed to endeavour to move round Clausel’s rear, and
to cut his communication with Burgos. Contrary to Wellington’s
expectation[649], as we shall presently see, the French general made
both the moves suggested--he sent a column to relieve Astorga and
Zamora, and marched with his main body on Valladolid. The consequences
of his advance will be related in their due place.
[648] Memorandum for General Clinton, to be communicated to
General Santocildes. _Dispatches_, ix. pp. 344-6.
[649] It is curious to find that while in the ‘Memorandum’ of
August 4 Wellington states that it is ‘not very probable’ that
Clausel will move, in a letter to Santocildes sent off the very
next day, he remarks that an advance from Burgos into the kingdom
of Leon, to relieve Astorga, is ‘most likely.’ I fancy that the
former was his real opinion, and that the latter was spoken of
with some stress in the directions to Santocildes, mainly because
Wellington wished to impress on the Spaniard the duty of being
cautious and retiring to the Esla without offering battle.
SECTION XXXIII: CHAPTER IX
THE PURSUIT OF KING JOSEPH. MAJALAHONDA. WELLINGTON AT MADRID
Having thus made all his arrangements for ‘containing’ Clausel, and for
dealing with what he considered the unlikely chance of an offensive
move by the Army of Portugal, Wellington was at liberty to carry out
his new strategical move. The mass of troops collected at Cuellar and
its neighbourhood was at last set in motion, and, after his short
halt and time of doubting, he himself marched against Madrid with the
whole remaining force at his disposal--the 1st, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 7th,
and Light Divisions, Arentschildt’s, Bock’s, and Ponsonby’s [late Le
Marchant’s] cavalry brigades, the Portuguese infantry of Pack and
Bradford, with D’Urban’s horse of that same nation, as also Carlos de
España’s Spanish infantry and Julian Sanchez’s lancers. The whole,
allowing for Salamanca losses and the wear and tear of the high-roads,
amounted to about 36,000 men[650]. It was ample for the hunting of
King Joseph, and sufficient, if Hill were called up, to face the King
and Soult in conjunction, supposing that the latter should at last
evacuate Andalusia and march on Toledo. Santocildes and Clinton were
informed that it was the intention of the Commander-in-Chief to return
to Castile when affairs in the South had been settled in a satisfactory
fashion. No date, of course, could be assigned: all would depend on
Soult’s next move.
[650] The 1st and 7th Divisions alone were up to their usual
strength. The 4th and Light Divisions were still showing very
weak battalions, owing to their dreadful Badajoz losses; and the
former had also suffered very severely (1,000 casualties) at
Salamanca. The 5th and 3rd had comparatively moderate casualties
at each of these fights, but the combination of the two
successive sets of losses had reduced them very considerably.
On August 7th the vanguard, consisting of the force that had occupied
Segovia--D’Urban’s Portuguese squadrons, the heavy German dragoons,
Macdonald’s horse artillery troop, and one light battalion of the
German Legion--marched forward six leagues, ‘five of them against the
collar,’ remarks an artillery officer. The steep route lay past the
royal summer-palace of San Ildefonso, ‘a beautiful place, and most
magnificently fitted up: what is very singular, the French have not
destroyed a single stick of it: the rooms are hung as thick as can be
with paintings _of sorts_[651].’ No hostile vedettes were discovered
on the Guadarrama, and a reconnoitring party pushed as far as the
Escurial, and reported that the enemy’s most outlying picket was at
Galapagar, three or four miles to the south-east of that melancholy
pile. Meanwhile the main body, a march behind the vanguard, started
from Segovia on the 8th, Ponsonby’s dragoons and the 7th Division
leading; then came Alten’s brigade, the 3rd, 4th, and 5th Divisions,
and Pack. The rear was brought up by the 1st and Light Divisions and
Bradford, who only started from the neighbourhood of Segovia on the 9th
[652]. The necessity for moving the whole army by a single mountain
road--though it was a well-engineered one--caused the column to be of
an immoderate length, and progress was slow. Head-quarters were at San
Ildefonso on the 8th and 9th August, at Nava Cerrada (beyond the summit
of the Guadarrama) on the 10th, at Torre Lodones near the Escurial on
the 11th.
[651] Dyneley’s diary in _R. A. Journal_, vol. xxiii. p. 454.
[652] Many of the brigades did not march through Segovia, but by
crossroads around it: steep gradients and fatigue were thereby
avoided. One route was by the deserted palace of Rio Frio, an old
royal hunting-box.
Meanwhile D’Urban, far ahead of the main body, occupied the Escurial
on the 9th, and pushed on cautiously to Galapagar, from whence the
enemy had vanished. His rearguard was discovered at Las Rosas and
Majalahonda, five miles nearer to Madrid. Wellington’s orders were that
his vanguard was to keep well closed up, the Germans close behind the
Portuguese, and that nothing was to be risked till support from the
leading divisions of the army was close at hand. Wherefore on the 10th
D’Urban, finding the French in force at Las Rosas, only advanced a few
miles, and bivouacked on the Guadarrama river at the bridge of Retamar.
He received news from the peasantry that King Joseph was preparing to
evacuate Madrid, that convoys had already started, and that the main
body of the Army of the Centre was to march by the road of Mostoles on
Toledo, where Soult was expected in a few days. The information--true
as regards the evacuation, false as regards the approach of Soult--was
duly sent back to Wellington, who lay that night at Nava Cerrada,
fifteen miles to the rear, with the 7th Division and Ponsonby’s cavalry
[653].
[653] All this from D’Urban’s unpublished diary, as are also most
of the details about the movements of the troops.
Madrid was at this moment a scene of tumult and despair. The King had
retired from Segovia still in a state of uncertainty as to whether
Wellington intended to turn against him, or whether he would pursue
Clausel. He quite recognized the fact that, even if Soult obeyed the
last dispatch sent to him on August 2nd, it would be too late for
him to arrive in time to save Madrid. But there was a pause of some
days, while Wellington was making up his mind at Cuellar, and it was
only on the morning of the 8th that the news arrived that a strong
column (D’Urban and the advanced guard) had started from Segovia on
the preceding day, and that more troops were following. The orders to
make ready for departure were issued at once, and a veritable panic
set in among the French residents and the _Afrancesados_. ‘Every one,’
wrote a keen observer on the 9th August, ‘is packing up his valuables
and making ready for a flitting. Not to speak of the many Spaniards of
birth and fortune who have committed themselves to the King’s cause,
there is an infinite number of minor officials and hangers-on of the
palace, who by preference or by force of habit stuck to their old
places. All these poor wretches dare not stay behind when the King
goes--their lot would be undoubtedly a dreadful one, they would fall
victims to the ferocious patriotism of their fellow-citizens, who have
never forgiven their desertion. Since the word for departure went
round, every one has been hunting for a vehicle or a saddle-beast, to
get off at all costs. Add to this crowd a swarm of valets, servants,
and dependants of all sorts. Most of the merchants and officials are,
as is natural, taking their families with them: the caravan will be
interminable. All night the noise of carriages, carts, and wagons,
rolling by without a moment’s cessation under my windows, kept me from
sleep.’ On the next morning he adds, ‘More than 2,000 vehicles of one
sort and another, loaded with bundles and bales and furniture, with
whole families squatting on top, have quitted Madrid. Adding those who
follow on foot or on horseback, there must be easily 10,000 of them.
They are mostly without arms, there are numbers of women, old people,
and children: it is a lamentable sight: they take the Aranjuez road,
guarded by a considerable escort[654].’
[654] Reiset’s _Souvenirs_, ii. pp. 358-60.
The King, after resigning himself to the retreat, and giving orders for
the departure of the convoy and the greater part of his infantry, had
still one troublesome point to settle. Should he, or should he not,
leave a garrison behind, to defend the great fortified _enceinte_ on
the Retiro heights, outside the eastern gate of the city, which his
brother had constructed, to serve as a citadel to hold down Madrid,
and an arsenal to contain the assortment of stores of all kinds. Heavy
material, especially in the way of artillery--had been accumulating
there since the French occupation began. Here were parked all the guns
captured at Ucles, Almonaçid, and Ocaña, and tens of thousands of
muskets, the spoil of those same fields. There was a whole convoy of
clothing destined for the Army of the South, and much more that Joseph
had caused to be made for his skeleton army of _Juramentados_. There
were 900 barrels of powder and some millions of rounds of infantry
cartridges, not to speak of much arsenal plant of all kinds. All this
would have either to be blown up or to be defended. The fortifications
were good against guerrilleros or insurgents: there was a double
_enceinte_ and a star-fort in the interior. But against siege-guns
the place could obviously hold out for not more than a limited number
of days. After twenty-four hours of wavering, Joseph--contrary to
Jourdan’s advice--resolved to garrison the Retiro, on the chance that
it might defend itself till Soult reached Toledo, and a counter-attack
upon Madrid became possible. If Soult should not appear, the place
was doomed clearly enough: and the previous behaviour of the Duke of
Dalmatia made it by no means likely that he would present himself
in time. However, the King directed Lafon Blaniac, the governor of
the province of La Mancha, to shut himself in the works, with some
2,000 men, consisting mainly of the drafts belonging to the Army
of Andalusia: he would not leave any of the Army of the Centre.
Probably he considered that Soult would feel more interest in the
fate of the Retiro if his own men formed its garrison. They were a
haphazard assembly, belonging to some dozen different regiments[655],
under-officered and mostly conscripts. But they were all French troops
of the line; no _Juramentados_ were among them. To their charge were
handed over some 500 non-transportable sick of the Army of the Centre,
mostly men who had collapsed under the recent forced marches to and
from Blasco Sancho. They were not in the Retiro, but at the military
hospital in the Prado, outside the fortifications.
[655] The surrender-rolls show that there were also some small
leavings of Marmont’s troops in the Retiro, notably from the 50th
Line [of which there were no less than six officers]. Of the Army
of the South the 12th and 27th Léger, and 45th and 51st Line were
strongly represented.
Having sent off towards Aranjuez his convoy and the larger part of
his troops, the King was suddenly seized with a qualm that he might
be flying from an imaginary danger. What if the column that had been
heard of on the Guadarrama was simply a demonstration--perhaps half a
dozen squadrons and a few battalions of infantry? He would be shamed
for ever if he evacuated his capital before a skeleton enemy. Obsessed
by this idea, he ordered General Treillard to take the whole of his
cavalry--over 2,000 sabres--and drive in Wellington’s advanced guard
at all costs: Palombini’s Italian division marched out from Madrid to
support the reconnaissance. Treillard was ordered to use every effort
to take prisoners, from whom information could probably be extracted by
judicious questioning.
On the morning of the 11th the French outpost-line outside of Madrid
had been held only by Reiset’s brigade of dragoons (13th and 18th
regiments), about 700 sabres. It was these troops that D’Urban had
discovered on the previous night at Las Rosas: at dawn he proceeded
to drive them in, making sure that they would retire, as they had
regularly done hitherto. His own force was much the same as that of
the enemy, his three weak regiments (seven squadrons) amounting to a
little over 700 men. But he had with him Macdonald’s horse artillery,
and the French were gunless. Demonstrating against Reiset’s front with
two regiments, D’Urban turned him with the third and two guns. The
flank movement had its due effect, and the dragoons gave back, when
shelled diagonally from a convenient slope. They retired as far as
the village of Las Rosas, and made a stand there: but on the flanking
movement being repeated, they again drew back, and passing a second
village--Majalahonda--went out of sight, taking cover in woods in the
direction of Mostoles and Boadilla. D’Urban was now within seven miles
of Madrid, and thought it well to write to Wellington to ask whether
he should endeavour to enter the city or not. The reply sent to him
was that he was to go no farther than Aravaca--three miles outside the
walls--till he should be supported; the head of the main column, headed
by Ponsonby’s heavy dragoons, would be up by the evening.
Long before this answer reached him D’Urban was in terrible trouble.
The manœuvring of the morning had taken up some four hours; it was
about 10 when the French disappeared. While waiting for orders, the
brigadier directed his regiments to quarter themselves in Majalahonda,
water their horses, and cook their midday meal. After the pickets had
been thrown out, all went quietly for five hours, and most of the men
were enjoying a siesta at 3.30. They had now support close behind them,
as the heavy German brigade, and the 1st Light Battalion of the K.G.L.
had come up as far as Las Rosas, only three-quarters of a mile to their
rear. The advance was to be resumed when the worst heat of the day
should be over.
But a little before four o’clock masses of French cavalry were seen
debouching from the woods in front of Boadilla. This was Treillard,
who had come up from the rear with four fresh regiments (19th and
22nd Dragoons, Palombini’s Italian _Dragons de Napoléon_, and the 1st
Westphalian Lancers[656]), and had picked up Reiset’s brigade on the
way. The whole force was over 2,000 strong, and was advancing in three
lines at a great pace, evidently prepared to attack without hesitation.
D’Urban had barely time to form a line in front of Majalahonda, when
the enemy were upon him.
[656] Treillard calls them only _les lanciers_ in his report.
Dyneley in his narrative calls them Polish lancers, but they were
really the Westphalian _Chevaux-légers-lanciers_ of the Army of
the Centre.
It is certain that the wise policy would have been to make a running
fight of it, and to fall back at once on the Germans at Las Rosas,
for the Portuguese were outnumbered three to one. But D’Urban was a
daring leader, honourably ambitious of distinction, and the excellent
behaviour of his brigade at Salamanca had inspired him with an
exaggerated confidence in their steadiness. He sent back messengers
to hurry up the German dragoons, and took position in front of
Majalahonda, throwing out one squadron in skirmishing line[657],
deploying five more in line of battle (1st and 12th regiments), and
keeping one in reserve on his left flank to cover four horse artillery
guns there placed. Here also were placed a party of forty of the German
Dragoons, who had been sent out on exploring duty, and joined the
Portuguese in time for the fight.
[657] This was a squadron of the 11th, whose other squadron
formed the reserve.
Treillard came on in three successive lines of brigades, each composed
of six squadrons, Reiset’s dragoons (13th and 18th) forming the front
line, the other dragoon brigade (19th and 22nd) the second, and the
two foreign regiments the reserve. The clash came very quickly, before
the British guns had time to fire more than three or four rounds. The
Portuguese rode forward briskly enough till they were within a few
yards of the enemy, when they checked, wavered, and went about, leaving
their brigadier and their colonels, who were riding well in front,
actually in the French ranks. D’Urban cut his way out--the Visconde
de Barbaçena and Colonel Lobo were both severely wounded and taken
prisoners. The broken line shivered in all directions, and went to the
rear pursued by the French: some of the fugitives rode into and carried
away the reserve squadron, which abandoned the guns on the left as they
were limbering up. There was a wild chase for the mile that intervened
between the battle spot in front of Majalahonda and the village of Las
Rosas. In it three of the four horse artillery guns were captured--one
by a wheel breaking, the other two by their drivers being cut down by
the pursuing dragoons. Captain Dyneley, commanding the left section
of the battery, and fourteen of his men were taken prisoners--mostly
wounded. The small party of German dragoons, under an officer named
Kuhls, who chanced to be present, made a desperate attempt to save the
guns. ‘Oh, how those poor fellows behaved!’ wrote Dyneley, ‘they were
not much more than twenty in number, but when they saw the scrape our
guns were in, they formed up to support us, which they had no sooner
done than down came at least 150 dragoons and lancers: the poor fellows
fought like men, but of course they were soon overpowered, and every
soul of them cut to pieces.’
The main body of the leading French brigade rode, without a check,
up to the first houses of Las Rosas, where they found the German
heavy brigade only just getting into order, so swift had the rout
been. When D’Urban’s first alarm came to hand, the horses were all
unsaddled, the men, some asleep, some occupied in grooming their
mounts or leading them to water. The trumpets blew, but the squadrons
were only just assembling, when in a confused mass and a cloud of
dust flying Portuguese and pursuing French hurtled in among them.
That no irreparable disaster took place was due to two causes--two
captains[658], who had got a few of these men already together,
gallantly charged the head of the French to gain time, and some of the
light infantry opened a spattering fire upon them from the houses.
Reiset called back his regiments to re-form them, and meanwhile the
Germans came pouring out of the village and got into line anyhow, ‘some
on barebacked horses, some with bare heads, others in forage-caps, many
in their shirt-sleeves.’ By the time that the French were advancing
again, all the four squadrons of the heavies were more or less in
line, and D’Urban had rallied the greater part of his Portuguese on
their left. The fight in front of Las Rosas was very fierce, though
the Portuguese soon had enough of it and retired. But the Germans
made a splendid resistance, and ended by beating back the front line
of the enemy. Treillard then put in his second line, and under the
charge of these fresh squadrons the dragoons of the Legion, still
fighting obstinately, were pressed back to the entrance of the village:
Colonel Jonquières, commanding the brigade in Bock’s absence, was
taken prisoner with a few of his men. The salvation of the overmatched
cavalry was that the light infantry battalion of the Legion had now
lined the outskirts of the village, and opened such a hot fire that the
enemy had to draw back.
[658] Reizenstein and Marshalk.
What Treillard would have done had he been left undisturbed it is
impossible to say, but just at this moment Ponsonby’s cavalry brigade
and the head of the infantry column of the 7th Division came in sight
from the rear, hurrying up to support the vanguard. The French drew
off, and retired in mass, with such haste that they did not even bring
off the captured guns, which were found by the roadside not much
damaged, though an attempt had been made to destroy their carriages.
In this fierce fight, which was so honourable to the Germans and so
much the reverse to the Portuguese, the vanguard lost nearly 200 men.
The heavy brigade had 1 officer and 13 men killed, 5 officers and 35
men wounded, 1 officer (Colonel Jonquières) and 6 men prisoners. The
Portuguese naturally suffered much more--by their own fault, for it
was in the rout that they were cut up. They had 3 officers and 30 men
killed, 3 officers and 49 men wounded, and 1 officer[659] and 22 men
missing. Macdonald’s unfortunate battery lost 6 killed, 6 wounded, and
its second captain (Dyneley) and 14 men missing: most of the latter
were more or less hurt. The K.G.L. light battalion had 7 wounded. The
total casualty list, therefore, was 15 officers and 182 men. It is
probable that the French did not suffer much less, for they had as
many as 17 officers disabled, including Reiset, the brigadier who led
the first line, and 11 more of the officers of his two regiments: the
supporting corps lost only 5 officers wounded among the four of them
[660]. But a loss of 17 officers must certainly imply that of at least
150 men: the Germans had used their broadswords most effectively.
Treillard sought to diminish the effect of his loss by making the
preposterous statement that he had killed 150 of the allies, wounded
500, and carried off 60 prisoners; he forgot also to mention that he
left the three captured guns behind him.
[659] Colonel Lobo: the other colonel (the Visconde de Barbaçena)
who was taken, had been so severely wounded that the French left
him behind.
[660] Three in the 19th Dragoons, one in the 22nd, one in the
Italian regiment. Oddly enough, of seventeen officers in the
casualty list, only one (a _chef d’escadron_ of the 13th) was
killed. The sabre disables, but does not usually slay outright.
After this affair Wellington made the memorandum: ‘the occurrences of
the 22nd of July [Salamanca] had induced me to hope that the Portuguese
dragoons would have conducted themselves better, or I should not have
placed them at the outposts of the army. I shall not place them again
in situations in which, by their misconduct, they can influence the
safety of other troops[661].’ It is fair to D’Urban’s men, however,
to remember that they were put into action against superior numbers,
and with a knowledge that they themselves were unsupported, while the
enemy had two lines of reserve behind him. To be broken under such
circumstances was perhaps inevitable. But the second rout, in the
vicinity of Las Rosas, was much more discreditable. Their brigadier,
very reticent in his dispatch to Wellington, wrote in a private letter:
‘The same men who at Salamanca followed me into the French ranks like
British dragoons, on this 11th of August at the first charge went
just far enough to leave me in the midst of the enemy’s ranks. In the
second, which, having got them rallied, I attempted, I could not get
them within ten yards of the enemy-they left me alone, and vanished
from before the helmets like leaves before the autumn wind[662].’
[661] _Dispatches_, ix. p. 354.
[662] There are very full narratives of Majalahonda to be
got from D’Urban’s correspondence, Reiset’s memoirs, and the
letters of Dyneley, who was lucky enough to escape a few days
later and rejoin his troop. Schwertfeger’s _History of the
German Legion_ gives the facts about the part taken by the
K.G.L. Light Battalion, whose service Wellington ignored in his
dispatch--wrongly stating that it was not engaged. Treillard’s
dispatch is a fine piece of exaggeration, but useful as giving
the official French view of the affair.
Treillard brought back to King Joseph the news that Wellington in
person was certainly marching on Madrid with the greater part of his
army. Indeed his prisoners had tried to scare him by saying that 8,000
horse were coming down on him, and otherwise exaggerating the numbers
of the allies. The cavalry brigades fell back to form the rearguard
of the King’s army, which moved on Valdemoro and Aranjuez, not toward
Toledo, for certain information had come that none of Soult’s troops
were anywhere near that ancient city. The convoy had been turned
towards Ocaña, and the road to Valencia.
Wellington entered Madrid unopposed next day--vexed that his arrival
should have been marred by the untoward business at Majalahonda, ‘a
devil of an affair,’ as he called it in a private letter to Stapleton
Cotton[663]. But the inhabitants of the Spanish capital took little
heed of the mishap--the departure of the French was the only thing that
mattered. Their enthusiasm was unbounded.
[663] _Dispatches_, ix. p. 351.
‘I never witnessed,’ wrote an intelligent observer in the ranks[664],
‘such a scene before. For a distance of five miles from the gates
the road was crowded with the people who had come out to meet us,
each bringing something--laurel boughs, flowers, bread, wine, grapes,
lemonade, sweetmeats, &c. The road was like a moving forest from the
multitude who carried palms, which they strewed in the way for us to
march over. Young ladies presented us with laurel, and even fixed it in
our caps: others handed us sweetmeats and fruit. Gentlemen had hired
porters to bring out wine, which they handed to us as we passed by:
every individual strove to outvie each other in good nature. On the
other hand the feelings of each British soldier were wound up to the
highest pitch--Wellington himself rode at the head of our regiment,
we were flushed with victory, and a defeated enemy was flying in
our front: proud of the honour paid us by the people, we entered
Madrid, the air rent with cries of “Long live Wellington, Long live
the English.” The crowd and shouts and ringing of bells was beyond
description. The men on the flanks were involuntarily dragged out of
their subdivisions into houses, and treated with the best that could be
found for them. It was with difficulty that Lord Wellington could keep
his seat on horseback-every one was pressing round him.’ They kissed
his hands, his sword, even his horse and the ground he had passed
over. It would have been a moment of intoxicating exultation to most
men: but Wellington looked beyond the laurels and the shouting. ‘It
is impossible to describe the joy of the inhabitants on our arrival:’
he wrote, in his rather ponderous style, ‘I hope that the prevalence
of the same sentiment of detestation of the French yoke which first
induced them to set the example of resistance to the usurper, will
again induce them to make exertions in the cause of their country,
which, being more wisely directed, will be more efficacious than those
they formerly made[665].’ But hope is not the same as expectation.
[664] Journal of Wheeler of the 51st, p. 27.
[665] To Lord Bathurst, August 13. _Dispatches_, ix. 355.
That evening the whole city was illuminated, and the streets were so
full, till long after midnight, of crowds tumultuously joyful, that
some cautious officers feared that the French garrison of the Retiro
might sally out to make mischief in the confusion. Lafon-Blaniac,
however, kept quiet--he was already quailing over two discoveries--the
one that his water supply was very short, the other that the inner
_enceinte_ of the works was so full of miscellaneous combustible stuff,
shot in at the last moment, that nothing was more probable than a
general conflagration if he were to be bombarded. It had also begun
to strike him that his outer line of defences was very weak, and his
second one very constricted for the amount of men and material that
he had in charge. The larger _enceinte_, indeed, only consisted, for
the greater part of its extent, of the loopholed wall of the Retiro
Park, with some _flèches_ placed in good flanking positions. On the
side facing the Prado were buildings--the Retiro Palace and the
Museum, which had been barricaded and made tenable: they formed the
strongest section of the exterior line. The inner _enceinte_ was a more
formidable affair--with ten bastioned fronts on the scale of a powerful
field-work. The star-fort, which constituted the final refuge for the
garrison, was built around the solid building that had once been the
royal porcelain manufactory (where the celebrated Buen Retiro china was
made): it had a ditch twelve feet deep and twenty-four wide, and was
formidably palisaded.
Wellington reconnoitred the works on the 13th, and directed that the
outer line should be stormed that night. Three hundred men of the
3rd Division were told off to break into the Park wall on the north,
near the Bull-Ring: 300 more from the 51st and 68th regiments of the
7th Division were to attack the south-west angle of the _enceinte_,
which was formed by the wall of the Botanical Garden. Both assaults
were completely successful--the walls were so flimsy that they
were easily hewn through with picks, or beaten in with beams used
as battering-rams, and the 68th found and broke open a postern. The
resistance was very weak--only ten of the storming-parties were killed
or wounded, and the enemy retired almost at once into his second line,
abandoning the Palace and other fortified buildings.
Lafon-Blaniac was now in a deplorable position, for there was only one
well of moderate capacity within the second _enceinte_ to serve the
whole garrison. He had lost those in the Palace at the foot of the
hill: and the old porcelain manufactory, within the star-fort, had been
wont to be supplied by a little aqueduct, which had of course been
cut by the British. It was clear that a lack of water would soon be a
serious problem: but a superfluity of fire was a still more probable
one--the garrison was crowded up among buildings and stores, and the
large factory inside the star-fort was specially dangerous--a very
few shells would suffice to kindle it and to smoke out or smother its
defenders.
On the morning of the 14th Lafon-Blaniac sent out a flag of truce,
ostensibly to deliver a threat to fire upon the town if he were
pressed, really to see if he could get tolerable terms, before the
British had begun to batter him, for he could note preparations to
bring up heavy guns being made. Wellington saw the _parlementaire_
in person, and a conclusion was arrived at in a very few minutes.
Tolerable conditions of surrender were granted--the garrison to march
out with honours of war, the officers to keep their swords, horses,
and baggage, the men their knapsacks unsearched. All arms and stores
were to be handed over intact. At four o’clock the French marched out,
‘most of them drunk, and affecting a great rage against the governor
for surrendering so tamely.’ Yet it is clear that he could not have
held out for more than a day or two, with great loss of life and no
strategical profit, since there was absolutely no chance of the place
being relieved. The prisoners were sent off under escort to Lisbon.
On the way they were joined by the garrison of Guadalajara, which
had surrendered with equal facility to the Empecinado--this was a
force of _Juramentados_ and foreigners--regiments Royal-Étranger and
Royal-Irlandais, about 900 strong, under a General de Prieux, of the
Spanish not the French service. They feared for their necks if they
resisted the guerrilleros, and made practically no resistance.
The stores in the Retiro proved most useful--nearly every regiment at
Madrid was supplied with new shoes from them: the stock of blue French
regimental coats was issued to the artillery and light dragoons, to be
cut up into jackets; Joseph’s _Juramentado_ uniforms served to reclothe
Carlos de España’s and Julian Sanchez’s men. The most unexpected find
in the fort was the eagles of the 51st Line and 12th Léger, which
had somehow got into the Retiro, though the bulk of those corps were
with Soult’s army, and only detachments of them were at Madrid. They
were sent to the Prince Regent, and now hang in the chapel of Chelsea
Hospital[666]. The garrison was found to consist of 4 _chefs de
bataillon_, 22 captains, 42 other officers, and 1,982 men--the latter
including some 200 non-military employés. In addition, 6 officers and
429 rank and file had been surrendered in the hospital, which was
outside the Retiro, before the attack on the place began[667].
[666] The second eagle is in error described in Wellington’s
dispatch as that of the 13th--which was in Russia at the time.
[667] For the ‘siege’ of the Retiro see (besides the official
sources) Burgoyne’s _Diary_, i. pp. 208-9, and the narratives of
Green of the 68th and Wheeler of the 51st. For the use of the
French uniforms see the _Dickson Papers_, ed. Major Leslie, ii.
pp. 738-9.
Here we must leave Wellington for a space, triumphant in the Spanish
capital, and much worried by the polite and effusive attentions of
the authorities and inhabitants, who lavished on him and his officers
banquets, balls, and bull-fights for many days, in spite of the penury
which had been prevailing for years in the half-ruined city. Never was
an army better treated--wine could be had for the asking, and at last
the men had to be confined to their quarters for many hours a day, lest
they should be killed by kindness. The Constitution was proclaimed
in state, a patriotic municipality elected, and Carlos de España was
made governor. He signalized his appointment by arresting a good many
_Afrancesados_ and garotting with much ceremonial the priest Diego
Lopez, who had been one of King Joseph’s most noted spies.[668]
[668] Grattan’s _With the Connaught Rangers_, p. 275.
NOTE.--For the garrison of the Retiro I can find no regular
details; Wellington gives only totals of the surrendered force.
But a paper of Jourdan’s (at Paris), though dated so far back as
July 17th, speaks of the Madrid garrison as containing 230 men
of the 3/12th Léger, 250 of the 3/45th, and a whole _bataillon
de marche_ more of Soult’s army, 750 strong, together with 200
_hommes isolés_, and a considerable number of dismounted cavalry.
I suspect that these formed the Retiro garrison in August as well
as in July. The other troops noted as left at Madrid on July
18th--a battalion of Nassau, the dépôts of the Royal Guard, 28th
and 75th, and three Spanish battalions, were certainly _not_ in
the surrender, and had marched off on August 10th with the King.
But a good many scores of the 50th, belonging to Marmont’s army,
were among the prisoners. I suspect that these were the garrison
of Avila, which retired on Madrid on getting the news of the
battle of Salamanca.
SECTION XXXIII: CHAPTER X
AFFAIRS IN THE SOUTH. JUNE-AUGUST 1812. SOULT, HILL, AND BALLASTEROS
Two months elapsed between Wellington’s passage of the Agueda on his
offensive march into the kingdom of Leon, and his triumphal entry
into Madrid. During this critical time there had been constant alarms
and excursions in Andalusia and Estremadura, but nothing decisive had
occurred. This was all that Wellington wanted: if employment were
found for the French Army of the South, so that it got no chance of
interfering with the campaign on the Douro, he was perfectly satisfied,
and asked for nothing more.
It will be remembered that his instructions to Hill, before he started
on the march to Salamanca, were that Soult must be diverted as far
as possible from sending troops northward. The main scheme was that
Ballasteros and Hill should, if possible, combine their operations so
as to bring pressure upon the enemy alternately[669]. The Cadiz Regency
had readily agreed to stir up the Spanish general to activity: if he
would demonstrate once more (as in April) against Seville, so as to
attract Soult’s attention, and cause him to concentrate, Hill should
press in upon Drouet and the French troops in Estremadura, so as to
force the Marshal to draw off from the Spaniard. Similarly, if Soult
should concentrate against Hill, Ballasteros was to strike again at
Seville, or the rear of the Cadiz Lines, which would infallibly bring
the Marshal southward again in haste[670].
[669] Wellington to Henry Wellesley at Cadiz, _Dispatches_,
ix. p. 169, same to same of June 1, _Dispatches_, ix. p. 197,
Wellington to Hill (June 6th), _Dispatches_, ix. p. 215, and more
especially the last paragraph of Wellington to Henry Wellesley
of June 7th, _Dispatches_, ix. p. 219, and same to same of June
10th, _Dispatches_, ix. p. 224.
[670] To quote Wellington’s own rather heavy but quite explicit
phrases: ‘I am certain that the enemy will move into Estremadura
upon Hill, as soon as it is known that _I_ have moved: and I
hope everything will then be done by Ballasteros, and the Army
of Murcia, and the troops in Cadiz, to divert the enemy from
their intentions upon Hill.’ And, on the other hand, in a letter
differing in date from that first cited by three days, ‘The
Spanish government have desired that in case of a movement by
Marshal Soult on General Ballasteros, General Hill should make
a movement to divert his attention from Ballasteros. I have
directed this movement, in the notion that the Conde de Villemur
[the Spanish commander in Estremadura] will also co-operate
in it.’ The see-saw of alternate distractions is clearly laid
down--but Ballasteros (as usual) proved a difficult factor to
manage.