SALAMANCA.
The great triumphs of Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajos did not lead to the
rapid successes which Wellington had hoped. The French generals,
on hearing of the loss of the latter fortress, again fell back,
and Wellington was so much hampered by shortness of money, by the
inefficiency, obstinacy, and intrigues of the Portuguese Government,
and by want of transport, that it was nearly three months before he
could get everything in readiness for an advance into Spain. At last
all was prepared, and on the 13th of June the army once more crossed
the Agueda and marched towards the Tamar in four columns. On the 17th
it was within six miles of Salamanca, and Marshal Marmont, unable for
the moment to stem the tide of invasion, evacuated the city, which
that evening blazed with illuminations, the people being half wild
with joy at their approaching deliverance. The French, however, had
not entirely departed, for eight hundred men still held some very
strong forts overlooking and guarding the city.
These forts held out desperately; the British battering train
was weak, and upon the 23d Marmont, having received considerable
reinforcements, advanced to raise the siege. Wellington, however,
refused to be tempted to leave his trenches to deliver a general
battle, but faced the enemy with a portion of his army while he
continued the siege.
Marmont, upon his part, believing that the forts could hold out for
fifteen days, put off the attack, as he knew that large reinforcements
were coming up. His calculations were frustrated by one of the forts
taking fire on the 27th, when an assault was delivered, and the whole
of the forts surrendered; Marmont at once fell back across the Douro,
there to await the arrival of his reinforcements.
Wellington, on his part, followed slowly, and his army took up a
position between Canizal and Castrejon, thereby covering the roads
from Toro and Tordesillas, the only points at which the French could
cross the river. The reports of the spies all agreed that the former
was the place at which the crossing would be made.
On the 16th of July an officer rode into Canizal, at headlong pace,
with the news that a reconnoitering party had crossed the Douro that
morning near Tordesillas, and had found that place deserted, except by
a garrison; and an hour later the news came in that three divisions of
the enemy were already across the river at Toro. Five minutes later
the Scudamores were on horseback, carrying orders that the whole of
the army, with the exception of the fourth and light divisions, which
were on the Trabancos, under General Cotton, were to concentrate at
Canizal that night. By the morning the movement was accomplished.
The day wore on in somewhat anxious expectation, and towards afternoon
Wellington, accompanied by Lord Beresford, and escorted by Alten's,
Bock's and Le Marchant's brigades of cavalry, started to make a
reconnaissance of the enemy's movements. Caution was needed for the
advance, as it was quite uncertain whether the French were pushing
on through the open country towards Canizal, or whether they were
following the direct road from Toro to Salamanca. Evening closed in,
but no signs of the French army were seen, and the party halted about
six miles from Toro, and small parties of cavalry were despatched
right and left to scour the country, and find out where the enemy had
gone.
"It's very strange where the French can have got to," was the remark
made, for the fiftieth time among the staff.
The detached parties returned, bringing no news whatever, and Lord
Wellington again advanced slowly and cautiously towards Toro. Small
parties were pushed on ahead, and presently an officer rode back
with the news that he had been as far as the river, and that not a
Frenchman was to be seen. It was too late to do any more, and they
remained in uncertainty whether the enemy had recrossed the river
after making a demonstration, or whether they had marched to their
right, so as to make a circuit, and throw themselves between Ciudad
Rodrigo and Salamanca, upon the line of communication of the British
army.
Lord Wellington, with his staff, took possession of a deserted
farm-house, the cavalry picketed their horses round it, and the
Scudamores, who had been more than twenty-four hours in the saddle,
wrapped themselves in their cloaks, and stretching themselves on the
floor, were soon asleep. Just at midnight the sound of a horse's
footfall approaching at a gallop was heard, and an officer, who had
ridden, without drawing rein, from Canizal, dashed up to the farm.
Five minutes later the whole party were in the saddle again. The news
was important, indeed. Marmont had drawn his whole army back across
the Toro on the night of the 16th, had marched to Tordesillas, crossed
there, and in the afternoon, after a march of fifty miles, had fallen
upon Cotton's outposts, and driven them across the Trabancos.
Not a moment's time was lost by Wellington after he received the news;
but, unfortunately, six precious hours had already been wasted, owing
to the despatches not having reached him at Canizal. With the three
brigades of cavalry he set off at once towards Alaejos, while an
officer was despatched to Canizal, to order the fifth division to
march with all speed to Torrecilla de la Orden, six miles in the rear
of Cotton's position at Castrejon.
Four hours' riding brought them to Alaejos, where a halt for two or
three hours was ordered, to rest the weary horses and men. Soon after
daybreak, however, all thought of sleep was banished by the roar of
artillery, which told that Marmont was pressing hard upon Cotton's
troops. "To horse!" was the cry, and Lords Wellington and Beresford,
with their staff, rode off at full speed towards the scene of action,
with the cavalry following hard upon their heels. An hour's ride
brought them to the ground. Not much could be seen, for the country
was undulating and bare, like the Brighton Downs, and each depression
was full of the white morning mist, which wreathed and tossed
fantastically from the effects of the discharges of firearms, the
movements of masses of men, and the charges of cavalry hidden within
it. Upon a crest near at hand were a couple of British guns, with a
small escort of horse.
Suddenly, from the mist below, a party of some fifty French horsemen
dashed out and made for the guns. The supporting squadron, surprised
by the suddenness of the attack, broke and fled; the French followed
hard upon them, and just as Lord Wellington, with his staff, gained
the crest, pursuers and pursued came upon them, and in pell-mell
confusion the whole were borne down to the bottom of the hill. For
a few minutes it was a wild mélée. Lords Wellington, Beresford, and
their staff, with their swords drawn, were in the midst of the fight,
and friends and foes were mingled together, when the leading squadrons
of the cavalry from Alaejos came thundering down, and very few of the
Frenchmen who had made that gallant charge escaped to tell the tale.
The mists were now rapidly clearing up, and in a short time the whole
French army could be seen advancing. They moved towards the British
left, and Wellington ordered the troops at once to retire. The British
fell back in three columns, and marched for the Guarena, through
Torrecilla de la Orden. The French also marched straight for the
river, and now one of the most singular sights ever presented in
warfare was to be seen.
The hostile armies were marching abreast, the columns being but a few
hundred yards apart, the officers on either side waving their hands to
each other. For ten miles the armies thus pressed forward the officers
urging the men, and these straining every nerve to get first to the
river. From time to time the artillery of either side, finding a
convenient elevation, would pour a few volleys of grape into the
opposing columns, but the position of the two armies, did not often
admit of this. Gradually Cotton's men, fresher than the French, who
had, in the two previous days, marched fifty miles, gained ground,
and, reaching the river, marched across by the ford, the winners of
the great race by so little that one division, which halted for a
moment to drink, was swept by forty pieces of French artillery, which
arrived on the spot almost simultaneously with it.
On the Guarena the British found the remaining divisions of the army,
which had been brought up from Canizal. These checked Marmont in an
attempt to cross at Vallesa, while the 29th and 40th Regiments, with
a desperate bayonet charge, drove Carier's French division back as it
attempted to push forward beyond Castrillo. Thus the two armies faced
each other on the Guarena, and Marmont had gained absolutely nothing
by his false movement at Toro, and his long and skillful detour by
Tordesillas.
Quickly the rest of the day passed, as did the one which followed, the
troops on both sides resting after their fatigues. Wellington expected
to be attacked on the next morning and his army was arranged in two
lines ready for the combat. At daybreak, however, Marmont moved his
army up the river, crossed at a ford there, and marched straight
for Salamanca, thus turning Wellington's right, and threatening his
communications. The British at once fell back, and the scene of the
previous day was repeated the armies marching along the crest of two
parallel hills within musket shot distance of each other.
This time however, the French troops, although they had marched
considerably farther than the English proved themselves the best
marchers, and when night fell Wellington had the mortification of
seeing them in possession of the ford of Huerta on the Tormes, thus
securing for Marmont the junction with an army which was approaching
under King Joseph, and also the option of either fighting or refusing
battle. Wellington felt his position seriously threatened, and sent
off a despatch to the Spanish General Castanos, stating his inability
to hold his ground, and the probability that he should be obliged to
fall back upon Portugal. This letter proved the cause of the victory
of Salamanca for it was intercepted by the French, and Marmont,
fearing that Wellington would escape him, prepared at once to throw
himself upon the road to Ciudad Rodrigo, and thus cut the British line
of retreat, in spite of the positive order which he had received from
King Joseph not to fight until he himself arrived with his army.
Upon the 21st both armies crossed the Tormes, the French at Alba and
Huerta, the British at Aldea Lengua, and San Marta. Upon that day the
news reached Wellington that General Chauvel, with 2000 cavalry, and
20 guns, would reach Marmont on the evening of the 22d, or the morning
of the 23d, and the English general therefore resolved to retreat,
unless Marmont should, by some mistake, give him a chance of fighting
to advantage.
Close to the British right, and the French left, were two steep and
rugged hills, called the Hermanitos, or Brothers, and soon after
daybreak on the 22d, the French seized upon the one nearest to them,
while the British took possession of the other. Then, watching each
other, the two armies remained until noon, for Wellington could not
commence his retreat by daylight; but a long cloud of dust along the
road to Ciudad Rodrigo showed that the baggage of the army was already
_en route_ for Portugal. Marmont now determined to make a bold stroke
to cut off Wellington's retreat, and, although all his troops had not
yet arrived, he ordered Maucune, with two divisions, to march round by
the left and menace the Ciudad road. It was at three o'clock in the
afternoon, and Wellington, who had been up all night, thinking that
Marmont would make no move that day, had gone to lie down for an hour
or two, when Tom Scudamore who, from an elevated point, was watching
the movements of the enemy, hurried in with the news that the French
were pushing their left round towards the Ciudad Road.
Wellington leaped to his feet, and hurried to the high ground, where
he beheld, with stern satisfaction, that Marmont, in his eagerness
to prevent the British escape, had committed the flagrant error of
detaching his wing from his main body. Instantly he issued orders
for an attack, and the great mass of men upon the British Hermanito
moved down upon the plain to attack Maucune in flank, while the third
division was ordered to throw itself across his line of march, and to
attack him in front. As the advance across the plain would be taken in
flank by the fire from the French Hermanito, General Pack was ordered
to assail that position directly the British line had passed it.
Marmont, standing on the French Hermanito, was thunder-struck at
beholding the plain suddenly covered with enemies, and a tremendous
fire was at once opened upon the advancing British. Officer after
officer was despatched to hurry up the French troops still upon the
march, and when Marmont saw the third division dash across Maucune's
path, he was upon the point of hurrying himself to the spot, when a
shell burst close to him, and he was dashed to the earth with a broken
arm, and two deep wounds in his side.
Thus, at the critical point of the battle, the French army was left
without a head.
It was just five o'clock when Pakenham, with the third division, fell
like a thunderbolt upon the head of Maucune's troops. These, taken by
surprise by this attack, on the part of an enemy whom they had thought
to see in full flight, yet fought gallantly, and strove to gain time
to open out into order of battle. Bearing onwards, however, with
irresistible force, the third division broke the head of the column,
and drove it back upon its supports. Meanwhile, the battle raged all
along the line; in the plain the fourth division carried the village
of Arapiles, and drove back Bonnet's division with the bayonet, and
the fifth division attacked Maucune's command in flank, while Pakenham
was destroying its front.
Marmont was succeeded in his command by Bonnet, who was also wounded,
and Clausel, an able general, took the command. He reinforced Maucune
with his own divisions, which had just arrived, and, for a while,
restored the battle. Then, past the right and left of Pakenham's
division, the British cavalry, under Le Marchant, Anson, and D'Urban,
burst through the smoke and dust, rode down twelve hundred of the
French infantry, and then dashed on at the line behind. Nobly the
charge was pressed, the third division following at a run, and the
charge ceased not until the French left was entirely broken and five
guns, and two thousand prisoners taken.
But forty minutes had passed since the first gun was fired, and the
French defeat was already all but irretrievable, and the third,
fourth, and fifth divisions now in line, swept forward as to assured
victory. Clausel, however, proved equal to the emergency. He
reinforced Bonnet's division with that of Fereij, as yet fresh and
unbroken, and, at the same moment, Sarrut's and Brennier's divisions
issued from the forest, and formed in the line of battle. Behind them
the broken troops of Maucune's two divisions re-formed, and the battle
was renewed with terrible force.
Pack, at the same moment, attempted unsuccessfully to carry the French
Hermanito by assault with his Portuguese division, and the fate of the
battle was again in the balance; the British divisions outnumbered,
and outflanked, began to fall back, Generals Cole, Leith, and Spry,
were all wounded, and the French cavalry threatened the flank of the
line. Wellington, however, had still plenty of reserves in hand, and
at this critical moment he launched them at the enemy. The sixth
division was brought up from the second line, and hurled at the center
of the enemy in a fierce and prolonged charge, while the light and
first divisions were directed against the French divisions which were
descending from the French Hermanito, and against that of Foy, while
the seventh division and the Spaniards were brought up behind the
first line. Against so tremendous an assault as this the French could
make no stand, and were pushed back in ever increasing disorder to the
edge of the forest, where Foy's and Maucune's divisions stood at bay,
and covered their retreat in the fast gathering darkness.
Wellington believed that he should capture a great portion of the
beaten army, for he relied upon the Castle of Alba de Formes,
commanding the ford at that place, being held by the Spaniards, but
these had evacuated the place on the preceding day, and had not even
informed Wellington that they had done so.
Thus, hidden by the night, the French retreated with but slight loss
from the pursuing columns. In the battle the French had forty-two
thousand men and seventy-four guns; the Allies forty-six thousand and
sixty guns, but of the infantry a division were composed of Spaniards,
and these could not be relied upon in any way. It was probably the
most rapidly fought action ever known, and a French officer described
it as the defeat of forty thousand men in forty minutes. The French
loss was over twelve thousand in killed, wounded, and prisoners, and
so completely were they dispersed that Clausel a week afterwards
could only collect twenty thousand to their standards. It was a great
victory, and celebrated as the first which Wellington had gained over
the French, for although at Talavera and Busaco he had repulsed the
French attack, he was not in either case in a position to do more than
hold his ground.
Throughout this short and desperate fight the Scudamores had been
fully engaged in conveying orders from one part of the field to
another. Shot and shell flew around them in all directions, and yet
when they met at the end of the action they found that they had
escaped without a scratch. The day following the battle the pursuit
began. Had King Joseph's advancing army united with Clausel's broken
troops, he could have opposed Wellington's advance with a force far
superior in numbers to that defeated at Salamanca. But Joseph, after
hesitating, fell back in one direction, Clausel retreated in another,
the opportunity for concentration was lost, and Wellington found no
foe to bar his way on his triumphant march upon Madrid.
Joseph fell back from the capital as the English approached, leaving
some thousands of men in the strong place known as the Retiro,
together with an immense amount of arms, ammunition, and military
stores of all kinds, all of which, including the troops, fell into the
hands of the English within a few days of their arrival at Madrid.
It was a proud moment for the Scudamores, as riding behind Lord
Wellington they entered Madrid on the 14th August.
The city was half mad with joy. Crowds lined the streets, while every
window and balcony along the route was filled with ladies, who waved
their scarves, clapped their hands, and showered flowers upon the
heads of their deliverers. Those below, haggard and half-starved,
for the distress in Madrid was intense, thronged round the general's
horse, a shouting, weeping throng, kissing his cloak, his horse, any
portion of his equipments which they could touch. Altogether it was
one of the most glorious, most moving, most enthusiastic welcomes ever
offered to a general.
The next fortnight was spent in a round of fêtes, bull fights, and
balls, succeeding each other rapidly, but these rejoicings were but a
thin veil over the distress which was general throughout the town. The
people were starving, and many deaths occurred daily from hunger. The
British could do but little to relieve the suffering which they saw
around them, for they themselves were--owing to the utter breakdown of
all the arrangements undertaken by the Portuguese government, and to
the indecision and incapacity of the Home Government--badly fed, and
much in arrears of their pay. Nevertheless, the officers did what they
could, got up soup kitchens, and fed daily many hundreds of starving
wretches.
The heat was excessive and a very great deal of illness took place
among the troops. The French were gathering strength in the South,
and Wellington determined upon marching north and seizing Burgos, an
important place, but poorly fortified. Leaving General Hill with two
divisions at Madrid, he marched with the rest of the army upon Burgos.