rivers had fallen, and that the Gebora had again become fordable.
He made no delay, and at dusk his striking-force began to cross the
Guadiana--the operation was slow, since only two flying-bridges and
a few river-boats were available. But at dawn nine battalions[72],
three squadrons, and two batteries were on the north bank, while
Latour-Maubourg had come up from his usual post at Montijo with six
cavalry regiments more. The whole force assembled in the angle between
the Guadiana and the Gebora amounted to no more than 4,500 infantry[73]
and 2,500 horse, with twelve guns, a total so much below Mendizabal’s
9,000 infantry and 3,000 cavalry that the adventure seemed most
hazardous. But fortune often favours the audacious, and on this day
Soult chanced on the unexpected luck of a very foggy morning. He was
practically able to surprise the enemy, for the first warning that a
battle was at hand only came to Mendizabal when, shortly after dawn,
his picket at the broken bridge of the Gebora--a short mile or so in
front of the heights--was driven in by masses of French infantry. At
the same moment a tumult broke out on his left rear: the 2nd Hussars,
sent on by Latour-Maubourg to discover and turn the Spanish northern
flank, had been able to mount the heights unseen and unopposed, by
making a long détour, and rode unexpectedly into the camp of one of
Carlos de España’s regiments. Mendizabal’s troops flew to arms, and
began hastily to form their line upon the heights, but they had no
time to get into good order, for the enemy was upon them within a few
minutes.
[72] Three battalions each of the 34th, 88th, and 100th Line.
[73] Thirteen squadrons of the 4th, 14th, and 26th Dragoons,
the 2nd and 10th Hussars, the 21st and 27th Chasseurs, and the
Spanish light cavalry regiment of Juramentados.
Mortier, to whom Soult had committed the conduct of the battle, showed
great tactical skill. On reaching the line of the Gebora, infantry
and cavalry poured across it without a moment’s delay; all the three
fords of which the French knew proved to be practicable, though on the
southernmost one, near the bridge, the infantry had to cross with the
chilly water up to their waists. The order of battle was very simple:
the right wing, composed of the whole of the cavalry, was to pass by
the most northern ford and ascend the heights beyond the Spanish left.
Arrived at the crest, one brigade was to push along it, and fall on the
flank of the hostile line, while the other descended into the valley
of the Caya, and charged into the Spanish camps, so placing itself
directly in Mendizabal’s rear. Of the infantry three battalions (the
100th regiment) were to ascend the hillside in the gap between the fort
of San Cristobal and the nearest Spanish camp, a gap which had been
caused (as it will be remembered) by the withdrawal of the Spaniards
from the southernmost heights under the stress of bombardment six days
before. This column was to risk the fire of the fort, which it had to
disregard, and fall on the hostile flank. Meanwhile the centre--very
weak and composed only of six battalions of infantry (34th and 88th
regiments)--was to attack the Spanish front, when the two turning
movements were well developed.
The San Cristobal heights are a most formidable position, two miles of
smooth steep slopes with an altitude of 250-300 feet, overlooking the
whole plain of the Gebora and with hardly any ‘dead ground’ in their
sides. They form an excellent _glacis_ for an army in position ready to
defend itself by its fire, for the assailant must come up the hill at a
slow pace and utterly exposed. Cavalry could only climb at a walk, and
with difficulty; but Mortier had sent all his horse far to the north,
where they ascended, and partly crossed, the range at its lowest point,
beyond the extreme flank of the enemy. Just at this moment the fog
rose, and everything became visible. On gaining the heights unopposed,
Briche’s light cavalry formed up across them, and commenced to move
along the summit towards the Spanish left wing, while Latour-Maubourg,
with three dragoon regiments, descended the reverse slope and moved
towards the hostile camp, in front of which Butron’s Spanish horse and
Madden’s Portuguese could be seen hastily arraying their squadrons.
It may be said that the battle of the Gebora was lost almost before a
shot had been fired, for on seeing themselves threatened in flank and
about to be charged by Latour-Maubourg, the Spanish and Portuguese
horse broke in the most disgraceful style, disregarding the orders
of their commanders, and went off in a disorderly mass across the
plain of the Caya, towards Elvas and Campo Mayor. They outnumbered
the enemy, and could have saved the day if they had fought even a
bad and unsuccessful action, so as to detain the French dragoons for
a single hour. But the cavalry of the Army of Estremadura had a bad
reputation--they were the old squadrons of Medellin and Arzobispo, of
which Wellington preserved such an evil memory, and Madden’s Portuguese
this day behaved no better[74]. They escaped almost without loss, for
Latour-Maubourg let them fly, and turned at once against the flank and
rear of Mendizabal’s infantry.
[74] See his pathetic letter in Wellington, _Supplementary
Disp._, vii. p. 67.
The combat on the southern part of the heights had not yet assumed
a desperate aspect. Though the column which was formed by the 100th
regiment had got up the hillside under the fort of San Cristobal, and
had penetrated into the gap between that work and its extreme left, the
Spanish infantry was still holding its own. The fog having cleared,
they were able to estimate the smallness of the number of the hostile
infantry, and stood to fight without showing any signs of failing.
But the fusilade was only just beginning all along the hillside when
the victorious French cavalry came into action. Briche’s light horse
came galloping along the crest of the heights, while Latour-Maubourg’s
dragoons were visible in the plain behind, well to the rear of the
Spanish line. Mendizabal, horrified at the sight, ordered his men to
form squares, not as usual by battalions, but vast divisional squares,
each formed of many regiments, and with artillery in their angles. If
the French cavalry alone had been present, it is possible that in this
formation the Spaniards might have saved themselves. But Mortier’s
infantry was also up, and well engaged in bickering with Mendizabal’s
men. The squares, when formed with some difficulty, found themselves
exposed to a heavy fire of musketry from the front at the same moment
that the cavalry blow was delivered on their flank. Briche’s hussars
penetrated without much difficulty through battalions already shaken
by the volleys of the French infantry. First the northern and soon
afterwards the southern square was ridden through from the flank and
broken. The disaster that followed was complete: some of the Spanish
regiments dispersed, many laid down their arms in despair, a limited
number clubbed together in heavy masses and fought their way out of
the press towards the plain of the Caya and the frontier of Portugal.
General Virues and three brigadiers were taken prisoners, with at least
half of the army. Mendizabal and two other generals, La Carrera and
Carlos de España, got away, under cover of the battalions which forced
their passage through toward the west. In all about 2,500 infantry
escaped into Badajoz[75], and a somewhat smaller number towards
Portugal[76]. The rest were destroyed--only 800 or 900 had been killed
or wounded, but full 4,000 were taken prisoners, along with seventeen
guns--the entire artillery of the army--and six standards. The French
loss, though under-estimated by Soult in his dispatch at the ridiculous
figure of 30 killed and 140 wounded, was in truth very small--not
exceeding 403 in all. It fell almost entirely on the cavalry--who
had done practically the whole of the work. The regimental returns
show that only four officers in the infantry were killed or wounded,
to thirteen in the mounted arm. In proportion this battle was more
disastrous to the vanquished and less costly to the victors than even
Medellin or Ocaña. It is difficult to write with patience of the
culpable negligence of Mendizabal, in allowing himself to be surprised
in such a position, when he was amply provided with cavalry, or of
the conduct of the Spanish and Portuguese horse in abandoning their
infantry without striking a single blow, when even a show of resistance
might at least have given their comrades time to save themselves. For
the battalions on the heights could have escaped into Badajoz, or even
have retreated along the Guadiana without desperate loss, if they had
been granted an hour’s respite: while if the French cavalry could have
been detained till the infantry battle on the heights was decided, it
is quite clear that Mendizabal in his splendid fighting position, and
with double numbers, could have held his own and driven off the attack
of the nine battalions of Mortier.
[75] The statement that only a few men escaped into Badajoz is
disproved by the figures of the surrender-rolls of March 11th,
which show 1,108 men of La Carrera’s division, 554 of Virues’s
division, and 995 of battalions of Garcia’s division which had
not been told off to the regular garrison, as laying down their
arms.
[76] There escaped into Portugal, beside the cavalry, the greater
part of the regiments La Union from Garcia’s division, Rey and
Princesa from that of Virues, Vittoria from that of La Carrera,
and fragments of Zamora, and 1st of Barcelona. The whole,
reorganized into new battalions, made a weak brigade of 1,800 men
under Carlos de España in April.
[Illustration: BADAJOZ. The French Siege (Jan.-March 1811), & the
Battle of the Gebora (Feb. 19th 1811).]
The Army of Estremadura having been practically destroyed,--the
demoralized remnant of 4,000 horse and foot which escaped into Portugal
counted for nothing,--Soult could at last besiege Badajoz from both
sides of the river, and reckon on being undisturbed in his operations.
He left three battalions, a battery, and five regiments of Montbrun’s
cavalry on the north bank, to invest the fort of San Cristobal, and
returned, with the rest of the force that had won the battle, to his
lines. There was still much to be done, for the governor Menacho was
resolute, and the garrison had been raised to over 8,000 men by the
influx of Mendizabal’s fugitives. The siege was destined to last three
weeks longer, and might have been prolonged to a far greater duration
if Menacho had not been killed on March 4; as long as he lived the
defence was vigorous and honourable.
Though Soult could concentrate all his attention on the approaches
towards the curtain between the bastions of Santiago and San Juan, they
did not progress very rapidly. Menacho brought up all the artillery
that could be readily moved on the threatened front, and continued to
pound the ruins of the Pardaleras and the trenches leading up to it.
It was only on the night of the 24th February that a battery was at
last completed under the right flank of the fort, and another under
its left, to keep down the fire of the defenders. Nor was it till the
28th of the same month and the 1st of March that the zigzags began to
creep forward from the second parallel towards the body of the place.
On the 2nd of March the approaches reached the demi-lune outside the
bastion of San Juan, and the French could look down into the ditch, but
they found the counterscarp in good order, and the palisades intact.
On the 3rd they commenced mining, with the object of blowing in the
counterscarp and filling the ditch. But their work was stopped by a
vigorous sortie, the last which Menacho sent out. A small column of
Spaniards passed out of the left bastion, seized and demolished the
advanced trenches, and spiked the twelve guns which armed the two
nearest batteries. The progress of the besiegers was checked for a
day--but at a disastrous cost, for the governor himself, while watching
the effect of the sortie from the ramparts, was killed by a chance
shot. His place was taken by the senior brigadier in the place, José
Imaz, a man of desponding heart and utterly lacking in energy. It was a
thousand pities that, when the rout of the Gebora took place, neither
La Carrera nor Carlos de España had been driven back into Badajoz, for
both these officers were men of desperate resolution, who would have
played out a losing game to the last moment with stubborn courage.
The French narratives note that from the moment of Menacho’s death
the defence slackened; it became partly passive, and was no longer
conducted with common skill. No more sorties were made, and there
seemed to be a lack of ingenuity in the measures taken to resist the
completion of the approaches[77]. All that was done was to keep up a
hot fire on the head of the French sap, and to replace one disabled gun
by another upon the walls.
[77] ‘Depuis la mort du Général Menacho l’ennemi avait éprouvé
un certain découragement, dont l’effet se faisait connaître par
l’absence de cette force morale qui fait agir les hommes et qui
donne le mouvement et la vigueur. Il n’osa plus nous attaquer
dans nos batteries, dans nos tranchées, afin de détruire en
quelques moments l’œuvre d’un jour. Il ne profita pas des moyens
de chicane et des subtilités que la nécessité et l’industrie font
inventer.’ La Mare, p. 98.
On the 4th of March the besiegers had lodged themselves solidly in
the demi-lune of the bastion of San Juan, and had commenced on the
very edge of the ditch a battery for six heavy guns (24-pounders),
which were to work upon the curtain between San Juan and Santiago,
the place selected for the breaching. On the 5th the embrasures were
completed, on the 7th the guns were got into position, on the 8th the
counterscarp was blown in by a mine, and the battery began to play upon
the walls at a distance of only sixty yards. Though the besieged kept
up a terrible fire upon it, and killed many gunners, its effect was
all that the French had desired. The ramparts began to crumble, and on
the morning of the 10th there was a breach seventy feet wide in the
curtain, near the bastion of Santiago, while the ditch was half filled
with débris. The engineers pronounced that an assault was practicable,
though another day’s fire would be desirable to finish the business.
The Spanish guns on the front attacked were all silenced, but from the
flanking bastions a fire was still kept up, which would obviously be
very murderous to the storming columns. It was clear that it would be
better to subdue it, and to batter the breach into an easier slope,
before the assault should be delivered.
Soult, however, was anxious to press matters, for he had received on
the 8th two pieces of news which completely changed the strategical
situation. The first was that Masséna had given orders for the
evacuation of Santarem and his other positions on the Tagus five days
before, and had already commenced his retreat towards the north. There
was no longer any chance of joining the Army of Portugal and attacking
Wellington. Indeed, it was probable that the English general would
find himself free to make a large detachment against the besiegers of
Badajoz, and that, if the town should not fall within the next ten
days, Beresford’s 15,000 men from the south bank of the Tagus would
appear at Elvas or Campo Mayor, ready to attack the siege-lines in the
rear. And Soult from his experiences of 1809 was quite aware that to
meet an Anglo-Portuguese army would not be a business like that of the
Gebora.
But this was not all. News of the most disquieting kind had just
arrived from Andalusia. Victor reported from in front of Cadiz that
a large expeditionary force, comprising an English division, had
landed at Algesiras and Tarifa on February 25th-26th, had moved into
the inland, and was evidently about to attack his siege-lines from
the rear. He expressed grave doubts as to the situation. Daricau,
the Governor of Seville, had even a worse report to make: the roving
division of Ballasteros, which had been driven into Portugal by Gazan
on January 25th, had recrossed the Spanish frontier the moment that
its pursuers had retired, had invaded the Condado de Niebla, and had
inflicted a severe defeat on Remond, whose small corps had been left
to cover that region, on the Rio Tinto (March 2nd). Daricau reported
that the Spaniards were marching on Seville, and that, after leaving
a skeleton garrison of convalescents and _Juramentados_ in the city,
he was moving out with a field force of no more than 1,600 bayonets to
rally Remond’s men, and fight at San Lucar la Mayor for the protection
of the capital of Andalusia. Ballasteros was believed to have a
considerable force, and the result was doubtful.
On the morning of the 10th of March, therefore, Soult was in no
small distress concerning the fate of Daricau and Victor, whose last
dispatches were now six or seven days old, and who might have suffered
disasters, for all that he knew, since those dispatches were written.
If modern methods of communication had existed in 1811, he would have
known already that Victor had suffered a complete and bloody defeat
at Barrosa on March 5th. He was therefore prepared to take great
risks at Badajoz, in order to have his army free at any cost for the
succour of Andalusia. Mortier was ordered to get all ready for a storm
during the course of the afternoon, but meanwhile, when a few hours’
battering after dawn had somewhat improved the slope of the breach,
a _parlementaire_ was sent into Badajoz at 9 a.m. to summon Imaz to
capitulate. The letter which he bore was couched in such elaborate
terms of politeness, complimenting the Spaniards on their long and
gallant resistance, and intimating that the most honourable terms would
be granted, that the governor should have suspected that Soult was
not sure of his ground. But to a man cowed in spirit and weighed down
by a responsibility too great for him, such hints were useless. Imaz
summoned a council of war, the regular refuge of weak commanders, and
called into it a veritable crowd of councillors, not only the three
generals and four brigadiers present in the city, the chief engineer,
and two artillery officers, but nearly a score of lieutenant-colonels
and majors commanding all the battalions represented in the garrison.
Unfortunately the engineer colonel, Julian Alvo, who led off the
discussion, was the most downhearted man of all: he reported that
the breach was from thirty to thirty-two ells (_varas_) broad, and
accessible, as it had an angle of forty-five to fifty degrees; that
there had been great difficulty in throwing up retrenchments and
inner defences behind it, because at this point the ground-level of
the streets of the town was much lower than that of the ramparts. He
pointed out that to garrison the whole enceinte with a minimum force
would absorb 5,000 men, which would leave only 2,000 to defend the
breach. ‘As to the number and _morale_ of the troops, the regimental
officers would be able to speak with better knowledge than himself.’
But he held that if the first assault were repulsed, the fall of the
town would only be delayed two or three days. If there were evidence
that the place might be relieved from outside within that time, it
was proper to resist to the last. If not, he thought that the heroic
garrison and the city ought not to be sacrificed. For they had fully
done their duty, and Badajoz as a fortress was full of defects[78].
[78] For all these interesting details see the verbatim report of
the Council of War in the Appendix to Arteche, vii. pp. 544-7.
Twelve colonels and majors gave their opinions in almost the same terms
as the engineer, many repeating his actual phrases, some adding that
the rank and file were demoralized[79], others that they were few in
number [they actually were only 1,800 less than the infantry of the
besieging force]. On the other hand, the commanding artillery officer,
Joaquin Caamano, set forth a very different case. ‘The enemy has not
yet subdued the fire of the place; the bastions flanking the breach
are intact, and have their guns in order; the breach itself has been
mined, and a parapet behind it has been thrown up during the last
night; in spite of the arguments of the commander of the engineers the
assault ought to be resisted, or as an alternative the garrison ought
to try to cut its way out by the north bank, towards Elvas or Campo
Mayor.’ Caamano was supported by the vote of another artilleryman, the
Portuguese João de Mello, commanding a company which Beresford had
sent into the city in the preceding year[80], and two major-generals,
Garcia and Mancio.
[79] ‘Hallarse la guarnicion en una total decadencia’ (opinion of
Col. Ponce de Leon of 1st Barcelona). The garrison ‘no es de la
primera classe en general’ (opinion of Col. Zamora of the Zafra
regiment). ‘El soldado, cansado ya de la mucha fatiga, trataría
de salvarse’ (opinion of Col. Hernandez of the Majorca regiment).
[80] See Soriano da Luz, iii. 337-8.
Then came the oddest part of the proceedings. The Governor gave as his
opinion that ‘though an inner line of defence has not been contrived,
and though very few guns still remain serviceable in the bastions
of Santiago, San José, and San Juan, and though we have no succour
for sustaining the assault, I think we should defend the place with
valour and constancy to our last breath.’ After which he at once
commenced negotiations with the French _parlementaire_, in direct
contradiction to his own vote! Apparently he thought that thirteen
votes for surrender against four for resistance among his councillors
covered his ignominy. The worst part of his conduct was that he was
aware that an army of succour was on the march to help him. For Badajoz
had semaphore communication with Elvas, and on the preceding day the
Portuguese General Leite had telegraphed to him, by Wellington’s
orders, that Beresford had been detached with two divisions to hasten
to his aid on March 8th[81]. As a matter of fact, Beresford’s movement
into Estremadura was retarded, and his corps did not move off for some
days later, but Imaz did not know this, and he was certainly guilty of
concealing from his officers that prompt succour had been promised, and
was actually upon its way. The whole responsibility for the surrender
falls on him, because he allowed Alvo, and the other voters for
capitulation, to produce uncontradicted the statement that no relief
was probable, while he knew himself that it had been promised. It is
impossible to deny that this was pusillanimity reaching into and over
the border of treason.
[81] D’Urban (Beresford’s chief of the staff) has in his
diary under March 8th: ‘At 3 o’clock the Marshal crossed the
river (Tagus) at Torres Novas and had an interview with Lord
Wellington. The immediate relief of Badajoz, whose danger becomes
imminent, has been judged desirable, this to be done with the
2nd and 4th Divisions. The Marshal returned at 8. Orders sent to
Punhete to throw the bridge of boats over the Tagus at Tancos for
the re-passage of General Stewart (2nd Division) and the passage
of General Cole (4th Division). The troops still on the south
bank of the Tagus are thrown into march upon Portalegre [near
Elvas]. Orders to Mr. Ogilvie, the commissary, to take measures
for supplies southward. General Menacho’s last sally, in which he
is unfortunately killed, has probably saved the place by gaining
of time, even if but for a few additional days.’ On the evening
of the 9th March the movement was stopped, on a false rumour that
Masséna was offering battle near Thomar, but news of it had been
sent to General Leite at Elvas, who passed it by semaphore from
Fort La Lippe to San Cristobal, which safely received it. It was
not till the 12th that the 2nd Division was ordered to Crato in
the Alemtejo, and Beresford reached Portalegre only on the 20th,
nine days after Badajoz fell. Wellington says (_Dispatches_, vii.
360-1) ‘the Governor surrendered on the day after he received my
assurances that he should be relieved, and my entreaty to hold
out till the last moment.’ Cf. ibid., 367.
After making some foolish hagglings for eighteenth-century ceremonial
of honour--the garrison was to march out by the breach, drums beating,
with two cannons at its head, with lighted matches, &c.--Imaz
surrendered at 3 o’clock in the afternoon, and the lofty San Cristobal
and the bridge-head fort were occupied by the French before dusk. Next
day the troops came forth, not by the breach, because it was found
impossible to scramble down it, but by the Trinidad gate, and laid down
their arms[82]. They numbered 7,880 men, and there were 1,100 sick and
wounded in the hospitals; the total loss in the town during the siege
had been 1,851 casualties, almost the same as that of the French, which
came to just under 2,000. But the 800 killed and wounded, and 4,000
prisoners of the Gebora must, of course, be added to the balance.
[82] Arteche (ix. 229) says that they used the breach, but La
Mare, an eye-witness, says that the Trinidad gate was the point
of exit. Soriano da Luz, using some Portuguese source unknown
to me, says that only some Spanish sappers came down the breach
slope, and they with difficulty.
Badajoz was found by the victors to contain rations for 8,000 men
sufficient to last for over a month, more than 150 serviceable cannon,
80,000 lb. of powder, 300,000 infantry cartridges, and two bridge
equipages. There is not the slightest doubt that if Menacho had lived
the place would have held out till it was relieved by Beresford. For
the latter, who was finally ordered to move to its relief on March
12th, would have reached its neighbourhood on the 18th, if he had not
been checked on the first day of his start by the news that the city
had fallen[83]. After the need for hurry had been removed by this
disheartening intelligence, he moved slowly, but was in front of Campo
Mayor, less than ten miles from Badajoz, on the 24th.
[83] This was known to Wellington and Beresford on the 14th, or
the night of the 13th, as is shown by Wellington, _Dispatches_,
vii. p. 359.
There is hardly ever an excuse for a governor who surrenders without
having withstood at least one assault, and Napoleon laid down the
general rule that any officer so doing should be sent before a court
martial. Imaz with his large garrison, his immense artillery resources,
and his certainty of being relieved in ten days was least of all men in
a condition to plead justification. It is only necessary to compare him
with Alvarez at Gerona, who with a smaller garrison and a far weaker
fortress held out for three months, after not one but three large
breaches had been made in his weak mediaeval enceinte. The Regency very
properly ordered Imaz to be put on his trial, but the proceedings,
which only commenced when the French liberated him, dragged on
interminably, and had not come to an end when the war ceased in 1814.
If ever there was a case where an example in the style of Admiral Byng,
_pour encourager les autres_, could have been rightfully made, this was
one.
Soult, relieved from desperate anxiety by Imaz’s surrender, had no
other thought than to return as quickly as possible to Andalusia.
Leaving Mortier at Badajoz with sixteen battalions and five regiments
of cavalry, about 11,000 men, he started back for Seville on the third
day after the capitulation, taking with him two regiments of dragoons
and the bulk of Gazan’s division[84]. As he marched he was in fear that
any hour might bring the news that Daricau had lost Seville, or that
Victor had been forced to abandon the siege of Cadiz, for the report
of the bloody defeat of Barrosa (March 5) had reached him on the 12th
of March, and heightened his anxiety. But he reached Seville on March
20th, to find that the situation might yet be saved, and that Andalusia
was still his own.
[84] Less two battalions left in Badajoz as garrison, and the
100th of the Line also left with Mortier.
His achievements during the two months of his Estremaduran campaign
had indeed been splendid. With an army not exceeding 20,000 men, and
operating in the worst of weather, he had taken two fortresses, won a
battle in the open field, and captured 16,000 prisoners. The Spanish
Army of Estremadura, which had seemed so powerful at the commencement
of his campaign, was almost exterminated, and the frontier of Portugal
was laid open. Soult had redeemed his promise to make a powerful
diversion in favour of Masséna, and it is hard to see how he could have
done more. For he could not have moved to the Tagus before Badajoz
fell, and (thanks to the courage of Menacho) that city had held out
till eight days after the date on which Masséna ordered the Army of
Portugal to commence its retreat to the north. Wellington’s plan of
starvation had, after all, achieved its effect, and Masséna had been
driven out of his position before Soult was in a position to come to
his aid. Even if Masséna had stayed a little longer at Santarem, it
seems hard to believe that Soult could have joined him, considering
that Elvas, a place stronger than Badajoz, was in his front, and that
the news from Andalusia spelt utter ruin unless he should return to
save it. He must have done so, even if on March 11 the Army of Portugal
had still been in its old position.
SECTION XXIII: CHAPTER III
MASSÉNA’S LAST WEEKS AT SANTAREM
JANUARY-MARCH 1811
After the arrival of Drouet and his division of the 9th Corps at Leiria
in the early days of the New Year, there was no serious movement of any
part of the French or the British armies for some weeks. The weather
was bad, and the troops on both sides remained in their cantonments,
save such of the French as were detailed for the perpetual marauding
parties up the line of the Zezere or in the southern slopes of the
Serra da Estrella by which alone the army was kept alive. The ranks of
Masséna’s battalions continued to grow thinner, but not at such a rate
as in November and December--for the weakly men had already been weeded
out by the dreadful mortality of the preceding period. Provisions had
daily to be sought further and further afield, but they were not wholly
exhausted. The Marshal waited anxiously for further news from Paris,
and for tidings that the Army of Andalusia was coming to his aid. But
after the arrival of Drouet’s column no further information got through
for five weeks, for Wilson and Trant were blocking the northern roads
with their militia as effectually as in the time before the 9th Corps
started from Almeida.
Wellington, for his part, was waiting for his great scheme of
starvation to work out to its logical end. He had, as has already been
observed, somewhat underrated the time for which the French would be
able to live on the resources of the country that he dominated. More
than once in December and January he thought that he had detected the
signs of a coming retreat, and had been disappointed[85]. The enemy
still remained in his old cantonments, and nothing more than petty
movements of small units had taken place. This anxious waiting was, as
might have been expected, trying to Wellington’s temper. He was not
shaken in his belief that he had made the right decision, but it was
exasperating to see the deadlock on the Tagus continuing far beyond his
expectations, and the Estremaduran campaign developing behind his back.
During the long weeks of tension the strain on his mind vented itself
in criticism, reasonable and unreasonable, of the authorities with whom
he had to work--the British and Portuguese Governments.
[85] I find in D’Urban’s diary under January 13: ‘Concurring
testimony of deserters, &c., announces some general movement on
the part of the enemy. Lord W. inclines to imagine that this
will be a retreat, and that the retreat will be by the Mondego;
to this he is inclined by Claparéde being ordered to take post
at Guarda. But I have my doubts if anything like retreat has yet
entered the head of Masséna.’ This is borne out by Wellington to
Beresford of same day. (_Dispatches_, vii. 138.)
The administration of Spencer Perceval had done its best to maintain
the war and to support its general, under great difficulties. It had
not shrunk from making financial exertions of the most unprecedented
kind in order to keep up the war in Portugal. As Lord Liverpool pointed
out to Wellington[86], the army in the Peninsula had cost £2,778,796
in 1808, £2,639,764 in 1809; in 1810 the sum asked for had risen to
£6,061,235--more than double the total of either of the preceding
years. And this did not include either ordnance stores, supplies sent
out in kind, or the hire of transports, which were calculated to make
out £2,000,000 more. The Government had provided these sums in face of
a bitter and carping opposition on the part of the Whigs, and despite
of much lukewarmness among their own followers, of whom many considered
that the limit of reasonable expense had been reached. As Lord
Liverpool observed, the increase of the Portuguese subsidy, and the
taking into British pay of the larger half of the Portuguese army, had
been ‘carried by a small and unwilling majority[87].’ The Government
had driven the money bills through the House of Commons only by smart
cracking of the whip of party loyalty. They had promised Wellington
that his army should be increased by 14,000 men during the course of
the winter, and the promise was in the course of fulfilment. Many
regiments had already arrived; all were to reach the Tagus before March
was out. This had been done in a time of dire distress to the Tory
party, George III had been prostrated by his last attack of insanity,
which was destined to be permanent, in October 1810. As it became
certain that his recovery was not to be looked for, the appointment of
the Prince of Wales as Regent was the obvious and necessary corollary.
But the Prince was still reckoned a Whig, and it was believed with
reason that his first act on coming into power would be to dismiss the
Perceval Ministry, and to call upon Grey, Grenville, and Sheridan to
form an administration. The Tories all through the winter thought that
they were destined to immediate expulsion from office, and had before
them a long strife with the Crown. It was only at the beginning of
February 1811 that the younger George, who had taken the oath as Regent
on the 6th of that month, announced, to the general surprise of the
nation, that he had no intention of dismissing the Ministry, and was
prepared to work with them. Perceval and Liverpool, during the three
preceding months, were doing their best for the army in Portugal while
they believed that a political disaster was hanging over their heads.
They did not yet realize that the Prince’s Whig principles had worn
thin of late, and that he was tired of the dictatorial manners which
Grey and Grenville had adopted towards him.
[86] Lord Liverpool to Wellington, February 20, 1811.
[87] Lord Liverpool to Wellington, September 20, 1810.
It is terrible to contemplate the results which might have followed
had the Whigs come into office at this juncture. They were pledged
to the theory that the Peninsular War was hopeless and ought to be
abandoned. Grey and Grenville had stated that Wellington was a failure;
they had denied that Talavera was a victory. Brougham had summarized
the feelings of the party in a savage attack upon both Government
and general in the _Edinburgh Review_. At this very moment--February
1811--Ponsonby, the leader of the opposition in the House of Commons,
was preaching that ‘France cannot be prevented from overrunning Spain
by continuing a war in Portugal, ... so that neither in Spain or
Portugal has anything happened that can give reason to believe that
the war will ever terminate to our advantage[88].’ Freemantle, another
leader, maintained that ‘Bonaparte, having conquered the rest of the
Continent, must also conquer the Peninsula, because he has greater
numbers to bring up after every defeat, and therefore defeat of one
of his armies was vain[89].’ Every Whig journal was prophesying the
expulsion of Wellington from Portugal within a few weeks, as indeed
they had been doing ever since October 1809.
[88] Hansard for 1811, vol. xix. 397.
[89] Plumer Ward’s _Diary_, i. 406.
All honour, therefore, is due to the statesmen who continued in the
midst of all their own troubles, constitutional and financial, to give
a steady support to Wellington, and to redeem the pledges which they
had made to him. When Napier in his great history declares that the
Ministry betrayed Wellington, that ‘Perceval had neither the wisdom to
support nor the manliness to put an end to the war in the Peninsula;
his crooked contemptible policy was shown by withholding what was
necessary to continue the contest and throwing upon the General the
responsibility of failure,’ he is merely venting the malignant folly of
the Whigs of his day, which ought to have been forgotten by the time
that he took his pen in hand, long after the war was over.
It is unfortunately true that Wellington, in the stress of waiting
hours during the winter of 1810-11, used querulous and captious
language concerning his supporters at home. The main point of his
complaint was that he was not supplied rapidly enough with specie, that
bills were sent him when he wanted dollars or guineas, and that so the
pay of the army was falling into arrears. The fact was deplorable; but
on a consideration of the condition of the English monetary system
at this date it is hard to see how the difficulty could have been
avoided. Since the suspension of the coinage of guineas in 1797, and
the introduction of an almost unlimited issue of bank-notes, gold had
gradually become an almost invisible commodity in Great Britain[90].
The guinea, when seen, commanded an ever-increasing premium; by 1809
it was worth £1 5_s._, or more, in paper. British silver was equally
deficient; there had been none coined at the Mint since 1787, and the
internal trade of the country was being transacted with difficulty, by
means of Spanish dollars or half-dollars stamped with the king’s head,
or by local tokens struck by banks and corporations, which only served
in the immediate neighbourhood of their place of issue[91]. The Bank
of England dollar, the only coin which circulated generally, passed
for 5_s._, though it had only the value of 4_s._ 2_d._ in its weight of
silver. When Great Britain could find no specie for its own internal
business, the Government was required to send enormous remittances in
cash to the Peninsula, because all transactions therein were made in
silver or gold, and English paper was not negotiable[92]. That the
coin was sent at all seems marvellous, rather than that it was sent
late and in insufficient quantities. The worst time of all was in the
early spring of 1811, when there was a severe commercial crisis at
home, and the Government was issuing exchequer bills, to the amount of
£6,000,000, as an advance to merchants and manufacturers to stave off
general bankruptcy in London[93].
[90] Note that Perceval and Liverpool inherited the paper
currency of Pitt, and were not responsible for its creation.
[91] For some curious anecdotes as to the dearth of silver change
see Lord Folkestone’s speech quoted in Yonge’s _Life of Lord
Liverpool_, i. 368.
[92] ‘How can you expect that we can buy specie here [London]
with the exchange 30 per cent. against us, and guineas selling
at 25 shillings?’ Huskisson to Wellington (private), 19th July,
1809. _Wellington MSS._, see Mr. Fortescue’s _British Statesmen
of the Great War_, p. 254.
[93] For notes on this see Walpole’s _Life of Perceval_, ii. pp.
207-8.
It was certainly an unhappy thing that Wellington could look upon the
whole situation as one in which ‘the Government chooses to undertake
large services, and not to supply us with sufficient pecuniary
means[94],’ and could write that the present ministers complained so
much of the expense of the war, that he considered it not impossible
that the army might be recalled bag and baggage--a remark made not
in February but in March, when Masséna had actually retreated from
the Tagus[95]. This rather unjustifiable complaint was probably the
direct result of Lord Liverpool’s letter of February 20, in which he
had set forth at length the enormous burden of the war, and expressed
his doubts as to whether the augmentation of the Peninsular army by
14,000 men, for which he had just provided, could be permanently kept
up[96]. He suggested that when the ‘present crisis’ (i. e. Masséna’s
presence at the gates of Lisbon) had come to an end, the army should
send home some of its less effective regiments, and that the ideal of
30,000 effective rank and file (not including the garrison of Cadiz)
would probably have to be kept in mind. But long before the dispatch
of February 20 Wellington thought that he had detected an intention
on Liverpool’s part to bring the whole Peninsular War to an end,
on financial grounds, and wrote most bitterly to his kinsman Pole,
accusing the Secretary of State of being half-hearted, and showing a
deep-rooted distrust of his influence in the Cabinet[97]. All this
was forgotten when the firmness of the Ministry in support of the war
became evident, and in later years Wellington wrote to acknowledge
in the most handsome style the support that he had received from the
Perceval administration[98].
[94] To Charles Stuart, _Dispatches_, vii. p. 462.
[95] To Admiral Berkeley, _Dispatches_, vii. p. 415.
[96] ‘The recent augmentation of your force must be considered
as made with reference to the present exigency.... We are very
anxious, not with a view of abandoning, but for the purpose
of maintaining the contest in the Peninsula for an indefinite
time, that when the present crisis shall appear to be over, you
should send home the excess of your force, after keeping 30,000
effective rank and file for Portugal, and a sufficient garrison
for Cadiz, selecting of course those regiments to be sent home
which are least efficient, and consequently least fitted for
active service.’
[97] Mr. Fortescue writes: ‘This was unfair. Perceval and
Liverpool had deliberately turned their backs upon Pitt’s old
policy of spasmodic efforts all over the world, in favour of a
steady and persistent feeding of the war in one quarter--the
Peninsula. Wellington himself had approved the change in his
letters of 1810, had named the amount of money that he wanted,
and fixed the figure of the reinforcements that he asked. But in
1811 he never ceased to ask for more men and more money, till
Liverpool was obliged to remind him very gently, that he was
going far beyond his own estimates.’ He had got to the stage
of writing that Government having embarked on the contest, and
chosen the best officer they could find, must give him the
largest army they could collect, and reinforce it to the utmost,
without asking precisely how many men were wanted, and for what
precise objects. It was Mr. Fortescue who indicated to me two
important passages about Liverpool which are omitted from the
printed version of Wellington’s letters to Pole of January 11 and
March 31, 1811, in _Supplementary Dispatches_, vii. pp. 40-3 and
93.
[98] See especially Wellington to Dudley Perceval (the
premier’s son), June 6th, 1835, a protest against Napier’s wild
misrepresentations.
During all these weeks of waiting Wellington was also troubled by
problems with regard to the internal state of Portugal. Two main
sources of worry can be traced in his correspondence. The first was
the inefficiency of the Portuguese commissariat, which bid fair to
cause absolute starvation among those brigades of the national army
which were not incorporated with British divisions and supplied from
the British stores. Slow and irregular forwarding of provisions to
the corps stationed in advanced or remote positions led to a dreadful
increase in the number of sick. We find Wellington complaining that
regiments which had 1,200 men in line at Bussaco could only show 1,000
or 900 under arms in February, although they had received considerable
drafts from their dépôts at midwinter. D’Urban’s daily notes bear out
the statements of the Commander-in-Chief. He asserts with indignation
that by ‘the villany of commissaries,’ the same quantity of flour
which provided 15½ rations for the British soldier was returned
as having given only 9 to the Portuguese--the balance having been
embezzled. Allowances, of course, must be made for the difficulties of
a government of whose territory a good third had been depopulated by
the orders of Wellington. But the trouble does not seem to have been
so much the actual want of food-stuffs at head quarters[99]--great
quantities were got from the Alemtejo and the north--as the
inefficiency of distribution, which left outlying brigades sometimes
foodless for two or three days at a time. Clothing and shoes were also
very slow in arriving at the front. At the bottom the cause of all this
inefficiency was probably (as Wellington observes in one letter[100])
the want of money to keep up an adequate transport service, and it
might be pleaded that in the distressful condition of the country the
deficit was no fault of the government, but unavoidable. Wellington’s
view was that with greater economy in civil expenses, and more careful
supervision of commissaries and contractors, there was money enough
to pay for all necessary military objects. He was probably right, but
there is small wonder if a provisional government like the Regency
found it hard to introduce administrative reforms in the midst of a
crisis, and with the enemy almost at the gates of the capital. After
all, the effort which Portugal had made was splendid, and the whole
nation had accepted the awful necessity of the depopulation of its
central provinces with a loyalty that was surprising, if we consider
the magnitude of the sacrifice.
[99] See Wellington to Beresford from Cartaxo, February 12.
(_Dispatches_, vii. 253.)
[100] Ibid. ‘The cause of the state of deficiency is the old want
of money to pay for carriage.’
There was, however, a small minority of traitors still left in
Portugal, and their intrigues seem to have given Wellington much
concern, not because there was any danger from their personal action,
but because they conveyed to Masséna the intelligence as to the
condition of affairs in Lisbon, and in Europe at large, which he
could not obtain in any other way, owing to the strict blockade kept
up around his rear. On the last day of the old year four officers,
two colonels and two majors, had fled out of Lisbon and joined the
French[101]. They were all men who had quarrelled with Beresford,
and deserted in revenge: but that four field officers could turn
traitors at once was a most distressing sign. Wellington had fears of
a general plot against the English, and was inclined to suspect the
Bishop of Oporto and President Sousa of knowing more about it than
befitted members of the Regency. He was apparently mistaken, though
their petulance and intermittent protests against all his actions
seemed to him to justify any doubts. But minor persons in Lisbon, old
friends of Alorna and his Francophil policy, had contrived to open
up communication with the renegade General Pamplona, and to send him
newspapers, reports of the movement of troops, and other miscellaneous
information, using as their intermediaries smugglers, who passed
the lines at night to sell coffee, sugar, and other luxuries to the
French[102]. For there was a ready market for such things in the army
of Masséna. Fortunately this illicit correspondence was of little
importance, since there was no solid party in Portugal in favour of
Napoleon, and the information conveyed by newspapers as to affairs in
Lisbon was not, at this time, at all encouraging to the French; while
that as to events in England or remote parts of Spain was too old in
date to be of any great profit to them.
[101] Their names, San Miguel, Loulé, Candido Xavier, and Manuel
de Castro, are given by Fririon (Masséna’s aide-de-camp) in his
diary. Major Leslie tells me that he cannot identify them in the
Portuguese army-list of 1810, and thinks that two of them at
least were only Ordenança officers.
[102] For details as to all this see Wellington to Charles
Stuart, February 10. (_Dispatches_, vii. 237-8.)
Meanwhile Wellington regarded his position as secure for the moment.
The Army of Portugal, even after Drouet’s arrival, was too weak to
attack him. Soult’s movement from Andalusia at first caused him some
uneasiness, for he had conceived a notion that the expedition from
Andalusia, leaving Badajoz and Elvas on its left, and ignoring the
Spanish Army of Estremadura, might be intending to march by Merida and
Truxillo to Almaraz, and from thence to join Masséna by the circuitous
route through Coria and Castello Branco[103]. He was reassured as to
this possibility when the news came that Soult, unable to undertake
anything bold so long as Gazan had not joined him, had sat down to
besiege Olivenza on January 11th. If the Marshal intended to take
all the Estremaduran fortresses before moving on, occupation could
be found for him for many a week, and when La Romana’s two divisions
had been sent to join Mendizabal on January 22, Wellington imagined
that he might regard the situation on this side as secure. It will be
remembered that he gave Mendizabal elaborate advice as to the course
that he was to pursue, and he was justified in believing that if that
advice was followed Badajoz would never fall, and Soult for the moment
would become an almost negligible quantity.
[103] This fear is expressed in a letter to Charles Stuart dated
January 16 (_Dispatches_, vii. 147), on the news that Mortier’s
cavalry had seized the bridge of Merida. ‘The passage of the
Tagus by Mortier removes to a distant period the danger of
Alemtejo; but it shows that we may be attacked at an early period
in our positions. For Mortier, supposing him to march by Almaraz,
can be on the Zezere in the first days of February, and I think
it possible that the battle for the possession of this country,
and probably the fate of the Peninsula, will be fought in less
than a month from this time.’
There was always the chance, however, that Soult might turn against the
Alemtejo after all, and that Masséna might make a desperate effort to
cross the Tagus and join him. Hence Wellington spent much thought in
devising means to prevent this danger from coming into being. Beresford
received elaborate orders as to the conduct that he was to pursue, with
his corps south of the Tagus, in case Masséna attempted a passage, or
Soult appeared before Elvas. In the latter case the French would be
fought by an army composed of Mendizabal’s Estremadurans, Beresford’s
corps, and the brigade of Portuguese line troops in Elvas, a mass of
over 30,000 men. This force ought to suffice, but if the worst came,
and a defeat were suffered, the army south of the Tagus would try to
defend first the passages of the Zatas river (or the Benevente river
as Wellington usually calls it), then those of the Almansor, and lastly
the line across the neck of the Setubal peninsula, opposite Lisbon,
where there was a short front of ten miles from Setubal itself (which
was fortified) past the castle of Palmella to Moita on the Tagus
estuary. But behind this again was the strongest defensive position of
all, a Lines of Torres Vedras on a small scale[104]. The works erected
here were an afterthought: they had formed no part of the original
scheme for the fortification of Lisbon, but when it had been proved to
Wellington that batteries on the Heights of Almada, beyond the broad
Tagus mouth, might incommode the shipping in the harbour, and possibly
the town itself [the range was 2,300 yards], he had ordered, early
in December, that the Portuguese labourers set free from work on the
old lines by Masséna’s departure should be transferred to the Almada
front[105]. Here a line of 8,000 yards from sea to sea was marked out,
and strengthened with no less than seventeen closed redoubts, connected
by a covered way. Eighty-six guns were allotted to them, and their
defence was to be given over to the marines of the fleet, and the local
militia and trained Ordenança (_Atiradores nacionaes_) of Lisbon.
It was calculated that Beresford would find a garrison of 7,500 men
already placed in these forts if he were ever forced back on to them.
It seemed impossible that such a short front, so strongly held, could
ever be broken through.
[104] All this may be found in Wellington’s dispatch of January
12, 1811, where he details the successive positions which
Beresford must try to hold.
[105] For a description of this front see Jones, _Lines of Torres
Vedras_, pp. 43-5.
But all this was a precaution designed to face a very unlikely--if a
possible--situation of affairs. It was much more probable that Masséna
would try to pass the Tagus higher up, than that Soult would fight
his way to its mouth across the Alemtejo, and every precaution was
taken to give Masséna a hot reception if he should make the attempt.
It was clear that his starting-point for such an enterprise must be
Punhete and the mouth of the Zezere, for there were collected the
ninety boats and the materials for the floating bridges which had been
created by the energy of General Eblé. At Santarem, the other place
where Masséna had boats, the stock of them was known to be too small
for a passage in force. Beresford, it will be remembered, had already
established batteries which commanded the mouth of the Zezere, and
had several times stopped small explorations by the French boats.
Only on one occasion did a few succeed in running past down-stream.
On the whole it was considered unlikely that Masséna would attempt
such a serious matter as the crossing of the Tagus opposite Punhete.
D’Urban, Beresford’s chief of the staff, reported ‘It is altogether
improbable that he will commit himself, unless in combination with
the army arriving from the south. The stream is very rapid. The boats
cannot return to the original point of embarkation for a second load
of men, nor to the second point for a third load, but must cross at
each time to a point lower down, owing to the current. This must and
will occasion great disunion and scattering among the parts of the
division who first pass, all the more because they will be vigorously
opposed from the beginning. It appears to me that no attempt of the
kind can succeed. The Zezere-mouth alone is their _place d’armes_,
and leaves little else for us to watch: hence arises for them a
difficulty of accomplishing this enterprise that would appear almost
unsurmountable.’[106] It is most interesting to compare this judgement
from the English side with the discussion of the problem by the French
generals, which followed a few days later, and with which we shall
presently have to deal[107].
[106] From a long note by D’Urban in his unpublished diary, dated
January 22, 1811.
[107] See pp. 77-9.
Meanwhile both parties were decidedly nervous as to the possible
movements of their adversaries. If Wellington sometimes thought that
Masséna might make an attempt to cross the Tagus, Masséna was very
reasonably suspicious that Wellington might make a surprise-attack
upon Junot’s corps along the upper Rio Mayor, and try to cut it off,
before it could be succoured by Ney from Thomar and Golegão. This
suspicion led to the only skirmish that marked the month of January. On
the 19th the Marshal ordered Junot to make a reconnaissance in force
beyond the river, along the Alcoentre road, to see whether a rumour
that an English division had been brought up behind Pack’s Portuguese
outposts were true. The Duke of Abrantes conducted the affair himself,
at the head of 3,000 infantry of Clausel’s division and 500 horse.
He pressed in the cavalry screen in front of Pack, consisting of a
squadron of the 1st Hussars of the King’s German Legion, and occupied
the village of Rio Mayor, from which he drove out two Portuguese
companies. Discovering nothing in reserve save Pack’s brigade, drawn
up for resistance on the heights to the rear, and noting no red-coated
battalions, the French withdrew after a little skirmishing, and
returned to their lines. During this trifling affair Junot received a
painful but not dangerous wound from the carbine of a hussar vedette.
The ball struck him on the side of the nose, broke the bone there,
and lodged in his cheek; but it was extracted with no difficulty, and
he was able to resume command of his corps within a few days[108].
Nothing further occurred on this front till February 10, when the
English cavalry paid a return visit to the French outlying picket east
of the Rio Mayor, drove it in, and retired with an officer and ten men
prisoners.
[108] The best account of this reconnaissance is in the Journal
of Sprünglin, pp. 462-3.
On February 5th the third and final period of Masséna’s stay on the
Tagus may be said to have begun, with the arrival of the last orders
from Paris which he was destined to receive. He had been more than a
month without any official intelligence of what was going on behind
him, the latest dispatches to hand having been those brought by Drouet
at the end of the old year. But General Foy now appeared with the
orders which the Emperor had issued on December 22nd. He had cut his
way from Ciudad Rodrigo across the eastern mountains, and along the
Estrada Nova, at the head of a column of 1,800 men, mostly composed
of drafts belonging to the 2nd Corps, which he had found waiting on
the Spanish frontier. The rains had been continuous, the badness of
the road was notorious, and Colonel Grant with a small party of local
Ordenança hung about the route of the column for the last five days of
its march, and slew or captured more than a hundred stragglers. The
total loss by fatigue and sickness was much greater[109].
[109] There is a good account of this march by Foy in his _Vie
Militaire_, ed. Girod de l’Ain, pp. 127-8.
The orders brought by Foy were not particularly comforting to Masséna.
He was bidden to hold on to his position till he had received succour
from the Army of the South, and also from the Army of the Centre.
Mortier’s corps, as he had already been assured, would at some
not-distant date make its appearance on the Tagus, in the direction
of Montalvão and Villaflor. A column from the Army of the Centre was
to advance to Plasencia, and communicate with the Marshal via Coria
and Castello Branco. He was not expected to take the offensive till he
should have received these reinforcements, but he must use Drouet’s
troops to keep open communications with Almeida, and ‘regularize’ the
war. There was no order for him to cross the Tagus into the Alemtejo in
search of Mortier: it was Mortier who was to come to him. Practically
all this amounted to a command to wait and endure--the initiative was
to come from outside, with the arrival of reinforcements from the south
and east. ‘L’empereur appelait son armée à une lutte de fatigue et de
persévérance,’ as Foy commented.
But this ‘strife of toil and perseverance’ had already been going on
since November, the dispatch was forty-four days old when it reached
Masséna, and the co-operation by the Armies of the South and Centre,
which it promised, showed no signs of coming to pass. As a matter
of fact, when Foy arrived, Mortier’s divisions were absorbed in the
siege of Badajoz, and Soult, with Mendizabal upon his hands, could
have moved neither a detachment nor the whole 5th Corps to the Tagus.
The promised assistance from the Army of the Centre, a mere column
of 3,000 men under Lahoussaye, had advanced first to Truxillo and
then to Plasencia, as was promised, but had turned back for want of
provisions long before reaching the Portuguese frontier. Masséna pushed
several reconnaissances towards the upper Tagus, in the hope of getting
information as to the appearance of friendly troops on either side of
the river, but could learn nothing. He says that he judged from the
tranquillity shown by the English south of the Tagus that there could
be no French force near enough to cause them disquietude. Meanwhile the
power of the Army of Portugal to live by plundering the country-side
was being reduced every day. The distance at which food had to be
sought was ever increasing, and the loss suffered by the parties which
were cut off while raiding was growing daily more serious. The number
of prisoners taken by the British cavalry on Junot’s flank and Drouet’s
front amounted to several hundreds in January and February[110]. Many
more were destroyed by the Ordenança, who were goaded to ferocious
activity by the ever-growing cruelty of the marauders, and dogged every
expedition that set out with an ever-increasing skill. They avoided the
main bodies, but trapped and shot small parties that strayed more than
a few hundred yards from the column, with patient persistence.
[110] For details of this see the Diary of Tomkinson of the 16th
Light Dragoons. His own regiment alone brought in 82 prisoners
between January 19 and February 23. There were some very fine
feats of arms on a small scale in this outpost fighting, notably
a capture made by Lieutenant Bishop on January 19th, when with
six men he charged twenty chasseurs, and took eight with twelve
horses.
After waiting for a fortnight after the arrival of Foy and the imperial
dispatches, and learning nothing of any approach of the long-promised
troops of Mortier, Masséna assembled the corps leaders and certain
other generals at Golegão on February 19th, at a meeting which he
carefully refrained from calling a council of war. That he should do
so was in itself a sign of flagging confidence; he had shown himself
very autocratic hitherto, and had asked the advice of none of his
lieutenants. Now he regarded the situation as so desperate that he
thought that he must either give up the game and retreat from the
Tagus, or risk an attack on the allied forces south of that river,
with the object of crossing into the Alemtejo and going off to join
Soult. His own mind was practically made up in favour of the former
alternative; but he knew that if he took it without consulting his
lieutenants, they would probably report him to the Emperor as having
despaired before all was lost. The council of war was really called for
the purpose of arguing them down, and committing them to the policy of
retreat[111], so that they should not be able to protest against it at
a later date.
[111] The best account of this council of war is Foy’s (in
his _Vie Militaire_, pp. 129-32), which is contemporary. It
differs largely from Koch’s narrative in his _Vie de Masséna_.
It is quite convincing when compared with Masséna’s explanatory
dispatch to Berthier of March 6th, which sets forth his own
arguments for the retreat. They are the same which Foy attributes
to him in the précis of the meeting of February 18th.
The three corps-commanders came to the meeting each with a scheme of
his own to develop. Ney proposed to pass the Tagus by force, with the
whole army, to abandon Portugal for the moment, and to join Soult. The
united armies should establish themselves on the Guadiana, complete
the conquest of Estremadura, and then, after calling in all possible
reinforcements, take in hand the invasion of the Alemtejo, and an
attack on Lisbon from the south. Junot hotly combated this scheme:
to pass into the Alemtejo meant the surrender of all Portugal to
Wellington, who would chase the 9th Corps out of the Beira; it would
be ‘giving up the whole game.’ He wished to establish a bridge-head on
the other side of the Tagus, but not to send the whole army across,
merely to occupy it with a strong detachment, and then to wait for
Mortier’s promised appearance. Reynier’s scheme was a variant of
Junot’s, but infinitely more dangerous, for he was a general of
second-rate capacity. He would throw one corps across the Tagus, to
scour the Alemtejo for provisions, and to try to find Mortier. The
other two should hold on at Santarem, in the entrenched positions which
had already checked Wellington for three months. The English general,
he said, was timid, and would never dare to assault these formidable
works, even in the absence of one-third of the army.
Masséna had no difficulty in demolishing this last proposal. The
passage of the Tagus would be a dangerous and difficult operation in
face of an enemy who was upon the alert, who had fortified all the
obvious landing-places on the opposite bank, and who was known to have
established a perfect system of signals and communications. It might
very probably end in a bloody repulse. But granting that it succeeded,
and that a corps of 15,000 men got over into the Alemtejo, victory
would have consequences more disastrous than failure. For Wellington
would fall upon the two corps left north of the Tagus with his main
force, perhaps 60,000 men; and when separated from the troops detached
in the Alemtejo the Army of Portugal would have only 30,000 in line.
‘N’est-il pas à craindre que cette portion de l’armée, séparée de
l’autre, ne soit attaquée, battue, détruite, par un ennemi à qui, pour
nous faire beaucoup de mal, il ne manque que de le vouloir?’ This
was absolutely irrefutable logic; nothing could be more insane than
Reynier’s proposal to separate the French army into two parts by the
broad stream of the Tagus. Wellington could have destroyed with ease
the two-thirds of it left north of the river, unless that portion
should be ready to evacuate all else that it held and shut itself up to
be besieged in Santarem--the only possible centre of resistance. But to
be shut up in Santarem meant starvation on a worse scale than had been
hitherto endured. For the army, losing its old broad foraging-ground,
would be compelled to live entirely upon what might be sent it from
the northern Alemtejo by the detached corps; and that region was
known to be barren and thinly peopled, and had probably already been
stripped of its resources by Wellington’s orders. (As a matter of fact
such orders had been issued some time back.) ‘Faut-il pour un intérêt
si modique que celui de manger un mois dans l’Alemtejo risquer une
pareille opération?’ asked the Marshal. And any dispassionate judge
must decide that his question could only be answered in the negative.
Ney’s proposal, to take the whole army across the Tagus into the
Alemtejo, was not quite so easy to dispose of. But there stood against
its first necessary preliminary--the passage of the river--the same
objections that were registered against Reynier’s plan. The passage
might end in a repulse, and the position of the army would be very bad
if, having concentrated at Punhete (or at Santarem) for the crossing,
it found itself encircled by all Wellington’s forces, which would march
in upon it the moment that Ney’s and Junot’s corps were withdrawn from
their present cantonments. The Marshal disliked the idea of having to
fight a battle, with the Tagus at his back, and all his possible lines
of retreat intercepted[112]. Or again, the crossing might succeed, so
far as the throwing of a vanguard across to the Alemtejo bank went. But
Wellington would close in upon the army while it was actually passing,
and might easily destroy its rearguard, or even its larger half, by
attacking when the rest was across the water, and unable to return
with sufficient promptness.
[112] ‘Bientôt viendrait le moment où on serait forcé de se jeter
sur l’une ou sur l’autre rive; et alors on pourrait trouver les
têtes-de-pont entourées par une contrevallation de l’ennemi, ou
bien l’armée se verrait forcée à recevoir bataille avec un fleuve
au dos, en voulant se porter sur la rive droite.’ Masséna to
Berthier, March 6.
If the army were so lucky as to get off entire into the barren
Alemtejo, and to unite with the 5th Corps on the Guadiana, Wellington,
as Junot had pointed out, would have a free hand in northern and
central Portugal, and would sweep Claparéde out of it, while he need
not be seriously alarmed at any attack on Lisbon from the south of the
Tagus, for the city was covered by the Almada lines[113] and could
not be harassed from this quarter. Meanwhile the Army of Portugal
would be cut off from all the supplies and reinforcements which were
accumulating for it on the frontier of Spain, at Ciudad Rodrigo and
Salamanca; ‘it would be going off to a distance from its real line of
operations and of communications.’
[113] It is interesting to see from Masséna’s dispatch of March
6 that he was aware of the existence both of the Setubal and the
Almada fortifications.
Masséna then came to the point: having argued down the schemes of
Reynier and Ney, he developed his own determination, which was to
hold on for the few days more that seemed possible. The marauding
operations that fed the army were rapidly growing less productive, and
the moment was approaching when the daily plunder would no longer meet
the daily consumption, and then, in case the long-expected Soult did
not appear, the army must retire on to the line of the Mondego[114].
There, in a country comparatively undamaged, Masséna hoped to hold out
some fifty or sixty days at the least: the whole 9th Corps would be
available for opening and maintaining the communications with Almeida
and Ciudad Rodrigo, and reinforcements and stores would easily be
brought forward[115]. But no further offensive movements could be
contemplated; the army was exhausted and needed a long rest; in the end
it would probably have to retire within the borders of Spain--perhaps
to Alcantara on the Tagus, perhaps into Leon.
[114] Foy, present at the council, where he was asked to comment
on the Emperor’s last orders, which he had brought himself,
renders Masséna’s decision in his diary as: ‘Que faut-il donc
faire? Tenir ici le plus longtemps que nous pourrons: voir d’ici
là ce qui se passera dans l’Alemtejo: puis, si rien n’est changé,
nous transporter sur le Mondego, en laissant un corps d’armée à
la rive gauche de cette rivière.’ [_Vie Militaire_, p. 131.]
[115] This comes from Masséna’s dispatch to Berthier of March 6th.
Ney and Reynier seem to have retired from the conference rather talked
down than convinced, and the latter sent in to his Commander-in-Chief a
sort of protest, taking the form of a précis of the meeting, in which
the arguments used and the result arrived at were so misrepresented
that Masséna caused a formal document to be drawn up and signed by five
other generals present at the council, in which it was declared that
the précis was wholly incorrect. Apparently Reynier had intended to get
his protest to the Emperor’s hands, in order to free himself from any
responsibility in approving a retreat which he thought that his master
would condemn[116].
[116] For details as to this see Foy’s narrative quoted above.
The few weeks for which the Army of Portugal retained its position
after the conference at Golegão, were spent by all its units as a mere
period of preparation for the retreat, for the generals had long made
up their minds that Soult would never appear on the Tagus. They seem
even to have thought that he might have retired from Estremadura,
for the distant thunder of the bombardment of Badajoz, which had
been audible at Punhete during the first half of February, seemed to
have ceased. This must have been due to some change of atmospheric
conditions, for it was going on with redoubled energy in the last days
of the month. But Masséna and his lieutenants argued that either the
siege had been raised, or else Soult had taken the place, and yet was
not marching to the Tagus. They seem to have regarded his doings as a
negligible quantity, when coming to their final resolve.
During the last days of February all the corps received preliminary
orders, which could have no other meaning than that a retreat had been
decided upon. The divisions were ordered to send their parks and heavy
baggage to the rear, and the divisional batteries were told to complete
as many gun-teams with good serviceable horses as was possible, by
destroying caissons, and drafting their animals on to the guns. In
some cases batteries had to be reduced to three or four pieces,
even when half the caissons had been burnt. The 8th Corps destroyed
fifty-one caissons on the 24th-27th February, yet still could find
only four horses each for those remaining, including animals that were
sick or barely fit for service[117]. But the transport of food was
even more important than that of artillery material; in the central
magazines there was gathered together some fifteen days’ of biscuit
for the whole army, the flour for which had been procured with the
greatest difficulty in small quantities, and had been hoarded to the
last. This was issued to the regiments, with stringent orders not to
use it till the actual retreat began. Some units were so pressed by
starvation that they began to consume it, and ultimately started with
only eight or ten days consumption in their packs or on their waggons.
The whole of the transport was in a deplorable state; if the cavalry
and artillery had lost 5,088 horses since November, the train had been
depleted of draught-beasts in a still greater proportion, since they
were both weaker to start with, and less carefully kept. Some regiments
had no longer any horses attached to them, and could only show a few
pack-mules and asses, quite insufficient for carrying their reserve
ammunition and food[118]. Two things were certain--the one that if
the army could not pick up provisions on the way by marauding, it
would ultimately have to retire to its base within the frontiers of
Spain. And no food could be collected for some days, since the first
five stages of the retreat would be through a region already stripped
bare. The second was that the ammunition might suffice for one general
engagement, supposing that there was heavy fighting during the retreat,
but that it would hardly be able to serve for two.
[117] Journal of Noël of the Artillery of the 8th Corps, p. 137.
[118] For general statements as to the miserable state of the
material of the army see Masséna’s dispatch to Berthier of March
6, 1811.
On March 3rd Masséna issued the orders which marked his determination
to retreat at once. Ney was directed to march on the next day from
Thomar, with Marchand’s division and some cavalry, and join Drouet
at Leiria in the rear--they were ultimately to be the covering force
of the retiring army. On the 5th Reynier was directed to send back
his first division (Merle) from Santarem towards the rear, while the
second division (Heudelet) continued to hold the old lines. On this
same day Ney’s second division (Mermet) evacuated Torres Novas, and
marched northward to Ourem near Leiria, while one of Junot’s divisions
(Solignac) massed itself at Pernes, to await the arrival of the other
(Clausel), which was to hold the outposts till the last moment. This
was the critical day of the concentration, for of the eight divisions
forming the Army of Portugal five had started off, leaving three
(Heudelet at Santarem, Clausel on the Rio Mayor, Loison at Punhete) to
hold the old positions. If Wellington had attacked in force on the 5th,
it seems certain that he must have destroyed these covering forces,
which in their scattered position could not possibly have held their
ground. But the British general, as we shall see, was engaged in a
scheme of his own, and did not at first detect the full meaning of the
French movements.
For Wellington at this moment was busy in developing an encircling
attack on the whole of the French positions, and it was not yet
ready[119]. On February 23rd he had made up his mind to strike the
moment that a large body of reinforcements, already overdue from
England and the Mediterranean, should have arrived. The plan was that
the main army, while holding Reynier in check at Santarem with one or
two divisions, should attack Junot on the Rio Mayor with the bulk of
its force. At the same time Beresford, drawing his corps to the north
of the Tagus by the boat-bridge at Abrantes, was to fall upon Loison at
Punhete, and (as it was hoped) thus distract Ney, whose duty would be
divided between the succouring of Junot and that of the division on the
Zezere. But, even if he turned most of the reserves in the direction of
the Rio Mayor, the long distance would prevent them from arriving in
time. Junot would almost certainly be overwhelmed by superior numbers,
while Reynier was being ‘contained,’ and while Ney’s columns were still
far off.
[119] This plan comes out in full in the diary of Beresford’s
Chief of the Staff. D’Urban writes under the 23rd February: ‘The
Marshal tells me that Lord Wellington means to attack, and his
(Beresford’s) own share is that he must turn and force the French
left, when the reinforcements should arrive. Some of them are
already on their march up from Lisbon. On their arrival Lord
Wellington will attack the French right, on the Rio Mayor, while
Marshal Beresford crosses the Tagus at Abrantes, and attacks the
force on the Zezere at the same time. Orders to inquire how far,
in attacking the corps at Punhete, Amoreira can be turned, and
the heights of Montalvão gained, with consequent advantage of
ground in coming on the enemy upon the Zezere.’ The local reports
were prepared by D’Urban on the 25th. The only allusion to the
plan in the Wellington dispatches is in the last paragraph of the
letter to Lord Liverpool of February 23rd, in which the phrase
occurs, ‘I cannot venture to detach troops [to Estremadura] even
after the reinforcements shall arrive: and if the weather should
hold up a little I must try something else-of greater extent but
more doubtful result.’
Preparations and reconnaissances in view of this great attack began
to be made, but the reinforcements were slow to arrive. Six thousand
men were due, mainly the troops which afterwards formed the 7th
Division and the second British brigade of the 6th. But on March 1
only the _Chasseurs Britanniques_ from Cadiz, and half of the 51st had
yet landed[120]. Of the other expected regiments the bulk turned up
in Lisbon harbour on the 4th-6th March, viz. the 2nd, 85th, 1/36th,
2/52nd, but the light infantry brigade of the King’s German Legion did
not come in till the 21st of the same month. It was undoubtedly the
accidental delay of a few days in the arrival of these seven battalions
that caused Wellington to hold back; if Masséna had postponed his move
for a week more, all would have been in line save the two belated
German battalions, and the attack would have been delivered about the
10th-12th of March.
[120] The _Chasseurs Britanniques_ had landed very early in
February, and a wing of the 51st on the 25th of that month. But
the bulk of the transport fleet from England only was reported
at the Tagus mouth on March 4th, and began to land men next
day--the critical day of Masséna’s retreat. The ships with the
German light brigade had sailed late, and came in even later in
proportion.
Set on the carrying out of his own plan, which could not begin to
work for a few days more, Wellington was evidently not fully prepared
for the suddenness of Masséna’s retreat. On the 4th of March, the day
when Ney’s corps began to file to the rear, he wrote to Beresford, ‘I
think it likely that the enemy is about some move, but have been so
frequently disappointed that it is impossible to be certain. There
is no alteration whatever in their front.’ This was true, for Junot
and Reynier had not moved on a man upon the 4th. On the next--the
critical--day he himself made a survey of Reynier’s lines in front of
Santarem, found them still manned by Heudelet’s division, but thought
that he could detect that the artillery in the French works was less
numerous than on the previous day. There were no howitzers in the
great work across the high road, but only what appeared to be pieces
of small calibre. He could not perceive guns any longer upon the main
heights in front of Santarem; bushes seemed to have been laid to cover
the stations which they had occupied. But the outposts were the same,
and he did not observe any other change on the heights, excepting that
all the troops visible upon them were fully accoutred. He concluded
that no general movement of Reynier’s corps had taken place. ‘It is
probable that baggage and heavy artillery may have been sent off, but
the effective part of the army still remains in position.’ There was no
obvious alteration visible along Junot’s front, where Clausel was that
day holding all the outposts, Solignac having marched back to Pernes.
If Wellington had attacked at once that day, with the troops that were
up in his front line, the Light Division and the 1st Division, in front
of Santarem, while demonstrating with Pack’s Portuguese and the cavalry
brigades along the Rio Mayor to detain Clausel, it is probable that he
might have made great havoc of Heudelet’s division, which was holding a
front too long for its strength, and had no supports, since the rest of
the 2nd Corps was a march to the rear by now. But he was still thinking
of his own plan; the fleet, with the bulk of the expected battalions,
was reported at the mouth of the Tagus, and one regiment had actually
landed. Wherefore he wrote to Beresford, ‘the reinforcements have
arrived, and we shall be able in a few days to attack the enemy, if he
retains this position, or possibly to attack him in any other which he
may take up.’ Meanwhile the rear divisions of the army were ordered to
close in; on the evening of March 5th Cole (4th Division) was brought
up to Cartaxo, while Campbell (6th Division) moved out from the old
lines to Azambuja, which Cole had left. The 3rd Division was ordered up
from Alcoentre to join Pack’s Portuguese on the Rio Mayor. Beresford
was directed to bring the 2nd Division across the Tagus at Abrantes,
and to attack the French on the Zezere (Loison’s division) the moment
that he saw any signs of their being about to move off[121].
[121] Most of these orders will be found in the early (6 a.m.)
dispatch of March 5th to Beresford. The rest are mentioned as
having been ordered to take place on the 5th in the dispatch to
Beresford of the 6th.
But all this was too late: the only chance of destroying Masséna’s
rearguard would have been to have attacked on the morning of the 5th
with the troops that were already on the spot. And this Wellington
would not do, because he thought that Reynier and Junot were still
in position ‘with the effective part of the army.’ On the following
morning it was too late: Heudelet had evacuated Santarem, and Clausel
the line of the Rio Mayor, after dusk; and each having made a long
night-march, the one was at Ponte de Almonda near Golegão, the other
near Torres Novas, before noon on the 6th. Heudelet had blown up the
bridge of Alviella, Clausel that of Pernes, to detain the pursuers. The
enemy had gained a full march upon the British in this direction. On
the other flank Beresford brought the 2nd Division over the Tagus on
the 6th, but finding that Loison had made no movement had not attacked
him, his orders being to fall on only when he saw the enemy break up
from his positions.
On the early morning of the same day Wellington had found that Santarem
was empty and occupied it. The Light Division and Pack were sent
in pursuit of Junot, and reached Pernes: the 1st Division followed
Reynier, and had the head of its column at the broken bridge of the
Alviella by the afternoon. The 4th and 6th Divisions, coming up from
the rear, entered Santarem, while the 3rd Division reached the line
of the Rio Mayor and followed the Light Division. The 5th Division
and Campbell’s Portuguese were still far to the rear. On this day
Wellington made up his mind, from the signs before him, that Masséna
was in full march for Coimbra and the north, and did not intend to
fight a battle[122]. The only puzzling sign was that Loison’s division
still remained stationary on the Zezere. Was it even now possible that
the other corps were going to join him for an attack on Abrantes,
an attempt to cross the Tagus near it, or a retreat into Spain via
the Castello Branco road? This was not likely: for if such had been
Masséna’s plan, Ney would have arrived to join Loison already, and they
would have commenced their movement beyond the Zezere. Wellington,
however, did not feel quite certain as to what was the French scheme
till Loison burnt his boats and bridges on the night of the 6th-7th,
and moved off towards Thomar, in the same direction as the rest of
the French army. It is clear that if Beresford had been ordered to
fall upon Loison in force upon the afternoon of the 6th, he might
have done him much harm, for there lay upon the Zezere only a single
French infantry division and a cavalry brigade, while Beresford had at
Abrantes, beside the garrison, an English and a Portuguese division of
infantry, and as much cavalry at least as Loison possessed.
[122] See Wellington to Beresford, _Dispatches_, vii. p. 344.
On the 7th Ney and Drouet were halted at Leiria to cover the arrival
of the rest of the army. Reynier marched from Golegão to Thomar;
Junot from Torres Novas to Chão de Maçans; Loison was at dawn close
to Thomar, after a night march, leaving his boats and bridges blazing
behind him as a beacon for Beresford’s benefit. It was clear that the
French were all making for the Coimbra roads, and had no designs west
of the Zezere. The English cavalry, following on the heels of both
Reynier’s and Junot’s columns, informed Wellington that the enemy was
apparently about to use both roads towards the Mondego, that by Leiria
and Pombal, and that by Chão de Maçans and Ancião. The British general
expressed some surprise at this, remarking in a letter to Beresford
that the latter road was so bad that he marvelled that everything had
not gone by the infinitely superior Leiria chaussée, the main road to
the north[123]. Meanwhile, of his own troops Beresford had crossed
the Zezere, but did not reach Thomar; Nightingale’s brigade of the
1st Division moved on from the bridge of the Alviella to Atalaya
beyond Golegão, the Light Division from Pernes advanced to Arga and
La Marosa on the Torres Novas-Thomar road. The 4th and 6th Divisions
reached Golegão in the afternoon. But hearing of Ney’s and Drouet’s
concentration at Leiria, and doubtful whether he would not find that
the rest of the enemy was about to take shelter behind them, Wellington
resolved not to push any more troops in the Thomar direction, but to
keep a large mass upon the Santarem-Leiria-Coimbra road. The bulk
of the 1st Division (all save Nightingale’s brigade) and the 3rd
Division were halted at Alcanhede and Pernes, and thither too the 5th
Division and the Portuguese brigades from the rear were directed. It
must be confessed that this was not a very rapid or vigorous pursuit:
Wellington was waiting on the enemy’s movements, rather than forcing
them to take such directions as best suited himself. But it must be
remembered that he had been compelled to advance ere yet his own
preparations were made, four or five days before he had intended to
make his great concentric attack, and two factors were against him.
The first was the eternal food-problem; the divisions had marched
unexpectedly, with such supplies as they had in hand; they were unable
to get anything from the country, which the French had stripped bare
during the last three months. The rations for them were being brought
up from the rear, but if they outmarched them they must starve: hence
there were reasons against hurry. The second cause of delay was that
Wellington wished to have his whole army in hand, if the enemy should
turn and show fight, and the divisions which had started from the
Torres Vedras Lines on the first notice of Masséna’s departure on
the 5th were still far to the rear, viz. the 5th and the Portuguese
battalions which had once been Le Cor’s and was now under Campbell.
The new 7th Division, which had just landed, had not yet commenced its
march from Lisbon.
[123] Wellington to Beresford, _Dispatches_, vii. p. 346.
The aspect of the region through which the army was marching was
piteous in the extreme. Santarem town was a wreck, ‘the houses torn and
dilapidated, the streets strewn with household furniture half-burnt
and destroyed, many streets quite impassable with filth and rubbish,
with an occasional man, horse, or donkey rotting, and corrupting
the air with pestilential vapours: a few miserable inhabitants like
living skeletons[124].’ The country-side was worse--cottages burnt
and unroofed, and corpses of murdered peasants, some fresh, some mere
heaps of bones, lying in every ravine. The survivors were just emerging
from woods or caverns to cut up the French sick and stragglers. A
single quotation may suffice to give some idea of the wayside sights
of this distressing march. It comes from a 3rd Division chronicler,
who is describing the village of Porto de Mos, south of Leiria: ‘When
we entered the place, there was a large convent fronting us, which, as
well as many of the houses, had been set on fire by the French. I never
before witnessed such destruction: floors torn up, beds cut in pieces,
their contents thrown about intermixed with kitchen utensils, broken
mirrors, china, &c. There was a large fire in the chapel, on which had
been heaped broken pieces of the altar, wooden images, picture frames,
and the ornamental woodwork of the organ. Searching for a clean place
to put down bags of biscuit, we found a door leading to a chamber apart
from the chapel. It was quite dark, so I took up a burning piece of
wood to inspect it. It was full of half-consumed human bodies, some
lying, others kneeling or leaning against the walls. The floor was
covered with ashes, in many places still red-hot. Such an appalling
sight I have never witnessed. Of those who had sunk on the floor
nothing remained but bones: those who were in a kneeling or standing
posture were only partially consumed. The expression of their scorched
faces was horrible beyond description. In a bag lying at the upper
end of the apartment was the dead body of a young child, who had been
strangled: the cord used was still tight about its little neck[125].’
[124] Memoirs of George Simmons of the 95th, p. 137.
[125] From the Memoirs of Donaldson of the 94th, p. 104. Passing
through Porto de Mos on September 29, 1910, I thought that I
would try to discover whether any memory of this horrid tragedy
survived. The sacristan, of whom I made inquiries, at once took
me to a ruined chamber to the left of the church, and told
me that 200 people had been burned there in the ‘time of the
French.’ A new sacristy had been built to replace it in 1814, the
chamber being held accursed.
It was on the morning that followed his arrival at Torres Novas (March
8th) that Wellington, encouraged by the reports of his cavalry scouts,
to the effect that the French were marching day and night, and showed
no wish to fight, issued the orders already alluded to in a previous
chapter, which bade Beresford turn back the 2nd Division, and march
with it and the 4th to the relief of Badajoz[126]. The report of
Menacho’s death and of the rapid advance of the French siege-works had
just reached him. Beresford was to take with him Hamilton’s Portuguese
division, which had not yet passed the Tagus, and De Grey’s cavalry
brigade. The boat-bridge at Abrantes was floated down to Tancos near
Punhete, in order to save the 2nd and 4th Divisions some miles of march
in their journey to the Alemtejo. These troops turned back, and were
nearing Tancos on the following day, when they received orders to halt.
The French, so the advanced cavalry reported, after marching hitherto
day and night, had come to a stand at Pombal, north of Leiria, where
Ney, Junot, and Drouet were now all massed. Though Reynier was said
to have taken another road, that by Espinhal, Wellington was not sure
that Masséna did not intend to fight, and if so, he wished to have the
4th Division with him, and De Grey’s heavy dragoons. ‘In this case it
is desirable,’ he writes, ‘that I should be a little stronger, and as
Badajoz is not yet pressed ... I have sent to Cole to desire that his
division and the dragoons march to-morrow for Cacharia. I shall then
be as strong as the enemy, or very nearly.’ The 2nd Division was to
halt and wait further orders. It was not till the 12th that it was let
loose, and told to resume its march to the Alemtejo: Cole and De Grey
were not sent back from the main army till the 16th. Meanwhile Badajoz,
as we have already seen, fell by Imaz’s pusillanimity on March 10--a
date too early for Beresford to have saved it, even if he had continued
the march originally prescribed to him on the 8th of that month.
[126] See Chapter II above, p. 60, and Wellington, _Dispatches_,
vii. 350-1.
Before Wellington sent on their southward journey the three divisions
which were to form the future Army of Estremadura, stirring events had
begun to occur on the Leiria-Coimbra road, and the general course of
Masséna’s retreat had already been settled.
SECTION XXIII: CHAPTER IV
EVENTS IN THE SOUTH OF SPAIN. THE BATTLE OF BARROSA
JANUARY-MARCH 1811
In the second chapter of this volume we dealt with Soult’s expedition
to Estremadura and its results, but had to defer for later
consideration the events which brought him back in haste to Andalusia
the moment that Badajoz had fallen (March 12th). These must now be
explained.
When his 20,000 men, collected from all the three corps which formed
the Army of the South, set out on the last day of the old year 1810,
Soult left behind him three problems, each of which (as he was well
aware) might assume a dangerous aspect at any moment. We have already
indicated their character[127]. Would Victor, with 19,000 men left
to him for the blockade of Cadiz, be able to hold with security the
immense semicircle of lines and batteries which threatened the island
stronghold of the Cortes? Would the provisional garrison which had been
patched up for Seville prove strong enough to defend that capital and
its arsenals against any possible attack of roving Spanish detachments,
from the mountains of the west and south? Would Sebastiani and the
4th Corps be able to beat back any attempt by the Army of Murcia to
trespass upon the limits of the broad and rugged province of Granada?
We may add that it was conceivable that all these three problems might
demand a simultaneous solution. For if all the Spanish forces had been
guided by a single capable brain, nothing would have been more obvious
to conceive than a plan for setting them all to work at once. If a
sortie from Cadiz were taken in hand, it would have the best chance of
success supposing that Sebastiani were to be distracted by an invasion
of Granada, and Seville threatened by any force that could be collected
in the Condado de Niebla, or the mountains above Ronda.
[127] See pp. 57-8 above.
Soult, as Napoleon pointed out to him two months later[128], had
committed a considerable fault by not putting all the divisions left
behind in Andalusia under a single commander, responsible for all parts
of the kingdom alike. Victor was given no authority over Sebastiani,
nor even over Daricau, who had been left as governor of Seville, or
Godinot, whose depleted division occupied the province of Cordova.
Napoleon, always suspicious of Soult, accused him of having neglected
this precaution because he was jealous of Victor, and would not make
him as great as himself[129]. Whether this was so or not, it is at any
rate clear that the position was made much more dangerous by the fact
that each of the three problems named above would be presented to a
different commander, who would be prone to think of his own troubles
alone, and to neglect those of his colleagues. If all three dangers
became threatening at the same moment, each general would regard his
own as the most important, and bestow comparatively little care on
those which menaced the others. As a matter of fact, Victor was almost
destroyed, because Sebastiani did not come to his help, when the sally
from Cadiz took place early in March; and Seville was in serious danger
a few days later, because there was no one who could order Godinot to
march to its aid from Cordova without delay.
[128] _Correspondance_, no. 17,531. ‘Le siège de Cadix n’aurait
pas couru les chances qu’il vient de courir si, en partant pour
l’Estrémadure, le duc de Dalmatie avait mis le corps du général
Sebastiani et la division Godinot sous les ordres du Maréchal duc
de Bellune [Victor] ... il aurait alors eu trois fois plus de
troupes qu’il n’en aurait fallu.’
[129] ‘Soult vient de me faire une grande sottise: il aurait
dû laisser à Victor le commandement de toutes les troupes
d’Andalousie. Il ne l’a pas fait, de peur que Victor ne fût
aussi grand que lui.’ Foy’s interview with Napoleon in his _Vie
Militaire_, p. 140.
Soult was fully aware of all the possible perils of his absence.
Apparently he thought Sebastiani was in the greater danger, for he
requisitioned only a few cavalry and artillery from the 4th Corps,
and left it practically intact to defend the province of Granada
against the Army of Murcia. As to Seville, he considered that it could
only be endangered by Ballasteros, and for that reason did his best
to destroy that general’s division, by causing Gazan to hunt it as
far as the borders of Portugal--a diversion which nearly wrecked the
Estremaduran expedition for lack of infantry[130]. When Gazan had
driven Ballasteros over the Guadiana, after the action of Castillejos
(January 25), the Marshal thought that the Spaniard was out of the
game, and no longer in a position to do harm--in which he erred, for
this irrepressible enemy was back in Andalusia within a few weeks, and
was actually threatening Seville early in March.
[130] See above, p. 33.
But the greatest danger was really on the side of Cadiz, where Victor,
deprived of nearly all his cavalry and one regiment of infantry for the
Estremaduran expedition, had also to furnish outlying detachments--a
garrison for Xeres and the column with which General Remond was
operating in the Condado de Niebla, far to the west[131]. He had only
19,000 men left for the defence of the Lines, of which a considerable
proportion consisted of artillery, sappers, and marine troops, needed
for the siege but useless for a fight in the open, if the enemy should
make a sally by sea against his rear. The Duke of Belluno was anxious,
and rightly so: for the nearest possible succours were Sebastiani’s
troops in Granada and Malaga, many marches away, while the garrison of
Cadiz was very strong, and indeed outnumbered his own force. At the
beginning of February it comprised, including the urban militia, nearly
20,000 Spanish troops; Copons had just been withdrawn from the west to
join it. There was also an Anglo-Portuguese division. General Graham
had been left a considerable force, even after Wellington withdrew
certain regiments to join in the defence of the Lines of Torres Vedras.
He had two composite battalions of the Guards, the 2/47th, 2/67th,
2/87th, a half battalion of the 2/95th, the two battalions of the 20th
Portuguese, and a provisional battalion of German recruits[132], as
also two squadrons of the 2nd Hussars of the King’s German Legion, and
two field batteries. The whole amounted to between 5,000 and 6,000
men. It is curious to note that Napoleon, in the dispatch by which he
spurred Soult on to his Estremaduran expedition, assured him ‘that
there had never been more than three English regiments at Cadiz,
and that they had all gone to Lisbon,’ so that the Isle of Leon and
city were only defended by ‘ten thousand unhappy Spaniards without
resolution or power to resist[133].’ When the Emperor’s directions were
based upon information so utterly incorrect as this, it was hard for
his generals to satisfy him!
[131] See above, p. 31.
[132] Whom Wellington (in his dispatch to Graham of December 31)
calls ‘the German deserters’--they having been mainly men who had
absconded from the French armies.
[133] _Correspondance_, no. 17,131.
Within a few days of the withdrawal of the detachment taken by Soult
from Victor, the news came to Cadiz that the 1st Corps had been
weakened: and when the destination of the expedition was known, it
seemed probable that no reserves had been left at Seville on which the
besieging force could count. The idea of an attack on Victor was at
once broached by the Regency, and accepted by General Graham; after
some discussion, it was considered best not to assail the lines by a
disembarkation from the Isle of Leon, but to land as large a force as
could be spared in the rear of the enemy, at Tarifa, Algesiras, or some
other point of Southern Andalusia which was in the hands of the Allies.
Such a movement, if properly conducted, would compel Victor to draw
backward, in order to hold off the Allies from the Lines. He would have
to fight at some distance inland, leaving a minimum garrison to protect
his forts and batteries, and it was proposed that the fleet and the
troops left in Cadiz should fall upon them during his enforced absence.
The execution of this plan was deferred for some weeks, partly
because of the difficulty of providing transport by sea for a large
expeditionary force, partly because Gazan was unexpectedly drawn
back into Andalusia by Ballasteros’s division, and was at the end
of January in a position from which he might easily have reinforced
Victor. When he had gone off to Estremadura, in the wake of Soult,
the problem became simpler. After drawing back Copons’s division from
the Condado de Niebla to Cadiz (as has already been mentioned), the
Regency found themselves able to provide 8,000 men for embarkation,
while leaving 7,000 regulars and the urban militia to hold Cadiz.
Graham was ready to join in, with all his troops save the battalion
companies of the 2/47th and the 20th Portuguese, and the doubtfully
effective German battalion, which were to remain behind, for he did
not wish to withdraw the whole British force from Cadiz at once. But
he procured the aid of an almost equivalent number of bayonets from
an external source: he wrote to General Campbell, commanding at
Gibraltar, begging him to spare reinforcements from the garrison of
that fortress and of the minor stronghold of Tarifa, at the extreme
southern point of Europe, which was then maintained as a sort of
dependency of Gibraltar. Campbell eagerly consented to take part in the
plan and promised to lend 1,000 infantry. This assistance would bring
up the British contingent to 5,000 men. The Spaniards were also to
collect some small reinforcements: there was an irregular force under
General Beguines operating in the Ronda mountains, and basing itself on
Gibraltar. It was ordered to join the expedition when it should come
to land, and (as we shall see) actually did so, with a force of three
battalions or 1,600 men. The total of the troops whom it was proposed
to collect amounted, therefore, to 9,600 Spaniards and 5,000 British,
a force almost equal in numbers to Victor’s depleted corps. But it was
clear that the Marshal would have to leave some sort of a garrison in
the Lines before Cadiz, and that the Allies would have a numerical
superiority, if they could force on a fight at a distance from the sea
and the French base.
One cardinal mistake was made in planning the expedition. Its command
was to be entrusted to General Manuel La Peña, then the senior officer
in Cadiz, a man with a talent for plausible talking and diplomacy, but
one who had already shown himself a selfish colleague and a disloyal
subordinate. This was the same man who in 1808, nearly three years
back, had sacrificed his chief Castaños at the disastrous battle
of Tudela[134], by refusing to march to the sound of the guns, and
securing a safe retreat for himself and his 10,000 men, while the
main army was being crushed, only four miles away, by Marshal Lannes.
Though not personally a coward, he was a shirker of responsibilities,
and incapable of a swift and heroic decision. He was ambitious enough
to aspire to and intrigue for a post of importance, but collapsed when
it became necessary to discharge its duties. He treated Graham in 1811
precisely as he had treated Castaños in 1808, and it was not his fault
that the sally from Cadiz failed to end in a disaster[135]. The English
lieutenant-general had discretionary authority from his Government to
refuse to act in any joint expedition of which he was not given the
command. But anxious to bring matters to a head, and deceived by La
Peña’s mild plausibility, he consented to take the second place, on the
ground that the Spaniard contributed the larger body of troops to the
enterprise.
[134] See vol. i. pp. 442-3.
[135] Schepeler, the Prussian officer in Spanish service, whose
notes on all the Cadiz affairs are so important, owing to his
having served through them under Blake and La Peña, says that the
latter was generally allowed to be incompetent--he was a regular
old woman. He tells an illustrative anecdote, of a guerrillero
chief who came to concert a bold plan with the general, and went
away at once, saying, ‘Can I hope to get anything out of an
officer who, as I find, is called “Donna Manuela” by every one
about him?’ Schepeler, _Geschichte der spanischen Monarchie_, i.
134. La Peña had kept his place, despite of his Tudela fiasco,
through family and _salon_ intrigues--he is said to have been the
‘tame cat’ of certain great ladies of the patriotic party.
If Graham himself had headed the united force, it is certain that the
siege of Cadiz would have been raised for the moment, though what
would have followed that success no man can say, for it would have
brought about such a convulsion in Andalusia, and such a concentration
of the French troops, that the whole of the conditions of the war in
the south would have been altered. Graham had all the qualities which
La Peña lacked--indomitable resolution, swift decision, a good eye
for topography, the power of inspiring enthusiastic confidence in his
troops. He was no mere professional soldier, but a crusader with a
mission; indeed his personal history is one of extraordinary interest.
When the French Revolution broke out he was a civilian of mature years,
a Whig Member of Parliament, aged forty-four, mainly known as a great
sportsman[136] and a bold cross-country rider. Yet certainly if the
war of 1793 had not come to pass, he would only be remembered now as
the husband of that beautiful Mrs. Graham whose portrait is one of
Gainsborough’s best-known masterpieces.
[136] He played in the first recorded cricket match in Scotland
in 1785.
[Illustration: _Lieutenant-General Thomas Graham_]
Driven to the Riviera in 1792 by the failing health of his wife, who
died at Hyères, Graham was an eye-witness of the outbreak of violence
and blind rage in France which followed Brunswick’s invasion. He
himself was arrested--his wife’s coffin was torn open by a mob which
insisted that he was smuggling ‘arms for aristocrats’ therein. He
narrowly escaped with his life, and returned to England convinced
that the French had become a nation of wild beasts, _hostes humani
generis_. ‘I had once deprecated,’ he wrote at the time, ‘the hostile
interference of Britain in the internal affairs of France, but what I
have seen in my journey through that country makes me consider that
war with her has become just and necessary in self-defence of our
constitution[137].’ Widowed and childless, he thought it his duty to go
to the front at once, despite of his forty-four years and his lack of
military training. He devoted all his available funds to the raising,
in his own county, of the 90th Foot, the ‘Perthshire volunteers,’ of
which he became the honorary colonel. He could not take command of the
corps, because he had no substantive military rank, but he could not
keep at home. He went out to the Mediterranean as a sort of volunteer
aide-de-camp to Lord Mulgrave, and afterwards, being found useful owing
to his gift of languages--he knew not only Italian but German, a rare
accomplishment in those days--he was entrusted with a special mission
to the Austrian army of Italy. He served through all the disasters of
Beaulieu and Würmser, starved in Mantua, and froze in the Tyrolese Alps.
[137] See his diary, quoted in Delavoye’s _Life of Lord
Lynedoch_, p. 32.
From that time onward we find him wherever there was fighting against
the French to be done--in Sicily, Minorca, Malta, Egypt, Portugal.
So great were his services that, contrary to all War Office rules,
his honorary colonelship was changed to a regular commission on the
staff, and in 1808-9 he served first as the British attaché with
Castaños’s army, and later as one of Sir John Moore’s aides-de-camp. In
reward for brilliant service in the Corunna campaign he was given in
1810 the command of the British force at Cadiz. And so it came about
that this Whig Member of Parliament, who had commenced soldiering at
forty-four (like Oliver Cromwell and Julius Caesar), was at sixty-two
leading a British division in the field. He had an iron frame[138],
and his spirit was as firm as his body--the crusade had to be fought
out to the end, though the enemy was now the Corsican Tyrant, not the
Atheist Republic against which he had first drawn his sword. It was
in keeping with all his previous career that he consented to take
the second place in the Tarifa expedition; to get the army started
was essential--his personal position counted for nothing with him.
Before a month was out he had good reason to regret that he had been so
self-denying.
[138] Graham survived Barrosa for thirty years, lived to be
ninety-six, and after Waterloo founded the United Service Club,
as a place of rendezvous for his old Peninsular comrades, who
looked upon him as a kind of father.
After many tiresome delays[139] the English contingent sailed from
Cadiz on February 21st, but met with such fierce west winds, when it
neared Cape Trafalgar, that the convoy could not make the difficult
harbour of Tarifa, and was blown past it into Gibraltar Bay, where
Graham landed on the 23rd at Algesiras. Here he found waiting for him
a ‘flank battalion’ of 536 bayonets, which General Campbell had made
up for him out of the six flank companies of the 1/9th, 1/28th, and
2/82nd. From Algesiras the troops marched on the 24th to Tarifa, where
they picked up another reinforcement provided by Campbell, the eight
battalion companies of the 1/28th, which had been doing garrison duty
in that little fortress--460 men in all. Having now just 5,196 men,
Graham divided the infantry into two brigades. The first under General
Dilkes numbered 1,900 bayonets: it was composed of the two composite
battalions of the Guards, together with the flank battalion from
Gibraltar and two companies of the 95th Rifles. The second brigade,
under Colonel Wheatley, had 2,633 bayonets, and consisted of the
1/28th, 2/67th, 2/87th, and another ‘flank battalion’ under Colonel
Barnard, composed of the two light companies of the 20th Portuguese
(the only troops of that nation which served in the expedition), those
of the 2/47th, with four more companies of the 95th Rifles. There were
only 206 cavalry--two squadrons of the 2nd Hussars of the King’s German
Legion--and ten guns under Major Duncan.
[139] The delays in the start caused an unexpected conjunction
in the mountains of the south. Beguines and his roving brigade,
warned to be ready to join in the campaign by the 23rd, came
down from the Ronda mountains in search of the army, advanced
as far as Medina Sidonia, and skirmished there with Victor’s
flank guard, two battalions under General Cassagne, which were
always kept watching the mountains (March 25). Beaten off,
Beguines retired to his usual haunts, and waited for signs of the
expedition. His premature attack--premature through no fault of
his own--called Victor’s attention to his rear, and caused him
to fortify Medina Sidonia, and to reinforce Cassagne with three
battalions and a cavalry regiment.
The Spanish contingent had sailed three days after Graham, had met
with the same rough weather, and had been much beaten about. But the
troops began to arrive at Tarifa on the 26th, and were all ashore on
the 27th. La Peña assumed command, was all politeness, and made over to
Graham two unbrigaded battalions of his own, to bring up the force of
the two small British brigades to a higher figure[140]. The rest of his
troops were organized in two divisions under Lardizabal and the Prince
of Anglona, the first five, the second six battalions strong[141]; he
had brought fourteen guns, and four squadrons of horse under an English
colonel in the Spanish service, Samuel Whittingham, an officer who did
not add to his laurels during this expedition.
[140] These battalions were, I believe, Ciudad Real and 4th
Walloon Guards.
[141] As the names of the Spanish battalions engaged in this
expedition have never before been collected, it may be worth
while to mention here that they were--Lardizabal’s division:
Campomayor, Carmona, Murcia (2 batts.), Canarias; Anglona’s
division: Africa (2 batts.), Sigüenza, Cantabria (2 batts.),
Voluntaries de Valencia.
On arriving at the bridge of Facinas and the village of Bolonia, ten
miles outside Tarifa, La Peña had to make up his mind whether he would
march against the rear of the French lines before Cadiz by the track
nearer to the coast, which passes through Vejer de la Frontera, Conil,
and Chiclana, or by the inland road through the mountains, which runs
past Casas Viejas to Medina Sidonia. The two roads at their bifurcation
are separated by the long lagoon of La Janda, a very shallow sheet of
water, seven miles long, which nearly dries up in summer, but was at
this moment full to overflowing from spring rains[142]. To take the
inland route across the mountains was by far the better course. The
road was not good, but if the Allies could reach Medina Sidonia with
their army intact, Victor would be forced to come out and attack
them, at a great distance from his Lines. For it would be practically
impossible for the Marshal to allow La Peña and Graham to establish
themselves at Medina, in the rear of his head quarters, and backed by
the Sierra de Jerez, from whose skirts they could send out as many
detachments as they pleased, to cut the communication between Seville
and the Lines. There was little danger of being taken in the rear by
troops sent by the distant Sebastiani, whose nearest forces were at
Marbella, eighty miles away, and whose attention was at this moment
fully taken up by the local guerrilleros, who had been turned loose on
him. Indeed, Sebastiani for some time thought that the expedition was
directed against himself, and was preparing to concentrate and take
the defensive. The only drawbacks to the Medina Sidonia route were
there would be no chance of communicating along it with the garrison of
Cadiz, and that the question of provisions might grow serious if the
campaign were protracted, for the region was barren and the army ill
provided with transport. But a few days would settle the affair--Victor
would be compelled to come out at once and fight, with every man that
he could bring, and while he was engaged at Medina, there would be
nothing to prevent the 7,000 Spaniards in Cadiz from crossing the
harbour and destroying the ill-garrisoned Lines. This in itself, even
if the Allies failed to hold back the Marshal, would have an immense
effect all over Andalusia[143].
[142] I do not know these roads, nor the field of Barrosa, but
Colonel Churcher, of the Royal Irish Fusiliers, who is well
acquainted with them, tells me that the track (five miles inland
from the coast) marked on the British staff map of 1810, from
Bolonia to Vejer, is no proper road at all, and unfit for wheeled
traffic to this day; while the Tarifa-Medina Sidonia road is bad,
but can carry vehicles. He tells me that he has actually crossed
the Laguna de la Janda at its centre in dry weather, so shallow
does it become.
[143] There is a good note on the pros and cons of the two routes
in Schepeler, i. 161.
La Peña originally intended to take the right-hand road, and ordered
Beguines, who was now in the high hills to the east, about Ximena,
to join him with his roving brigade at Casas Viejas. The column left
Facinas late in the evening, for La Peña had a great and misplaced
belief in night marches, by which he always hoped to gain time on the
enemy, since his moves could not be discovered or reported till the
next morning. He overlooked the corresponding disadvantage of the
extreme slowness of progress over bad roads in rugged country, the
very real danger that the troops (or some of them) might miss their
way in the dark, and the inevitable fatigue to the men from losing
their proper hours of sleep. Graham’s laconic diary shows how this
worked out. ‘Marched in the evening, very tedious from filing across
water (the stream which fills the head of the lagoon of La Janda) and
other difficulties. Misled by the guides on quitting the Cortigo de la
Janda (farm at the head of the lagoon): the counter-march made a most
fatiguing night.... It was twelve noon before the troops halted, having
been nineteen hours under arms.’
The troops of Lardizabal, at the head of the column, had reached Casas
Viejas in the morning, but the English division in the rear of the army
had got no further than the northern end of the lagoon, some thirteen
miles from their starting-place at Puente de Facinas. There was a
violent east wind, the night had been very cold, and the men were much
fatigued.
Lardizabal on reaching Casas Viejas had found the convent, which
was the only solid building there, occupied by a French post, two
companies sent out by General Cassagne from Medina Sidonia to watch the
high-road. Thinking at first that he was only about to be worried by
guerrilleros, the French captain shut himself up behind his barricades,
instead of retreating at once. When he found out his mistake, and saw
that a whole army was about him, it was too late to get off without
loss. La Peña ordered that the convent should be left alone, as he did
not wish to waste time in battering and storming it. The whole of his
troops had come up, including the roving force of 1,600 men from the
hills under Beguines, when the French unwisely made a bolt eastward,
in the hope of escaping. The little column was pursued and cut up by a
squadron of Busche’s German Hussars, many being killed and captured.
From the prisoners and Beguines’s scouts La Peña learnt that Medina
Sidonia was (contrary to his expectation) held by a serious force of
French--Cassagne’s detachment being now composed of five battalions of
infantry, a battery, and a cavalry regiment, about 3,000 men. The walls
had been repaired, it was said, and the place was in a state of defence.
The Spanish general should have rejoiced to learn that Victor had sent
an appreciable part of his army so far afield--fifteen miles from
Chiclana--and by advancing he could have forced the Marshal to come to
this distance from his lines in order to support Cassagne. A battle
would no doubt have followed--but it was for a battle that the army
had sailed to Tarifa. And by drawing Victor’s whole fighting force so
far away from Cadiz, La Peña would have given a unique opportunity to
the garrison to come out and destroy the siege-works. Meanwhile, if the
French lost the battle they would be annihilated, being off their line
of retreat; if they won it, they would return to find the greater part
of the siege-works destroyed.
But this was not the line of thought that guided La Peña; he was, as
his previous record showed, a shirker of responsibilities, and the
prospect of a battle on the morrow, or the day after, seems to have
paralysed him. To every one’s surprise he gave orders that the army,
waiting till dusk had come on, should leave the Medina road, and march
across country by a bad bridle-path to Vejer, on the other route from
Tarifa to Cadiz. Graham protested against a second night march, after
the experience of the first, and rightly, for news came in ere night
that the road along the north side of the Barbate river, which La Peña
had intended to use, was absolutely under water from inundations. La
Peña therefore consented to wait till the next morning (March 3rd)
and to use another country road, that between the north end of the La
Janda lagoon and the river into which it falls. The army marched at 8
o’clock--Lardizabal as before in front, the English division in the
rear. But on reaching the intended crossing-place, it was found that
this road, like that north of the river, was flooded, the lagoon having
overflowed at its northern end, and joined itself in one shallow sheet
of water to the Barbate. Graham, on arriving at the passage, found the
Spaniards halted at the edge of the flood, and apparently at a nonplus.
The energetic old man took the business out of La Peña’s hands--he and
his staff rode into the water, and sought personally for the track of
the submerged causeway, which they fortunately found to be nowhere more
than three feet under the surface of the flood. He placed men along the
track at intervals, to guide those who should follow, and sat on his
horse in the middle of the ford encouraging the troops as they marched
past him. ‘I set the example of going into the water,’ he remarks in
his diary, ‘which was followed by Lacy, the Prince of Anglona, and
others. The passage lasted three hours, and would have taken double
that time but for the exertions made to force the men to keep the
files connected.’ It was 12 o’clock at night before the army reached
Vejer--having taken fifteen hours to cover ten miles, owing to the
delays at the inundation. Every one was wet through and much fatigued,
for the weather was still very cold.
It remained to be seen what the enemy would make of this move; a
squadron of French dragoons had been found in Vejer by the advanced
guard, and driven out, so that it was certain that Victor would get
prompt news that at any rate some part of the allied army had now
appeared on the western road. The Marshal, as a matter of fact, was
puzzled. On the night of the 2nd he had heard from Cassagne that the
enemy was in force on the Medina Sidonia road, and had cut up the
post at Casas Viejas. He accordingly sent orders to Cassagne to bid
him stand firm, and promised to support him with his whole disposable
force. But before dawn on the 4th he got news, from the dragoons
expelled from Vejer, that there was a heavy force on the western road.
Had La Peña transferred himself from one route to another, or were the
Allies operating in two columns? Cassagne reported a little later that
the column opposed to him had advanced no further, but that there were
still Spanish troops on the Casas Viejas road; and this was true, for
La Peña had left a battalion and some guerrilla horse at that place, to
give him news of Cassagne, if the latter should move.
But there was also the garrison of Cadiz to be watched, and it was
showing signs of activity. On the night of the 2nd-3rd, when the field
army had been lying at Casas Viejas, General Zayas had, in accordance
with the scheme of times left with him, thrown his bridge of boats
across the Santi Petri creek, and passed a battalion across it, which
entrenched itself on the mud-flat, facing the French works that cut off
the peninsula of the Bermeja. They threw up a strong _tête-du-pont_,
undisturbed, being under the protection of the heavy guns in the castle
of Santi Petri, and other batteries on the Isle of Leon. The move could
only mean that the garrison of Cadiz intended to come out. Accordingly
Victor resolved to stop its egress; waiting for the dusk on the night
of the 3rd-4th, he sent six companies of picked _voltigeurs_ to storm
the _tête-du-pont_. This they accomplished, the heavy guns failing to
stop them in the dusk: the Spanish battalion in the work (Ordenes
Militares) was nearly annihilated, losing 13 officers and 300 men
killed or taken. But the bridge itself was saved by the prompt sinking
of two of its boats, and was hastily floated back to the island, where
Zayas laid it up for further use. He had been much chagrined at seeing
and hearing nothing of allied forces behind the French, which he had
been told to look for on March 3rd[144].
[144] According to Schepeler La Peña had sent an officer out from
Tarifa in a fishing-boat on the 1st March, to let the garrison
of Cadiz know that he might not keep his time accurately; this
messenger was stopped at sea by an English brig, and since he was
disguised and had no English pass, he was detained some time as a
suspicious character, and only reached Cadiz on the 4th.
Putting together the movement of Zayas, and the fact that some at least
of the allied army was now on the Vejer road, the Marshal came to the
correct conclusion that the army in the field was intending to get
into communication with Cadiz and its garrison. Accordingly he made a
new plan to suit this hypothesis: of his three divisions one, that of
Villatte, was to block the neck of the peninsula along which the track
from Vejer and Conil leads to the Santi Petri creek and the Isle of
Leon. The other two, concentrated at Chiclana, were to wait till the
allied force had found itself blocked in front by Villatte, and then to
fall upon its flank, in the space of three miles that lies between the
hill of Barrosa and the position where Villatte had been posted. This
plan would place the intercepting division in obvious danger, since,
while attacked in front by the head of the allied army, it might find
Zayas attempting once more to lay his bridge, and to take it in the
rear. Such a movement by the garrison could not be stopped, because
the end of the peninsula, by the bridge-place, was under the guns of
several heavy batteries. But Victor directed Villatte not to fight to
the last, but to be contented with holding the Allies in check long
enough to enable the main body to fall on their flank. The sound of his
guns would be the signal for the two striking divisions to move out
from the wood of Chiclana, and dash at the long column whose head would
be engaged with Villatte, while its tail would still be coming along
the coast many miles to the rear. For 14,000 men had only the single
line of communication along which to move.
[Illustration: THE BARROSA CAMPAIGN]
Meanwhile Cassagne, at Medina Sidonia, was sent orders to find out
exactly what was in front of him, and if there was no solid force, to
march to join the main body on the morning of the 5th. He must have
received the order to do so somewhere in the afternoon of the 4th.