THE PENINSULAR ARMY: (_b_) ITS TRAINING--1808-11
With the year 1808 began the great struggle in the Peninsula, which,
directly and indirectly, led to the long peace. Its immediate cause was
the seizure by Napoleon of the Iberian Peninsula, the establishment
on the Spanish throne of his brother Joseph, and then the determined
rising of the people against this uncalled-for foreign usurpation.
This practically gave us a cause for interference, and for again
joining issue with our ancient enemy. We were rarely so well prepared.
We had under arms about 300,000 men, with 80,000 in India, 108,380
militia, and 200,000 volunteers. An army, not large, for it numbered
but 30,000 men in all, but of excellent material, was equipped and
placed under the command of Sir Hew Dalrymple, with Burrard as second
in command, and the two divisional leaders were Sir Arthur Wellesley
and Sir John Moore. The force comprised the 3rd, 18th, and 20th, with,
later on, the 10th and 15th Light Dragoons. The line regiments were
the 2nd, 4th, 5th, 6th, the 1-9th, 2-20th, 1-28th, 1-29th, 32nd, 36th,
38th, 40th, 43rd, 45th, 52nd, 60th, 71st, 79th, 82nd, 91st, 92nd,
97th, with some light battalions, the King’s German Legion, and a full
proportion of guns.
It is somewhat difficult to group the operations that continued from
this date to 1814; but it may be convenient to deal with them generally
in two groups. 1. From Roliça and Vimiera to Torres Vedras. 2. From
Portugal to France, or from Busaco to Toulouse.
A glance at the map will show that there are only two good roads by
which Spain can be approached from France. The western pass is the
Bidassoa, by which the Bayonne road reaches Madrid; the eastern, that
of De Pertus, carrying the Perpignan road by Saragossa to Madrid.
Furthermore, the great central plateau is traversed by a series of
more or less parallel mountain ridges running east and west; so that
while movement laterally is comparatively easy, that from north to
south is difficult. Such was the terrain which was to see so much hard
fighting; a land held by a keenly patriotic and high-spirited people,
possessed of great tenacity of purpose, and especially qualified for
that guerilla warfare for which such a land was peculiarly suitable.
Throughout, the contest, as far as the French and their immediate
opponents, the Spanish and Portuguese, are concerned, was accompanied
by circumstances of the greatest barbarity. French orders to shoot
patriots and destroy villages in which risings against the foreign
rule had occurred, tended largely to the formation of those bands of
guerillas and partisans, in the minds of every member of which was
but one thought--revenge. Not unfrequently these bands degenerated
from patriotic _francs-tireurs_ into mere hordes of banditti, a terror
indiscriminately to the armies of both the combatants and the civil
population.
This, then, broadly speaking, was the state of affairs when Great
Britain determined on siding actively with the enemies of France, and
up to this time, at least, matters had not improved, as the hostilities
became more and more prolonged. One decisive success only, that of the
defeat and capitulation of Dupont at Baylen, had hitherto attended the
Spanish arm, and at this battle England was represented by one English
officer, Captain Whittingham, as military attaché.
The first of the groups into which the whole campaign may, for
convenience, be divided, practically resulted in the deliverance of
Portugal. The first division under Wellesley landed at the mouth of the
Mondego, and the first skirmish at Obidos resulted in the retirement of
the French advanced troops, and then Laborde was defeated at Roliça, a
victory which was all the more important as being the first success
that had been gained by the British army in Europe since the campaign
in Egypt and the affair of Copenhagen. In it the 5th, 6th, 9th,
29th, 32nd, 36th, 38th, 40th, 45th, 60th, 71st, 82nd, 91st, and the
newly-formed Rifle Brigade took a distinguished part. But instead of
rapidly following up the success gained, Burrard, much to Wellesley’s
disgust, decided on waiting till the second division under Moore,
which had reached Mondego Bay, should have joined the headquarters of
the army. But Junot, who commanded in chief the armies in Portugal,
anticipated this by advancing against the first division, which was in
position on the Vimiera heights near the Maceira River, and somewhat
inferior in strength to the assailant.
The attack was delivered with the greatest boldness, but checked by
fire, and especially by the Shrapnell shells, which were first used
here, and then by the determined charges of the 50th (the “Blind
Half Hundred,” owing to the prevalence of ophthalmia in the regiment
in 1801, or the “Dirty Half Hundred,” from the men smearing their
faces with their black cuffs), the 43rd and the 71st (then known from
the number of Lowland Scotsmen in their ranks as the “Glasgow Light
Infantry”) the French fell back beaten. One instance of bravery, worth
recording here, is that of a piper of the 71st, who, though his thigh
was shattered by a musket shot, played on bravely, sitting on his
knapsack, exclaiming, “Deil hae me, lads, if ye shall want music!”
Again, owing to Burrard’s want of dash, the final counter attack was
checked, and the French withdrew in fair order; but though Crawford’s
brigade had hardly been engaged, and a vigorous pursuit was rightly
urged by Wellesley, Dalrymple again determined to await the arrival
of Moore, and so the chance was lost. For this battle the regiments
already mentioned as being engaged at Roliça, as well as the 2nd, 20th,
43rd, 50th, and 52nd, bear the name of Vimiera on their colours.
But though the English army thus delayed, Junot thought the game was
up. He entered into negotiations for the abandonment of Portugal, and
by the “Convention of Cintra” the fortresses were to be given up, and
the French troops transported to France in the vessels of the Russian
fleet for a time blockaded in the Tagus by a British fleet.
Meanwhile Moore, landing at Maceira Bay, had joined the army, the whole
of which finally marched to Lisbon.
The convention was bitterly condemned in England, though Napoleon
thought she had concluded a good bargain. By it Portugal had been
temporarily freed, and a good base of operations, with good harbours,
was obtained for further efforts. None the less both Dalrymple and
Burrard were practically retired, and the supreme command was now open
for the future Duke of Wellington when the time came. But scapegoats
were wanted, if only to please the irresponsible and irrepressible home
critics.
“But when Convention sent his handywork,
Pens, tongues, feet, hands, combined in wild uproar;
Mayor, aldermen, laid down the uplifted fork;
The bench of bishops half forgot to snore;
Stern Cobbett, who for one whole week forbore
To question aught, once more with transport leapt,
And bit his devilish quill again and swore
With foe such treaty never should be kept.
Then burst the blatant beast, and raged, and roared, and slept.”[34]
For a brief space, matters were quiescent. But Napoleon fully
recognised the gravity of the situation, and saw that a Spanish rising
might become a grave menace to France. He even induced his ally, the
Czar, to address King George a letter, asking him to make peace “in the
name of humanity”! It was like “Satan reproving sin,” and produced no
result; so he himself therefore took the matter in hand. He re-invaded
Spain to re-instate Joseph on the Spanish throne. He defeated the
Spanish armies, to be met by the advance of the army under Moore, who
had succeeded to the command after the Convention of Cintra, had landed
at Lisbon, and was to be reinforced by Sir David Baird, who had reached
Corunna with a force of some ten thousand men.
It was arranged that the two divisions should concentrate at Salamanca,
but there were many difficulties in the way. The point of union,
or concentration, was too close to the enemy to be safe. There was
Spanish and Portuguese opposition, want of money on the one hand; on
the other, a country to traverse which was ill provided with roads,
and those of the worst character. Hence Moore still further subdivided
his command. The cavalry and artillery and heavy baggage were to move
by Elvas on Salamanca, whither Baird was also directed; the remainder
in two columns, one by Almeida, the other by Alcantara, and thence by
Ciudad Rodrigo to Salamanca; while, in addition to this separation, the
columns themselves were further subdivided into sub-units, separated
by intervals in the columns of march, thus greatly increasing their
depth and lessening their power of concentration for battle. Moore’s
difficulties increased rather than lessened as the advance continued.
The Spanish, profuse of promises of assistance, were slow in fulfilling
them. The transport was notoriously insufficient and inefficient. The
inhabitants themselves, strangely enough, were by no means enthusiastic
to their allies and would-be deliverers. The Spanish armies had been
successively beaten, and were much disorganised. There was nothing
for it but retreat really, though Moore made a last desperate effort
to retrieve matters, trusting to the glowing but untrue reports as to
the enthusiastic resistance the Madrileños were prepared to make, and
continued his advance to Madrid. The idea was more than risky. The
capital was already in French hands; Lefevre had already, by a movement
towards Talavera, seriously endangered his retreat to Portugal. The
weather was most severe, the local supplies of the smallest.
Still he attempted to engage Soult, whose corps was somewhat weak and
the bulk of whose cavalry were about Sahagun. Baird was directed on
Mayorga; Moore himself moved on Saldaña, and the 10th and 15th Light
Cavalry, by a night march, engaged the enemy at Sahagun, the latter
regiment won the right to carry the name on its battle-roll. It is the
only cavalry regiment so distinguished. This fully roused the energies
of Napoleon. He determined to attempt the complete destruction of the
British force. Soult from the north, through Astorga, Lefevre from
the south by Talavera, and the main army under his own command by the
Escurial Pass, were to close in and surround Moore.
The celebrated “Retreat to Corunna” commenced. Moore was to change
his base from Lisbon to Corunna, and began by falling back on Castro
Gonzalo (at Benevente) and Baird was retiring on Valencia (towns on
the river Esla) to unite with him at Astorga; and at both Mayorga and
Castro Gonzalo skirmishes occurred with the French cavalry which were
highly creditable to the British. Napoleon pursued as rapidly as the
state of the weather, with deep snow, would permit; but, recalled to
France on the 1st January 1809, he left to Soult the task of “driving
the leopard into the sea.” While in supreme command, the emperor had
infused his own boundless energy into the army, and had marched a
force of fifty thousand men over snowclad passes and in bitter weather
some two hundred miles in ten days! Many brilliant skirmishes were
carried out by the English cavalry at Mayorga, Benevente (where General
Lefebvre Desnouettes was taken prisoner), and at Constantine, and
notoriously that by the 10th Hussars at Calcabellos; and an attempt was
made to induce the enemy to attack at Lugo, but it only resulted in
a skirmish and not a battle, and the dismal retreat was continued by
Betanzos on Corunna. By this time the army was completely demoralised.
Repeated orders had been issued, but seem to have been of little
effect. At Bembribee, for example, the men broke into the wine vaults,
and drunkenness reigned; shops were broken into and plundered there and
elsewhere. The sufferings were extreme. Soldiers, women, and children
lay down in the snow by the line of march to die. It being winter,
fords were deep, and men had to cross them, and march in their wet
clothes under storms of rain, wind, and sleet.
Guns had to be abandoned, and, like the military chest on one occasion,
thrown over precipices to avoid capture; and horses were shot, as there
was no food for them. The “stars in their courses” fought against
Moore. Even the precautions taken at Lugo to carry out a night march
failed, for the wind blew down the bundles of straw that had been
placed to mark the roads, and bridges that should have been destroyed
were left standing.
Little wonder then that the troops hailed the sight of the sea at
Corunna with cheers, though it was three days after their arrival under
the walls of the little fortress before the transports dropped anchor
in the harbour. But the retreat was over, and the army stood at bay.
With all their unquestionable indiscipline and insubordination on the
march, those who were left had not lost the fighting spirit. It was
either victory, or capitulation, or a most disastrous embarkation; and
the army played for the first and won. Soult had twenty thousand men
flushed with the feeling of success to engage the remnants of Moore’s
army, barely fifteen thousand strong.
The stores and magazines having been destroyed, and the horses killed,
the non-combatants and all the guns except nine six-pounders embarked.
The regiments, too, would have followed, but Soult prepared for attack,
and the army faced him, with backs to the sea.
Soult’s attack was purely frontal, and designed to drive back the
supposed demoralised British army on the town. A strong force of
cavalry was on the extreme left, next to which was a heavy battery, and
on the right three heavy columns descended the ridge, covered by clouds
of skirmishers to force the division of Baird and Hope. The 50th again
distinguished itself by a vigorous use of the bayonet, and the ensigns
bearing the colours fell, to be carried then by the colour-sergeants;
while Major Charles Napier, of whom we hear more, later, in Scinde,
was wounded and taken prisoner. Baird, too, was severely wounded by a
grapeshot, and the 42nd, being short of ammunition, were falling back,
when Moore himself led them forward with the stirring appeal, “My
brave Highlanders, you have still your bayonets. Remember Egypt;” and
so doing fell from his horse with his shoulder shattered by a cannon
ball. None the less, he watched the victorious advance of the 42nd into
the shambles of Elvina village, which was the key of the fight, until
it was necessary to carry him to the rear on a blanket supported by
sashes, and soon he breathed his last, with the hope, amply fulfilled,
that his country would do him justice.
From the outset, he was despatched with almost certain failure in view.
The wide dispersal of the Spanish armies, their notorious want of
cohesion and experience, were alone serious dangers; but if there be
added to this, a force too small for the purpose, a most indifferent
commissariat, and an ill-supplied military chest, the task imposed on
Moore was hopelessly impossible. Still, whatever the errors made in
the plan of campaign and in the disastrous retreat, Corunna more than
compensated for them, and Moore, the guiding spirit of it all, was laid
to rest in one of the bastions of the citadel, “with his martial cloak
around him,” after the embarkation which followed. On the night of,
and morning after, the battle, and when the 23rd Royal Welsh Fusiliers
were the last to quit the shore, the French, with chivalric courtesy,
kept the tricolour half-mast high, and fired the parting salute of
cannon over the grave of Sir John Moore. But the well-known poetry,
descriptive of the hero’s funeral, written by Wolfe, is not strictly
accurate. There was no need for the “lanterns dimly burning,” as it was
already daylight.
The troops engaged were the Grenadier Guards, the 1st, 2nd, 4th, 5th,
6th, 9th, 14th, 20th, 23rd, 26th, 28th, 32nd, 36th, 38th, 42nd, 43rd,
50th, 51st, 52nd, 59th, 71st, 81st, 91st, 92nd, and Rifle Brigade; but
as if to give the crowning touch to the sufferings of the campaign, the
fleet was scattered by a storm on the way home, and many ships were
wrecked.
Military operations on a large scale ceased in Portugal after the
return home of Moore’s army. Soult had stormed and occupied Oporto, and
a strong army was nominally under the command of Joseph in Madrid and
to the west, while Lapisse was at Salamanca and Victor near Talavera.
On the resumption of hostilities, Sir Arthur Wellesley landed with
an army at Lisbon. The somewhat disorganised Portuguese troops were
to be “wheeled into line” by Beresford, an officer already of some
experience, who had recently commanded the rearguard at Corunna, and
who soon proved the value, militarily, of his selection as chief in
command, though the rank and file were mutinous (and suffered for
it) at Braga; and Portugal did not like, to say the least of it, the
filling of most of the leading commands by British officers.
Soult had already been somewhat isolated. In front of him were
Portuguese levies, with Wellesley at their back; behind him the country
swarmed with guerillas; his line of communication with Madrid and the
main army by Amaranthe on his left was closed by the Portuguese under
Silviera; on his right lay the sea and British ships of war. He had no
resource but to abide events, and these came under the personal conduct
of Wellesley, though meanwhile Soult had himself freed his line of
retreat by defeating Silviera.
Guarding the approaches from Spain by detachments at Abrantes,
Santarem, and Alcantara, the English general marched against Oporto;
directing Beresford to cross the Douro higher up and threaten the
French line of retreat by Amaranthe. After some skirmishes he reached
the south bank of the river, where the pontoon bridge had been
destroyed, and all the boats removed to the north bank. He decided
on effecting the passage of the Douro, _en plein face_ of the enemy,
and the tactics adopted are typical of such an operation. He menaced
the mouth of the river, where gunboats were collected, as if with the
intention of transferring his army by these means to the north bank of
the estuary; he despatched Murray to turn the Oporto position at the
ford of Avintas, a short distance up stream; he selected a re-entrant
bend which was covered by a commanding artillery position at the
convent of Serra; he recognised the tactical value of a seminary on
the north bank, opposite the re-entrant, and, utilising some boats
discovered by Colonel Waters, one of the staff, the troops embarked,
and the seminary was occupied. But it must be noticed that “it was not
until Sir Arthur had become aware of Murray’s passage higher up the
Douro at Avintas,” that he gave the order, “Well! let the men begin to
cross.” Then the French awoke, but it was too late. Desperate fighting
occurred at the seminary gate, but the artillery on the Serra hill was
too powerful, and the enemy began to withdraw from the town, whereupon
the Portuguese passed boats across to Villa Nova, immediately opposite
the city, where the pontoon bridge had been. There the guards, under
Sherbrooke, crossed, and the French retired in haste by the Amaranthe
road, to find that place occupied by Beresford; so that Soult had to
continue his retreat in disorder, and that by a more circuitous route,
pursued by Sherbrooke and harassed by guerillas.
It is interesting here to record that a little later, when Colonel
Waters was taken prisoner, he effected his escape when guarded by
four gens d’armes, owing to the mere speed of his horse, and this
notwithstanding that “he was on a wide plain, and before him and for
miles behind him the road was covered with French columns. His hat
fell off, and, thus marked, he rode along the flank of the troops;
some encouraged and others fired at him, and the gens d’armes, sword
in hand, were always close at his heels. Suddenly he broke at full
speed between two of the columns, gained a wooded hollow, and, having
thus baffled his pursuers, evaded the rear of the enemy’s army, and
the third day reached headquarters, where Lord Wellington, knowing
his resolute, subtle character, had caused his baggage to be brought,
observing that he would not be long absent.”[35]
But danger from the main French army, under Victor and Lapisse,
threatened the southern part of Portugal. Hearing of Soult’s disaster,
the French fell back again on Talavera, where, facing them, was the
ill-disciplined Spanish army under Cuesta. With the latter Wellesley
proposed to co-operate and advance against Madrid. So he marched,
after making arrangements for the defence of Oporto, by Abrantes and
Placencia, where the concentration with the other Portuguese forces
available was effected, to Oropesa. There he was joined by Cuesta, an
old man of crabbed temper and of great self-conceit, and the combined
army advanced on Talavera.
Here Wellesley first had practical experience of the weakness of his
Spanish allies. The talk of their generals and officers “was like the
maddest boastings of Don Quixote, their conduct in action was that of
his squire.”[36] Supplies promised were not forthcoming. Plundering
was therefore far from uncommon, and the British army was by no means
well disciplined at that time. Even their own general recognised this.
“The army,” he writes, “behaves terribly ill. They are a rabble who
cannot bear success any more than Sir John Moore’s army could bear
failure.... They plunder in all directions.” But they were only very
raw soldiers after all, and hungry men are not easily kept in order
when food exists, and they can have none of it unless they take it by
force. At Talavera, for example, the men had only “a few ounces of
wheat in the grain throughout that day” of battle. Cuesta obstinately
took his own line, and suffered for it. He would not attack the
French, when Wellesley proposed to do so, but went to bed! Taking the
initiative himself afterwards, he was roughly handled, and fell back
in disorder, but was finally persuaded to make a stand at Talavera.
The Allies numbered some 53,000 men, with 100 guns, of which the
British counted 19,000. The French, under the nominal supreme command
of Joseph, numbered 50,000 seasoned troops and 80 guns. These took the
offensive. Early in the day, some 10,000 of the Spanish broke and fled,
taking Cuesta with them. Whittingham, formerly the military attaché at
Baylen and now brigadier, helped to stop the gap thus made by bringing
up some Spanish battalions of stiffer metal. So the army held its own,
the French fell sullenly back, and thus ended the first day’s battle.
At daybreak, the combat was renewed, and, owing to the intense heat
of the day, somewhat intermittently. During one of these lulls, both
combatants ran to assuage their thirst at a stream that ran between the
armies, and conversed amicably until the bugler on both sides sounded
the “fall in,” and the recent friends met again as foes. So the battle
was renewed with varying fortune, until, as evening drew on, the French
retired to their original position.
During the latter part of the day a vigorous cavalry charge was made by
the 23rd Light Dragoons and Arentschild’s Hussars of the German Legion
on the head of a French column, but, meeting with a deep ravine, the
former plunged confusedly into it; but they still managed to reach the
enemy’s square, where they were practically annihilated, though they
undoubtedly paralysed the enemy for a time. But Arentschild, wiser in
his generation, wheeled aside, exclaiming, “I will not kill my young
mens.”
* * * * *
On the 29th July, Crawford’s Light Division, the 42nd, 52nd, and 95th,
joined the army after a march of forty-two miles in twenty-six hours,
during which each carried sixty pounds’ weight, in a time of extreme
heat, and went on outpost duty at once![37] Verily they were men in
those days, when khaki suits and sun-helmets were not.
The victory of Talavera made Sir Arthur my Lord Viscount Wellington,
with a pension of £2000 a year, and placed its name on the colours
of the 3rd Dragoon Guards, 14th Hussars, 16th Lancers, Coldstream
and Scots Guards, the 3rd, 7th, 24th, 29th, 31st, 40th, 45th, 48th,
53rd, 60th, 61st, 66th, 83rd, 87th, and 88th Regiments of the line.
A gold medal was also granted to all officers above the rank of
lieutenant-colonel, who had served at Corunna and Talavera.
Meanwhile, Soult was again advancing, and now in great force, on
Placencia, which place he reached without opposition, as Cuesta had
failed to guard the Baños Pass as he had promised. Wellington, unaware
of this, marched to it; while the advance of Joseph again rendered a
retreat, in presence of such numbers, unavoidable. Cuesta fell back,
abandoning both Spanish and British wounded to French generosity, which
was not misplaced.
Finally, the Spanish were defeated in a series of small affairs,
while Wellington had crossed the Tagus at Arzobespo. Winter quarters
were taken up in the valley of the Mondego, when the Spaniards were
defending Ciudad Rodrigo on the one hand, and Beresford was covering
Almeida on the other; but the cessation of hostilities, in other parts
of Europe about this time, enabled Napoleon to pour considerable
reinforcements into the Peninsula, and to attempt once again the
invasion of Portugal. Then, by the summer of 1810, the French had three
corps (Victor, Mortier, and Sebastiani) in Andalusia; Joseph, with
24,000 men, in Madrid; and three corps (Ney, Regnier, and Junot), to be
united under the “spoiled child of victory,” Massena, who was selected
to invade Portugal, and prove that on this occasion, at all events,
fortune was going to “spoil the child.” There were three roads by which
this invasion could be effected,--from Oporto, from Badajoz, and from
Salamanca by Almeida and the Coa. This latter route was watched by
Crawford with some of the Light Division.
Here occurred the first skirmishes along the Coa, which were brilliant
rather than useful; and the army, falling back before Massena, who
captured Ciudad Rodrigo and Almeida, took up a position on the Busaco
Sierra, as much with the view of restoring the morale of troops already
becoming disheartened by retreat, as for checking the enemy. “It was,
in fine, a political battle, and Wellington afterwards called it a
mistake.”[38] The delay in attacking enabled Wellington to further
strengthen his position on the ridge, eight miles long, the flanks
of which rested on the Mondego on the right, and on some precipitous
ravines on the left; and the French attack on it was conducted with the
greatest boldness and impetuosity.
Though strategically unnecessary, the battle is interesting tactically,
as showing clearly the method of fighting frequently adopted, that
of the defensive; and it compares the French columnar formation--the
ranks of the companies being three deep, covered in their advance by
skirmishers--with the linear formations of Frederick the Great and
Wellington. Napier’s description of Busaco is singularly vivid:--
“Crawford, in a happy mood for command, made masterly dispositions.
The tableland between him and the convent was sufficiently scooped to
conceal the 43rd and 52nd Regiments drawn up in line; and a quarter
of a mile behind them, on higher ground and close to the convent, the
German infantry appeared to be the only solid line of resistance on
this part of the position. In front of the British regiments, some
rocks, overhanging the descent, furnished natural embrasures in which
Ross’s guns were placed; and beyond them, the riflemen and Caçadores
were placed as skirmishers, covering the slope of the mountain. While
it was still dark, a straggling musketry fire was heard in the deep
valley; and when the light broke, three heavy masses, detached from
the Sixth Corps, were seen to enter the wood below and throw forward a
profusion of skirmishers. One of them, under General Marchand, emerging
from the dark chasm and following the main road, seemed intent to turn
the right of the Light Division; a second, under Loison, made straight
up the face of the mountain against the front; the third remained in
reserve. Simon’s brigade, leading Loison’s attack, ascended with a
wonderful alacrity; and though the light troops plied it unceasingly
with musketry, and the artillery swept through it from the first to
the last section, its order was never disturbed nor its speed in the
least abated. Ross’s guns were worked with incredible quickness, yet
the range was palpably contracted every round. The enemy’s shot came
singing up in a sharper key; the English skirmishers, breathless and
begrimed with powder, rushed over the edge of the ascent, the artillery
drew back, and the victorious cries of the French were heard within a
few yards of the summit.
“Crawford, standing alone on one of the rocks, had been intently
watching the progress of the attack; and now, with a shrill tone,
ordered the two regiments in reserve to charge. The next moment, a
horrid shout startled the French column, and 1800 British bayonets went
sparkling over the brow of the hill. Yet so brave, so hardy were the
leading French, that each man of the first section raised his musket,
and two officers and ten men fell before them. Not a Frenchman had
missed his mark--they could do no more. The head of the column was
violently thrown back on the rear, both flanks were overlapped at the
same moment by the English wings, then terrible discharges at five
yards’ distance shattered the waving mass, and a long track of broken
arms and bleeding carcases marked the line of fight.”
At this battle were engaged the 1st, 5th, 9th, 38th, 43rd, 45th,
52nd, 74th, 83rd, 88th, and the Rifle Brigade. During the pursuit and
retreat, both armies plundered somewhat, and three men were hanged at
Leira by Wellington for this crime; while skirmishes with the rearguard
occurred frequently, showing that the armies were still in close touch.
This emphasises the prescience of Wellington in preparing for this
emergency. The temporary abandonment of Spain was due entirely to one
cause, and that he early and fully recognised. “I have no motive,” he
writes, “for withdrawing the British army from Spain, whether of a
political or military nature, excepting that which I have stated to you
in conversation--namely, a desire to relieve it from the privations of
food which it has suffered since the 22nd of last month; privations
which have reduced its strength, have destroyed the health of the
soldiers, and have rendered the army comparatively inefficient.”
Writing after the battle of Talavera, on the 31st July, he says: “It is
positively a fact that during the last seven days the British army has
not received one-third of its provisions, and that at this moment there
are nearly four thousand wounded soldiers dying in hospital from want
of common assistance and necessaries,” and this while the Spanish army
was well fed. In such a case, even an attempt at embarkation might have
been disturbed even more seriously than at Corunna, unless preparations
to meet such an emergency were made, let alone the moral effect of
such a withdrawal from the Peninsula. Hence, long before, the “lines
of Torres Vedras” had been begun, and carried on with the greatest
secrecy. Massena was not aware, apparently, of their existence. Those
who did know, thought the works were merely for the protection of
the capital, and to cover the embarkation if decided on. They were
rather too extensive for either. They were in three lines, covering
the five roads converging on Lisbon; the outer line was twenty miles
from Lisbon, and twenty-nine miles long, extending from the Tagus to
the mouth of the Zizambre; the second line, eight miles in rear, was
twenty-four miles long, equally strongly fortified; the third line,
which was to cover embarkation, enclosed an entrenched camp, with Fort
St. Julian, a place of strength. In all there were one hundred and
fifty redoubts, and six hundred guns; and British marines joined hands
with the army and Portuguese in defence, while British gunboats guarded
the flanks of the Torres Vedras lines.
Behind them, in all, were 130,000 combatants, of whom 70,000 were
regulars.
Massena made sundry partial efforts against the lines, and then fell
back on a fortified position at Santarem; while Junot, after capturing
Badajoz and besieging Cadiz, had left Victor to continue the siege,
and moved to join his chief; but he was turned back by the news that
General Graham had, by transferring a force from Cadiz by sea, assailed
the French lines at Barrosa. The Grenadiers, Scots and Coldstream
Guards, and the 28th, 67th, 87th, and Rifle Brigade distinguished
themselves in the battle, and Sergeant Masterton, of the 87th,
captured the first eagle taken in the Peninsular War. Thus to their
former nickname of the “Faugh-a-ballagh,” or “Clear-the-way Boys,” was
possibly added that of the “Aiglers.” The battle had lasted but one and
a half hours when the French retired.
In the meantime, Massena was steadily getting weaker, while his
immediate adversary was getting reinforced; and he therefore determined
on a retreat, which was “marked by a barbarity seldom equalled, and
never surpassed.”[39] Wherever they bivouacked, “the scene was such
as might have been looked for in a camp of predatory Tartars, rather
than in that of civilised people. Food and forage, and skins of wine,
and clothes, and church vestments, books and guitars, and all the
bulkier articles of wasteful spoil were heaped together in their
huts, with the planks and doors of the habitations which they had
demolished. Some of the men, retaining amidst this brutal service the
characteristic activity and cleverness of their nation, fitted up their
tents with hangings from their last scene of pillage, with a regard to
comfort hardly to have been expected in their situation, and a love
of gaiety only to be found in Frenchmen.” It was not for four days
that Wellington was aware that the French were retreating; but as soon
as he could concentrate, he commenced a pursuit, in which a series
of brilliant skirmishes and rearguard actions were fought at Pombal,
Redinha, Condeixa, Cazel Nova, and Foz d’Aronce.
Beresford was detached to besiege Badajoz. At Sabugal, which Wellington
describes as “one of the most glorious actions British troops were ever
engaged in,” the 43rd, with four companies of riflemen, practically
checked the whole of Regnier’s corps, with artillery and cavalry added,
and even captured one of the enemy’s howitzers.
These operations resulted in Massena’s abandonment of Portugal, and his
retirement by Ciudad Rodrigo to Salamanca, having lost thirty thousand
men since he had crossed the frontier a year before.
Throughout the whole of this campaign, the greatly, preponderating
numbers of the French had been minimised by the usual jealousy and
want of co-operation between the French marshals. Only Napoleon’s
master-hand could keep them in hand, and make them work to a common
end. The difference between the conduct of the war from the time he
advanced by Vittoria on Madrid and dispersed the Spanish armies, and
that after his return to France, is too marked to require comment.