Movements of the enemy after the fall of Badajoz—March
of the British light and third divisions towards Ciudad
Rodrigo—Dispositions for a fresh campaign—Excellent marching
arrangement of the light division—Occupation of Salamanca by
the British, and investment of the forts—Advance of the French
army—Skirmishing and cannonading—Surrender of the forts by the
French—English quarters at Rueda, and amusements there—Movements
of the author's division—A breakfast party broken up—Personal
escape of the commander-in-chief—Active manœuvres of the
contending forces—Retrograde movement of the British towards
Salamanca—Relative position of the two armies—Battle of
Salamanca.
The Duke of Dalmatia, on hearing of the fall of Badajoz, retraced his
steps towards Seville, followed by the British cavalry, under General
Sir S. Cotton[33].
On the 11th of April, the light and third divisions crossed the
fine stone bridge to the right bank of the Guadiana, and entered
Campo-Mayor. The march of the troops presented the most warlike
appearance. Many of the soldiers' blood-stained and torn uniforms
were discoloured from explosions; numbers of the soldiers held their
arms in slings, and carried their firelocks and caps slung on their
knapsacks; whilst others were seen with bandaged heads, or lame from
contusions through wounds inflicted by the iron-crows' feet with which
the enemy had strewed the ditch of Badajoz. In this manner did all
those gallant soldiers, who were able to join their ranks, trudge along
for ten days, for the purpose of chasing out of the province of Beira
the Duke of Ragusa, who now blockaded and threatened the fortresses
of Almeida and Ciudad Rodrigo. Every morning before day light we were
creeping over the rough, flinty, and winding roads along the _Cordon_
of Portugal, until we reached the neighbourhood of Ciudad Rodrigo, from
which place the enemy had retired on our approach.
On the 19th of May, General Sir R. Hill, with the second division,
attacked, and carried by escalade, and destroyed the forts Napoleon,
Ragusa, and the _Tête de Pont_, which guarded the bridge of boats
thrown across the Tagus near Almaraz in Spanish Estremadura. As the
summer came on, officers and soldiers rejoined us with wounds scarcely
healed; others arrived from England to fill up the vacant ranks. A
fresh campaign was in contemplation, and the officers from various
divisions of the army flocked merrily into Ciudad Rodrigo.
On the 12th of June, the army crossed the river Agueda, the light
division leading the centre column. The march of the light division
was worthy of notice. The men were not tormented by unnecessary
parades—the march was their parade; that over, the soldiers (except
those on duty) made themselves happy, while those with sore feet, by
such a system, had rest, which enabled them to be with their comrades,
when, by a mistaken notion of discipline, it would have been otherwise:
their equipment was regularly examined, nor were the men on any
pretence permitted to overload themselves—one of the most serious
afflictions to an army. A general may be endowed with transcendant
abilities, and by a forced march place himself in a situation to
overthrow his enemies; he may possess the number of divisions, and the
number of regiments, but through internal bad management, half his
army may be straggling in the rear. Again, nothing is so pernicious as
keeping the soldiers under arms, while the officers are rambling about:
it destroys all _esprit_, causing the officers to forget the sufferings
of the men after a weary march, and creating feelings of dislike
towards them in the breasts of the soldiers. Such a system did not
exist in the light division; and when a young officer fell in action,
the old soldiers proffered their services with parental care.
The baggage followed the line of march in succession. The mules of each
company were tied together, and conducted by two batmen in rotation,
right or left in front, according to the order of march. Each regiment
found an officer, and each brigade a captain to superintend. The
alarm-post for them in camp was on the reverse flank of respective
regiments. When the enemy were at hand, the baggage was ordered to the
rear,—the distance according to circumstances.
The army was four days clearing the forest, which was clothed with
verdure, and supplied the most delightful bivouacks. The Sierra de Gata
lay on the right hand, covered with snow, while a cloudless sky formed
our canopy, and the sunshine of hope and happiness was beaming on every
countenance, not excepting those of the growling surly batmen, who were
seen to smile at finding forage at hand for their animals.
On the fourth day the division encamped within two leagues of
Salamanca, and quite clear of the wood. The German hussars had an
affair on that day with the enemy's cavalry. The officers of hussars
described it to us, and related the conversation that took place
between them and the French dragoons stationed on picquet in front of
Salamanca. The enemy requested the Germans not to charge; the hussars
replied, while advancing, that if the French fired, they would. The
enemy then fired their carbines to stop their progress. The hussars
charged, and cut most of them down.
The next morning we advanced, and pushed a body of the rifle corps to
feel their way through a village, near Salamanca, which they found to
be unoccupied by the enemy. The division then brought up their left
shoulders, and passed in open column of companies within cannon range
of the forts, situated on the right bank of the Tormes, and within a
short distance of the north side of the town. The enemy stood on the
ramparts to see us pass; the whole plain was covered by our cavalry
and infantry, crowding towards the ford of Santa Martha, where we
all forded the river, and bivouacked a short distance from the town.
The French army had retired, leaving eight hundred men to garrison
the three forts of St. Vincente, Gayetano, and Merced, that were
constructed with the masonry extracted from the different handsome
convents, monasteries, and colleges, which had been pulled down to be
converted into bastions.
The sixth division took possession of Salamanca, and invested the
forts. Soon after we had taken up our ground, most of the officers
hurried into the town; the inhabitants appeared much rejoiced to see
us, and, as I entered, two ladies ran towards me, each seizing a hand.
My Rozinante dropped her head in search of food, as I believe she had
not enjoyed a feed that day, while I looked right and left, and thought
such congratulations very romantic. The _Señoras_, in black silk, put
numerous questions, few of which I could understand, nor am I confident
whether they were civil or military, although, from the expression of
their eyes, I concluded that they were on a _civil_ subject. I much
admired the female peasantry; they were healthy, well-made, with black
eyes, red lips, little feet, and wore red, yellow, and blue petticoats.
Soon after, I ascended to the top of the cathedral, to reconnoitre the
forts, when I had a full view into the interior of them, and saw that
musketry might have been applied with effect from this point. I then
descended, and entered into the festivities and pleasures of the place.
In the evening the town was illuminated, and resounded with music,
while the merry Spanish _muchachas_ were dancing boleros, and striking
their castanets in the streets. The glare of light was reflected from
the bright arms piled in the great square, surrounded by soldiers of
the sixth division, many of whom were destined soon to fall within a
few hundred yards of the fascinating scene.
Our division advanced the next day, and took up its ground a league and
a half in front of Salamanca. On the 20th a staff officer rode up to a
group of us, and said, "The enemy are advancing." I rode up the side
of the position of St. Christoval, and descried them afar off in the
vast plain. The division then fell in, and were ordered to crown the
heights, which they did; and at the same time some Spanish regiments
came in our rear, with two pieces of cannon: the mules became restive;
some went one way, and some another—every way but the right: they
became entangled in their harness; some kicking, and others feeding on
the uncut corn, and, finally, during this mutiny of the mules a gun was
upset, and, rolling over the bank into the road, quite deranged the
dignity of the Spanish march.
The different divisions of the army were now ascending the heights of
St. Christoval at many points. The French army continued to advance,
and soon after began to debouche from the different roads in order of
battle. The view was not obstructed; the country was level, covered
with a sheet of corn, as far as the eye could reach. To those fond of
military evolutions, the scene was bold; to those of more tranquil
habits, time was given to pray for the good of their own souls, and,
if charitably inclined, for the rest of the army.
At first our division deployed on the left of the front line; then
again moved, and took post in the centre of the second line; the whole
army were deployed in two lines, to oppose the enemy, the cavalry to
the right, and also some detached on the left, to scour the plain
between us and Salamanca, where part of the sixth division remained
to cover the forts of that place. The whole army present consisted
of seven divisions, besides cavalry, artillery, the before-mentioned
Spaniards, and some Portuguese infantry.
At five o'clock in the afternoon the French cavalry approached by the
valley to the left of our position, where our light dragoons began to
skirmish with them, and showed some disinclination to give ground; the
enemy brought up six guns, and opened on our squadrons in reserve, when
the dispute ended.
Towards evening the French made an attack on part of the seventh
division, occupying a village at the base, and on the right of our
position; after some sharp work, it was carried by the enemy. A brisk
cannonade then took place to our right between the two armies. Night
put an end to the firing. The whole army slept on their arms in order
of battle, and after dark the picquets were placed at the foot of our
position.
An hour before daybreak, the troops stood to their arms, fully
expecting to be attacked. The dark shades dispersed; the sun rose; both
armies tranquil, notwithstanding their proximity; the enemy were full
in view, without a bush, or any obstacle to prevent close quarters.
Their right was thrown back in _échelon_ of divisions. I suppose our
General-in-chief wished them to come a little nearer, but the Duke of
Ragusa was now cautious, for his army was inferior in numbers.
Our position was covered with uncut corn, which served the cavalry
for forage, and the infantry for beds. The contending armies caused
great devastation, and trampled down the ripe wheat for miles around.
The river Tormes ran about two miles in our rear, with two fords. Our
division was now withdrawn from the line, and placed as a column of
reserve in rear and centre of the army: it protected the fords in our
rear, and might be used as a moveable mass either to resist cavalry, or
assist where required.
The Earl of Wellington was stationary from morning till night, watching
the enemy, generally alone and on foot, at the crest of the hill, and
in the centre of the position. His staff approached him one at a time
to receive orders. At night the Earl slept on the ground, wrapped in
his cloak.
The troops were much inconvenienced for want of water, as the river
was at some distance, and only a few men could be spared, since it was
impossible to know at what moment the enemy might not attack. Some
Spanish ladies came from Salamanca, and walked through our lines. On
the third night the French retired; our division took ground to the
right, and were posted on the bare and conical hill of Cabrerizos. It
appeared necessary that the forts and the command of the bridge at
Salamanca should be secured before we made any forward movement. The
Duke of Ragusa evidently wished to gain time, and to continue in the
vicinity to succour the forts, also to infuse courage into the little
garrisons, until his reinforcements should arrive.
The Earl of Wellington remained on the hill of Cabrerizos the whole
day. The sun shone with great brilliancy, and it was burning hot.
One of the soldiers of the 43d put up a blanket to keep the rays of
the sun from his lordship. Our bivouac presented a droll appearance,
as the whole division had hoisted blankets in a similar manner. A
Spanish _muchacha_, with sandy hair, named Agueda, from the _pueblo_
of Fuente de Guinaldo, who preferred the sound of the bugle-horn to
her domestic occupations, was the sole female to be seen amid the
sun-burnt soldiers, and the brilliant masses, that now covered hill and
dale, ready at a moment to deploy in battle array. The breaches at the
forts were now considered practicable. At about nine o'clock at night
the attack commenced; but after some time the firing became slack, and
I saw three rockets thrown up from the forts; they were immediately
answered by several rounds of artillery from the French army, on a
rising ground two leagues to our right, which instantly satisfied me
that the assault had not succeeded, and that it was done as a signal
that they were still at hand.
On the morning of the 25th, at daylight, we heard some firing on
the other side of the Tormes during a dense fog, which at first
prevented the force of the enemy from being ascertained. The Earl of
Wellington would not move. The soldiers laughed, and said, "Oh, they
are only shaking their blankets on the other side of the water;" for
in heavy weather musketry produced sounds such as I have described. As
the fog cleared away, a few rounds of artillery took place; and the
General-in-Chief sent a sufficient body of troops by the ford in rear
of St. Christoval to meet the enemy. When the atmosphere cleared, we
saw about a division of the French moving towards Salamanca. They were
opposed by our heavy cavalry, which had been placed there to secure the
flank and rear of our army.
At seven that evening, the French re-crossed, unmolested, to the right
bank of the Tormes, by a ford a league to our right. I did not consider
the movement a serious one, but merely as intended to encourage the
soldiers in the forts to hold out.
On the 27th, St. Vincente being in flames, the enemy permitted our
troops to ascend the breaches without opposition. It was a sort of half
assault and half surrender. The troops in the other forts also laid
down their arms, having suffered severely; and only marched out three
hundred out of eight, their original force, and many of those scorched
by the flames, or otherwise hurt.
The army now moved forward. Our division supported the cavalry, and
advanced towards Ruêda. On the 2d of July, Captain Bull's horse
artillery and the cavalry overtook the enemy's rear guard near that
place. Although the country appeared open, it was unfit for cavalry, as
it was intersected with small vines, the size of gooseberry-bushes. On
entering the town, I observed five of the French killed from the fire
of the six-pounders.
The division bivouacked round the town; and the next morning we
moved about two leagues in advance, and rather to the left, where an
interchange of shots took place between the left of our army and the
enemy, near Pollos, who had no idea of permitting us to cross the Douro
at that time, as the French Marshal wished to maintain his line on that
river for the base of his future operations. We then returned, and took
up our quarters in Ruêda. Pay was issued, all of which we spent in
gaieties and _iced wines_. The inhabitants had all returned to their
dwellings. The mayor was informed that the officers would give a ball;
when he procured _Señoritas_, according to custom. It was extremely
pleasant, with waltzing, and all the fascinating mazes of the Spanish
country-dance in perfection. The Marquis of Worcester, and others of
the Earl of Wellington's staff attended.
On the evening of the 16th July our division was ordered to quit Ruêda,
and marched the whole night over a dusty and arid country; and towards
morning we took up our ground near Castréjon. During this day the
Valencians (commonly called the lemonade-men) came into our bivouac,
the sure harbingers of the approach of the enemy. These men wear a
spiral cap, of felt or leather, and have jet black ringlets hanging
down each side of their dark olive faces; and their fierce black eyes
give them a noble expression of countenance. A white linen jacket is
thrown over the shoulder, and a red sash encircles their loins; they
also wear a white linen kilt, like our Highland soldiers, reaching to
the cap of the knee; the white half stockings are gartered under the
knee, which is bare; and hempen sandals are tied round the feet. They
carry a long tin can, strapped on their backs, cased in the bark of the
cork-tree, which keeps cool the lemonade with which they are filled.
These men generally marched with the French columns, and acted as spies
to both parties. Just before nightfall, the company was ordered a
quarter of a league to the front on picquet; the country was open, and,
as the cavalry passed, I heard a staff-officer giving orders, which led
me to suspect that the enemy were at hand.
At break of day on the 18th, a few shots were exchanged to our right;
the firing increased, and the cheering might be distinctly heard at
intervals, as the sun rose above the horizon.
Our dragoons became visible while retiring before the enemy's horse and
light artillery, which at intervals were blazing away. The scene was
sublime and beautiful. An officer said to me, "There will be a row this
day; however, we had better get our breakfast, as God knows _when_ we
shall have any thing to eat, unless we take advantage of the present
moment." The tea service being laid out, and a stubble fire kindled,
to warm the bottom of the kettle, we suddenly espied some squadrons of
French heavy dragoons in a valley to our right, pushing for the main
road at full trot. An absurd and ludicrous scene now took place. The
crockery was thrown into the hampers; also the kettle, half filled with
hot water; another officer, who had come to _déjeûne_ with us, from the
rear, all the while vociferating, "God bless me! you will not desert my
mule and hampers; they are worth four hundred dollars." In fact, to get
off seemed impossible; the company, however, formed column of sections,
and fixed bayonets, fully determined to cover the old mule, who went
off with a rare clatter, and we after him, in double-quick time. The
enemy were now within two hundred yards of us, brandishing their
swords, and calling out, when they suddenly drew up on seeing some of
our cavalry hovering on their right flank. A rivulet, with steep banks,
ran parallel with the road; but we soon found a ford, where we drew up,
intending to dispute the passage. The right brigade of our division
had moved forward, and had deployed to the succour of our dragoons
first engaged, about half a mile to our right. Soon after this, two
squadrons of our light dragoons formed on a rising ground, two hundred
yards from us, with two pieces of horse artillery on their right, when
about an equal number of French heavy cavalry, handsomely dressed, with
large fur caps, made rapidly towards them, our guns throwing round
shot at them during their advance. When they had arrived within one
hundred yards of our squadrons, they drew up to get wind, our dragoons
remaining stationary[34].
A French officer, the chef d'escadron, advanced and invited our people
to charge, to beguile a few moments, while his squadrons obtained a
little breathing time. He then held his sword on high, crying aloud,
"_Vive l'Empereur! en avant, Français!_" and rushed on single-handed,
followed by his men, and overthrowing our light dragoons. The guns had
fortunately limbered up, and the horse-artillery fought round them
with great spirit, the enemy trying to cut the traces, while the poor
drivers held down their heads, sticking their spurs into the horses'
sides with all their might, and passed the ford under cover of our
picquet. The Earl of Wellington was in the thick of it, and only
escaped with difficulty. He also crossed the ford, with his straight
sword drawn, at full speed, and smiling. I did not see his lordship
when the charge first took place, but he had a most narrow escape; and,
when he passed us, he had not any of his staff near him, and was quite
alone, with a ravine in his rear.
A few stragglers of each party still continued engaged, and this
part of the affray took place within twenty yards of us. One of our
dragoons came to the water with a frightful wound; his jaw was entirely
separated from the upper part of his face, and hung on his breast; the
poor fellow made an effort to drink in that wretched condition.
The round shot now flew in various directions; one spun through a
cottage behind us, and the shepherd ran out in great terror. The light
division now commenced its retreat from the vicinity of Castréjon. The
French had crossed the river Douro with reinforcements, and had made an
amazing march to take us in flank. We had only retrograded a short way,
when we obtained a view of the bulk of the French army, pushing forward
on a ridge of hills to our left. The first false attack had been made
at daylight on our right and in front, merely to draw all our force
to that point, while the Duke of Ragusa executed this movement. The
fourth division were retiring in mass, within range of the enemy's
fire, being critically situated in the valley, while the French cannon
rolled on the crest of the hills above, and poured in their shot with
effect on their right flank.
Our division was obliquely to the rear, in column of quarter distance,
with fixed bayonets, ready to form square,[35] surrounded by large
bodies of our cavalry. To avoid an action seemed impossible. The
enemy's infantry were almost on the run, and we were marching away from
them as hard as we could. While the round shot from a flank fire flew
over us, a French division came running to engage and detain us until
others came up, and obliged us to abandon the road, and trample down
a tract of wheat. The heavy German cavalry drew close round us. The
country was open, and a vast sheet of corn enveloped us for many miles.
The men became much distressed, owing to the rapidity of the movements
and heat of the day. We were again enabled to regain the road (owing to
our numerical superiority of cavalry), which made a curve down a gentle
descent; and the men descried, at a short distance, a dirty meandering
stream, called the Guarena, near Castrillo. A buzz ran through the
ranks that water was at hand, and the soldiers were impelled forward,
with their eyes staring and mouths open; and when within fifty yards
of the stream, a general rush was made. I never saw the troops during
my service so thirsty. The discipline of the division was such, that
I have seen them pass clear water, unbroken, in the hottest weather,
suffering under fatigue known only to those under the weight of a
knapsack and accoutrements.
All this took place under a cannonade, which had continued, at
intervals, for more than ten miles. This was following up with a
vengeance. We had no sooner crossed the river than some squadrons of
the enemy's cavalry galloped up a hill immediately overlooking us. The
division now moved more leisurely; and every one was aware that had our
cavalry given way, the division must have halted to repulse charges,
which would have given time for the French infantry to come up; and had
that been the case, the struggle must have been very sanguinary. Our
reserves now being at hand, we soon halted on a round hill, and showed
front. The fourth division did the same; when a brigade of the enemy,
covered with dust, came in contact with an equal number of the fourth
division; who, firing a volley, charged with the bayonet, and overthrew
the French in good style, taking many prisoners.
The French army had done their best to overtake us, but became glad
of a halt as well as ourselves, and the firing ceased. We remained
stationary during the day, when I fell asleep; and after some time,
I suddenly awoke, with my lips glued together, and my person almost
roasted by the scorching rays of the sun; and actually crawled some
distance before I knew where I was. Dry biscuit was served out; but
we could not get any water until eleven at night, when I obtained a
draught of dirty water out of my batman's canteen; however, it cooled
my inside; and I believe that many hundreds dreamed that night of
limpid streams.
On the 19th the troops stood to their arms an hour before daybreak;
but the enemy continued stationary, and well they might, as they
had made the previous night and day an enormous march to cut us off
in detail, according to the Duke of Ragusa's favourite expression;
however, at four o'clock in the afternoon the Earl of Wellington rode
up to Lieutenant Wilkinson of the 43d, who was on picquet, and said,
"What are the enemy doing?" Wilkinson replied, "The French are in
motion." The dust was flying upwards from behind the ridge of hills
in our front. The General-in-chief said, "Yes—to the right now;" and
ordered the first brigade of our division to make a corresponding
movement, by crossing a valley, to prolong our right. We ascended a
high hill, and formed on our original front, when the French army
issued from behind the hills, presenting a martial appearance, and a
grand display of moving squadrons, with brazen helmets, and a great
body of infantry flanked by their cannon.
The river Guarena was nearly dried up, and was the only obstacle
between the contending armies, as the face of the country still
continued bare and hilly, without even a tree to be seen. The Duke of
Ragusa entered the valley to reconnoitre, surrounded by a numerous
staff, when two guns of our horse-artillery opened, and a ball struck
on the ground, and knocked up the dust in the very centre of the group,
without killing any one: they took the hint, and shifted their ground.
Eight of the enemy's guns instantly began a heavy firing on our
brigade: the first shot struck an officer of the horse-artillery on
the side of his helmet, and displaced him from his horse; after a
short time the brigade went to the right about, to get out of range.
At that moment the Spaniards[36] attached to us simultaneously started
from the left of each regiment, and I do not recollect ever seeing
them afterwards: it was most ludicrous to witness the flight of these
patriots, in disorder, while our troops retired sloping their arms with
the utmost _sang-froid_. We soon halted, and faced about; the enemy's
guns ceased to play, and a large force of our light dragoons mounted
the hill in our rear, with sloped swords. Night coming on, we formed
columns in case of accidents. An officer and myself then stole down
the hill on horseback, in search of water for ourselves and animals:
having passed our advanced posts some distance, and hearing strange
voices, we looked at each other, and whispered that to go further would
be indiscreet, wherefore, rejoining the column, we wrapped ourselves
in our cloaks, and fell into a profound slumber, out of which we were
awakened by a great bustle and the trampling of horses. Word passed
to stand to our arms, and the Portuguese Caçadores fired some shots,
but I was so overcome by drowsiness, that I continued in a squatting
position, rubbing my eyes, too lazy to move. The confusion was caused
by two or three mules breaking their ropes, and becoming lively; not
unusual amongst such animals.
On the 20th our division concentrated soon after daylight, and
descended into the plain of Velesa, where we observed our whole army
formed in a dense phalanx, ready to deploy in order of battle. The
French army were not in sight; however, it was evident they intended
to avail themselves of the high ground; a brigade of our cavalry had
pushed half way up the ridge, to entice them to show front, and to
develope their movements, as it appeared during the night they had
moved on a quarter circle, round our extreme right flank, and were
now pushing on, and trying to cut off our communications. The Duke of
Ragusa would not accept battle as long as he could gain ground without
it, unless we attacked at a disadvantage, as he seemed to be a perfect
master of the localities of the country.
Our army, under all these circumstances, broke up, and began to
retreat, the different divisions arranged in such a manner, that,
should it become necessary, by wheeling to the left, they could show
front, and be ready to engage, the more particularly as both armies
were again moving parallel to each other; and in this order they
continued some leagues, and bivouacked. It became necessary for the
troops to cook with fires of stubble, as there was not any wood in the
neighbourhood. A brigade of Portuguese cavalry happened to be left at
some distance in the rear, and, as it slowly retired in line, presented
such an imposing _front to their own rear_, that, by mistake, an
artillery officer ordered them to be saluted by a couple of shot, which
unfortunately did some execution.
On the 21st, two hours before daylight, we began our march, branching
off towards Salamanca, and took up our ground in the valley, below St.
Christoval, the enemy having moved on Alba de Tormes and its vicinity.
Toward evening, we fell in, and crossed the Tormes by a ford, under
the hill of Cabrerizos, and marched in the direction of Salamanca, the
river being on our right hand. Night approached, and a German hussar
passed us at full speed, and said, "_She's co-ming_," meaning the
French dragoons, who had pushed forward to the village of Calbarasa de
Abaxo.
The atmosphere became now overspread with an unusual darkness; the
thunder began to roll, the lightning was vivid, and the rain fell in
torrents. During the storm a whole troop of horses galloped past at
full speed, without their riders, having broke loose from fright,
caused by the loud claps of thunder. Continuing our march, we soon
bivouacked about two miles from Salamanca, our left wing resting on the
Tormes, and in vain attempted to screen ourselves from the pelting of
the storm. However, the morning of the 22d broke beautiful and serene;
and at six o'clock we heard to our right, and about two miles to the
front, a brisk fire of small arms, which continued for an hour, and
then died away. The enemy had attacked the seventh division, in a wood
near the heights of Nuestra Señora de la Pena, to ascertain whether
the Earl of Wellington intended to give up Salamanca. A young officer
was washing his shirt in the Tormes when the order came to fall in at
eleven o'clock, and was under the necessity of putting it on wringing
wet.
The light division advanced, and took up the ground which the seventh
division had occupied in the morning; the wood extended a short way to
our front. The division was formed in open column, concealed from a
small body of the enemy, who were stationed in small force half a mile
to our front, with two pieces of cannon, on some rocks, round the old
_quinta_ of Nuestra Señora de la Pena. From our situation we formed a
corps of reserve, communicating with the third division placed on the
top of the conical hill of Cabrerizos, on our extreme left, and rather
in advance of us, on the right bank of the Tormes.
We had no sooner piled arms, than I began to look about me. A _Table
Mountain_, or rather one of _Los dos Arapiles_, was a short way to the
right, and a mile to the front, with a very large mass of troops formed
behind it, in contiguous columns, with one red regiment presenting
their front towards the enemy in _line_ at the top of it. Large bodies
of cavalry, the first, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh divisions
of infantry, with a proportion of artillery, composed the right and
centre of the army in the plain, towards Las Torres; also a corps
of _Spanish Patriots_. Placed thus, who could have thought that the
General-in-Chief intended that day to retreat? I _never did_. Nor could
I see the reason for it: it seemed advisable to beat the French before
_El Rey_ Joseph coming from Madrid, and General Chauvel, who, with a
reinforcement of cavalry and horse-artillery, had crossed the Duoro,
near Pollos, should make their appearance with additional forces.
The arrangement of our troops was inimitable; _years_ could not have
improved it. Our right had been fairly turned since the 20th; the army
were presenting a new front, so that the _first_ or _last_, whichever
it may be termed, of military movements was to be effected, that is for
the contending armies to _change places_. The French could not attack
our left that day; if they had, the right of their army must have been
either surrounded or cut to pieces. The third division would have hung
on their flank, the light division would have engaged them in front,
the masses behind the Table Mountain could have debouched on either
side, while our cavalry, artillery, and the rest of the army, could
have moved forward, and attacked the left of the French in the plain,
which must have advanced to support such a movement. The Table Mountain
is the mark of the French marshal's discomfiture. Military men say the
French ought to have taken possession of it: but was their army up and
strong enough to maintain it? The advance of the enemy at six o'clock
in the morning was not that of their whole force: I should say, that
it was merely a _reconnaissance_; half a dozen squadrons of cavalry
and a division of infantry must not be taken for a whole army. Nor had
the French soldiers wings; for in justice to them, more could not have
been done by legs. The Duke of Ragusa might have had his army in hand,
and could have placed a corps of observation where his centre stood;
then towards evening manœuvred with his main body at a greater distance
from our right flank, and threatened to cut us off from Rodrigo, (and
thereby change positions with us) until nightfall; at the same time
keeping his communications open with Alba de Tormes, in the event of
his not deeming it advisable to follow up such a movement the next day.
At all events, the French general would have gained time, which was
precious to him, as reinforcements were on the road to join him. The
fact was, the French marshal was completely out-generalled: the Table
Mountain puzzled him; and the third division descending from Cabrerizos
at twelve o'clock, and raising clouds of dust as they passed along the
rear of our army[37], caused the Duke of Ragusa to imagine that we
were drawing off, which I am confident led him to take hasty measures,
forgetting that he had been manœuvring only on _blank_ ground the four
previous days. The Earl of Wellington saw his over haste and his error;
knowing that to support such an extension of the left, the enemy ought
to have advanced in force on the village of the Arapiles, or that they
must expose their left to a flank attack, which they did. On the other
hand, had they advanced towards the Arapiles in the plain in force, our
right and centre would have become engaged, and the troops concealed
behind the Table Mountain could have debouched, and hovered on their
right flank.
This was the first _general action_ fought on the Peninsula, where
the Earl of Wellington _attacked_; which led the French marshal still
farther from his reckoning. The General-in-Chief, of course, did not
wish to fritter away his army in useless skirmishes, and therefore only
waited for a _fit moment_ to bring it fairly in contact with the enemy,
to _finish_ well when once commenced; and as the Duke of Ragusa brought
himself to action within the precincts of Salamanca, the advantage was
ours, the wounded soldiers having speedy assistance, while those of
the enemy who managed to drag themselves far from the field, endured
the most distressing privations. The French were formed on the heights
behind the village of the Arapiles, with an extensive forest in their
rear.
The field of battle generally was composed of light sand, with a few
straggling blades of parched grass. A very light breeze blew towards
the French, which gave them the benefit of the clouds of dust and
the volumes of smoke arising from the immense masses in motion,
notwithstanding the heavy rain on the preceding night. Near one P. M.
the third division were passing in rear of ours. I was strolling about,
here and there coming across a dead or wounded soldier of those who had
fallen in the morning, when a Portuguese caught my attention. He was
resting on his elbows with his legs extended, suffering indescribable
pain from a wound in his stomach; his face pale, his lips discoloured,
and stifled groans issuing from his nearly lifeless body, while an
almost tropical sun was shining on his uncovered head.
Soon after the third division had reached its destination, a column
of French descended a hill _en masse_ on our extreme right, towards
the village of Miranda. Three eighteen-pounders opened on them, which
took full effect, and spoiled their regularity. The enemy hesitated,
while the discharges of our heavy ordnance were overthrowing all
opposition. They went to the right-about to get out of range. Our
columns, formed behind the Table Mountain, now debouched in double
time, showing the French Marshal that the long-expected crisis was at
hand. A sharp fire of musketry opened on some companies of the seventh
fusileers, supported by the light companies of the foot guards, as
they broke through the village of the Arapiles at half-past two. The
third division had already brought up their right shoulders, and were
pushing on very successfully, when the enemy's horse furiously charged
the grenadiers and right of the 5th regiment, while advancing in line,
which they repulsed and continued their movement. The fire gradually
increasing, at half-past four the armies were well in contact. The
musketry rolled without intermission, only interrupted by the still
louder artillery. The fourth division, breathless, amidst showers
of grape, musketry, and round-shot, had succeeded in planting their
standards on the crest of the enemy's position; but at that moment a
French division, in close column, and at a run, with fixed bayonets,
forced them down the hill, whilst others advanced on their left flank,
which was exposed, and carried the centre of the battle again into the
valley; but our heavy cavalry, in the right centre, were bearing down
all opposition, driving the left of the enemy before them, and putting
them into the greatest confusion. Major-General Le Marchant was killed
heading this charge. Marshal Beresford[38], Generals Leith, Cole,
and Alten, were wounded. On the part of the French that fell, were
the Duke of Ragusa, Generals Fercy, Thomieres, Desgraviers, Bonnet,
Clausel, and Menne, besides their losing numerous prisoners, standards,
and cannon. At six the battle was at the height—no cessation of
musketry, and the cannon of both armies thundering away as if there
were to be no end of it. The columns of smoke and dust were rolling up
in dense volumes, so that the atmosphere became dark above the bloody
scene; yet there was not a cloud to be descried, except those which
arose from the battle. A Spanish peasant was looking on with his arms
folded; I heard him exclaim, "_Que grandisimo mundo!_[39]"
The inhabitants of Salamanca were crowding the places of public
worship, to offer up prayers for the success of our arms. _Apropos_, it
was Sunday.
At half-past six, a brigade of Portuguese guns opened on the enemy,
in front of our division. At seven, the Prince of Orange, one of the
General-in-Chief's aides-de-camp rode up, and ordered our division to
move on the left to attack. We moved towards the Table Mountain, right
brigade in front, in open column; having passed it, we then closed
to column of quarter distance. The enemy's skirmishers soon advanced,
and opened a brisk fire. The shades of evening now approached, and
the flashes of cannon and small arms in the centre and on the heights
were still vivid, while the enemy were making their last struggle
for victory. An English officer of General Pack's brigade passed us,
covered with dust and perspiration; he complained of the rough usage
of the French. They allowed the Portuguese to approach nearly to the
summit of the point of attack, then charged them, and used the bayonet
without remorse, taking that part of the field under their especial
protection.
The enemy's light infantry increased, and retired very deliberately;
the ascent was gentle. The first brigade deployed, supported by the
second; the first division was marching in reserve.
Our skirmishers were obliged to give ground to the obstinacy of the
enemy; and nearly ceased firing. The line marched over them, dead and
alive.
Appearances indicated a severe fight, for we were near the enemy's
reserves. The Earl of Wellington was within fifty yards of the front,
when the adverse lines commenced firing. The General-in-Chief ordered
us to halt within two hundred yards of the enemy. They gave us two
volleys with cheers, while our cavalry galloped forward to threaten
their right flank. At this time I heard that a musket-ball had
perforated the Earl's cloak, folded in front of his saddle. As we were
about to charge, the enemy disappeared, not being in sufficient force
to withstand the attack. This advance was beautifully executed.
Night coming on, the firing died away. Thus ended a battle which bore
on the destinies of Europe, by showing the decline of French power in
Spain, and leaving the British army for the first time free to pursue
their enemy at pleasure. It lasted six hours.—Our line continued its
movement. A French cavalry picquet fired on us at ten; the _ruse de
guerre_ would not do[40]. We continued to advance until midnight; and
bivouacked round a village.
The Duke of Ragusa was carried off the field by a company of French
grenadiers. He had manœuvred well, from the 19th till the battle, and
had moved round our flank on a half circle.
As morning dawned on the 23rd, the light division advanced, supported
by the first division, and crossing the ford, near Huerta, formed
_en masse_ in a valley, while the heavy German dragoons ascended the
hill, moving on the left of the enemy. After some time we debouched.
The Germans made a brilliant charge, and broke the French rear guard,
formed on the side of a hill near La Serna. They suffered much. The
whole of the enemy had not formed square. I observed five hundred stand
of muskets on their left, lying on the ground in line, as if they had
been piled and knocked down, and the owners had shifted as well as they
could; the muskets were not grounded to the front, but lying sideways.
The enemy only formed two squares. I saw a man and horse dead, the
rider still in his saddle. They must have received their mortal wounds
at the same instant.
On mounting the hill, the enemy's army were in full view, in one great
mass. Our horse artillery threw some shot into them. The troops soon
halted, and the enemy were seen no more.
[Footnote 33: Now Lord Combermere.]
[Footnote 34: The company was formed up, and fronting the right flank
of our dragoons. We, therefore, had an admirable view of the space
between the combatants. The soldiers of the company had made ready,
holding their firelocks horizontally, or rather at the charging
position, but to have fired would have been rather unchivalric, and
would probably have destroyed the valiant French officer, who, though
our enemy, was an honour to his country.]
[Footnote 35: Six companies of the second battalion of rifles joined us
on the retreat, just arrived from England.]
[Footnote 36: During this campaign only a few Spaniards were attached
to each British regiment in our division.]
[Footnote 37: The third division did not pass through Salamanca, when
they descended from the hill of Cabrerizos. They forded the Tormes, and
passed within a mile in rear of us.]
[Footnote 38: Now Lord Beresford.]
[Footnote 39: He was the only peasant I ever saw in battle, except one
who offered his services at Vittoria, to conduct our division over
an unprotected bridge, when the second shot fired took off the poor
fellow's head.]
[Footnote 40: It has been affirmed, that the firing of the French
picquet of dragoons in the forest caused us to go too much to the left.
On the contrary, we were moving directly towards the ford of Huerta,
on the Tormes, as it was supposed that the Spaniards left in the old
castle of Alba de Tormes would prevent the enemy crossing the bridge at
that place. These Spaniards, however, unknown to the General-in-Chief,
had surrendered the day before.]