DRIVING THE FRENCH OUT OF SPAIN, 1813.
Major Rice was not fit to take the field again for some months;
Colonel Mitchell was also invalided early in the year; and the junior
major (Major Roberts), therefore, had the good fortune to command the
51st during the early part of the campaign of 1813. The winter had
been spent pleasantly enough in cantonments, the officers hunting,
shooting, and holding race meetings; and although sickness, resulting
from the hardships of the past year, was prevalent amongst the troops
for some time, the long rest completely restored the health of the
army.
In the early spring Wellington began to get his divisions into
fighting form for the coming campaign. The retreat from Burgos
showed him the necessity of paying attention to discipline, in
order to get the men in hand again; exercise was also required to
enable them to cope with the physical exertions to which he knew
they would shortly be subjected; and so, from February to April,
regiments paraded almost daily for brigade and divisional manœuvres,
and were constantly reviewed by their generals, as well as by the
Commander-in-Chief. By the middle of May all was ready for the great
forward movement, which, within a few weeks, resulted in driving the
enemy to the Pyrenees, and, before the end of the year, into France.
At first sight it seems extraordinary that such great success should
have been in store for the Allies, only recently suffering from
what can but be regarded as a somewhat ignominious handling by the
enemy, for it was all that they could do to hold their own against
him during the retreat to Ciudad Rodrigo. The winter, however, had
brought about a change in the situation, and the complexion of
affairs was entirely altered, not only in the Peninsula itself, but
also in other parts of Europe. Napoleon had met with disaster in
Russia, and, for the time being, the retreat from Moscow had hipped
him, yet with no crushing effect. He required a leaven of seasoned
troops wherewith to stiffen his vast army of hastily-raised recruits,
and he therefore drew away from the Peninsula thousands of his best
officers and men. With joy Wellington became aware of these events,
and he realised that at last his opportunity had come. The Spanish
and Portuguese Governments rose to the occasion, and Wellington was
given the supreme command of the allied troops, numbering in all
parts of the Peninsula some 200,000 men (including the British). But
for his immediate operations he could not reckon on more than 90,000;
while the French still had in Spain 230,000, of whom, however, only
120,000, with 100 guns, were available to meet the Allies on the
northern line of invasion. "Yet this," says Napier, "was a great
power, of one nation, one spirit, one discipline"--as opposed to
the heterogeneous force of the three nations. Had Napoleon been in
personal command of his army in Spain, Wellington's task would have
been no light one, for the Emperor grasped the situation even from
afar, and instructed his brother Joseph accordingly, enjoining on him
to act promptly and to concentrate every available man in the north.
El Rey Joseph, however, was not the man for the work; he preferred
being a king to being a commander-in-chief; he quarrelled with his
generals; he was slow and vacillating; and he failed signally, so
much so that when Wellington opened the campaign Joseph's army was
still scattered. All this was much to Wellington's advantage, and
furthermore, he had the comfortable feeling that, advancing with his
left practically in touch with the sea, the command of which his
fleet held, he could shift his base as occasion demanded, and thus
avoid the necessity of maintaining a lengthy line of communications
as his army moved forward. In May 1813, therefore, when Wellington
had matured his plans, he felt confident that he held Joseph
Bonaparte in the hollow of his hand; and he made certain that there
should be no loophole for failure. Ordering Graham, with 40,000 men,
to push through the Portuguese province of Tras os Montes to the Esla
river, and thence outflank the French line on the Douro, Wellington
himself, with 30,000, intended to march direct on Valladolid, where
King Joseph had his headquarters, and force the enemy back from the
Douro. That accomplished, and General Castaños with 20,000 Galicians
having joined, a new front was to be formed, when the 90,000 Allies
were to make a general advance and, assailing the French all along
the line, drive them to the Pyrenees.
The 51st, in the 1st Brigade of the 7th Division (General Lord
Dalhousie), marched from its cantonments on the 14th May, with Sir
Thomas Graham's force, to the north-west. On the 18th it crossed the
Douro, near Villa Nova, but not without difficulty, the crossing
being effected in boats, and occupying twelve hours. Thence the
direction of the march was north-east, across the country lying in
the bend of the river, and on the 20th Miranda de Douro was reached.
After a halt of five days, the 7th Division moved on to the Esla
river, and encamped on its banks from the 27th to the 30th May.
Wellington now came across to see how Graham was progressing, and
after a careful reconnaissance of the Esla, he ordered the troops to
cross by a ford at daybreak on the 31st; but, since the enemy was
known to be in some strength on the opposite bank, it was decided to
push a covering party of all arms across the river during the dark
hours of the night. This party consisted of the hussar brigade, some
artillery, the 51st, and 400 Brunswick light infantry, and at 1 A.M.
on the 31st they moved down to the river. Here the water was found
to be deeper and the current more rapid than had been anticipated,
an unexpected spate having come down during the previous few hours,
but it was all-important that the covering force should cross to the
other side before daybreak. Accordingly, the infantry were instructed
to hold on to the stirrup-leathers of the hussars, and the passage
began. For a time the greatest confusion occurred; the rush of the
water caused the horses to plunge and rear; several soldiers were
swept off their feet, lost their hold of the stirrup-leathers, and
were drowned. The bulk of the party, however, reached the opposite
bank in safety, though with their ammunition saturated, shortly
after dawn, and found, to their relief, that the enemy had hastily
withdrawn, leaving only a cavalry piquet of forty men to watch the
ford. The Frenchmen retired before the advancing hussars, who pursued
at top speed, and after a sharp skirmish captured nearly all of them.
On the 1st June the 51st marched to Toro, and on the following day
pitched camp on its old ground at Tordesillas. Here Wellington
reviewed the 6th and 7th Divisions, and having been joined by the
Galicians, was now ready, with his 90,000 men and 100 guns, for the
great forward movement, which he set going on the 4th June. King
Joseph, unable to obtain the reinforcements which he had called up,
thought first of making a stand at Burgos, then withdrew to Pancorbo,
and subsequently to Vittoria. Wellington, following swiftly, gave
him no breathing space, but pressing on his flanks on all occasions,
forced him to give way. Yet the king still regarded the retirement of
his army as merely a temporary expedient, and fully believed that as
soon as his reinforcements should join him he could turn the tables
on his adversary. But he was ignorant alike of Wellington's strength
and of the fact that the Allies' base had been transferred from
Lisbon to the ports of the Biscay coast.
The Ebro was crossed on the 16th June, and on the 20th the 51st,
little thinking that the morrow would bring forth a decisive battle,
was within a march of Vittoria. Wellington knew that King Joseph
intended to take up a position to cover the place, which, with its
vast accumulation of war material and stores, besides a convoy of
treasure recently arrived from France for the payment of the troops,
could not readily be abandoned. And Wellington was confident of a
great victory.
Vittoria stood--as indeed it stands to-day--compactly built on an
eminence, rising up at the end of a plain, or rather basin, some ten
miles long by eight miles broad. To the north of the town the river
Zadorra flows east and west for some miles, until, on approaching
the Morillas range, it takes a sudden bend, almost at right angles,
to the south. Then, through the Pass of Pueblas, it finds its way
to the Ebro. Parallel to the main course of the Zadorra, and at a
distance of some three miles to the north, runs a range of hills; on
the opposite bank, and five miles to its south, is another parallel
range; while the western edge of the basin consists of the Morillas
mountains, pierced at one point--namely, the Pueblas defile.
It was behind this latter range that Wellington, on the 20th June,
had assembled his army. The French defending Vittoria were holding
the line of the Zadorra, intending to bar its passage at all points.
Seven bridges spanned the river, which, though narrow, was deep,
and in most parts flowed between precipitous banks. Reille's corps,
forming the right of the French line, was posted to the north of the
town, with orders to hold the two bridges at Gamara Mayor and Ariaga;
Maransin's brigade, on the extreme left, occupied the southern range
of hills, with the object of guarding that flank and preventing
the passage of the Pueblas defile; while the centre of the enemy's
line of battle extended along the Hermandad ridge. Midway between
this ridge and the Morillas mountains flowed the Zadorra, with four
bridges at no great distance apart. Wellington's plan was soon
formed. Graham, with twenty thousand men, was ordered to march to
the flank and attack Reille; Hill, with another twenty thousand, was
to force the passage of the Pueblas defile, push back Maransin, and
seize the bridge of Nanclares. To the remainder of the army, under
the great commander himself, was allotted the task of pouring over
the Morillas mountains on to the four bridges which lay below, and of
assaulting the enemy's centre.
Dawn of the 21st June was ushered in by showers of rain and
steamy heat. Hill moved forward to attack Maransin, and met with
considerable opposition; but he succeeded in gaining the heights,
in passing his division through the Pueblas defile, and in seizing
the village of Subijana de Alava. Meanwhile Graham had moved wide
away to the left, and the troops of Wellington's main attack had
crossed the Morillas mountains and were nearing the bridges over
the Zadorra--namely, from left to right, Mendoza, Tres Puentes,
Villodas, and Nanclares. All this had taken time, and it was past
noon before the 51st, in the 1st Brigade of the 7th Division, moved
forward for the general assault on the enemy's centre. Picton was in
chief command of this (the left) portion of the attack, and moved
the 3rd and 7th Division rapidly down to the Mendoza bridge, the
passage of which was contested by the enemy's cavalry and infantry,
aided by his artillery. The British had, however, already gained a
footing on the left bank of the river, as, finding that Tres Puentes
was unguarded, Wellington had hurried across it Kempt's brigade of
the Light Division and some hussars. This cleared the way for Picton,
for the riflemen of Kempt's brigade made a spirited attack on the
enemy opposite the Mendoza bridge, which was immediately crossed by a
brigade of the 3rd Division, the remainder of that division and the
7th Division fording the river a little higher up.
The fighting now became severe, as the Frenchmen held tenaciously to
their position on the Hermandad ridge, and raked the assailants with
artillery fire from the village of Margarita, until the 52nd Light
Infantry coming up, charged the enemy out of the village. The 3rd
and Light Divisions then pressed southwards and carried the village
of Ariñez, from which the defenders rapidly withdrew. Thence the
victorious Allies swept east, and followed the French, now ordered
to retire upon Vittoria. Hill had worked his way forward on the
right; the far-distant sounds of Graham's attack on the left could be
distinctly heard through the din of battle; and Wellington knew that
all was going well.
At this juncture King Joseph began to realise the situation; that
his flanks were in imminent danger, and that his centre, still
six miles in front of Vittoria, ran the risk of being cut off and
annihilated; so, unwillingly, he ordered a retirement. And his men,
magnificent soldiers that they were, gave an object-lesson in the
art of defending and retiring from successive positions. The six
miles of country over which the ensuing running fight took place was
undulating, rough, and broken; and the enemy, knowing each ridge,
hillock, and fold in the ground, made every use of such knowledge, so
that resistance was constant. Successive positions were taken up, and
defended with gun and musket, until their defence seemed hopeless;
and each position abandoned told its tale of destruction--of dead and
wounded Frenchmen, and of captured guns. Hour after hour the battle
raged, and at about six o'clock in the evening the enemy made his
last stand on a low ridge, barely a mile from Vittoria, refusing to
acknowledge even then that he was beaten. Here stood eighty guns,
pouring grape and round shot on the assailants, while amongst the
guns and on their flanks the infantry used their muskets with deadly
effect. For the moment the Allies were unable to face the storm,
and the French general, noticing the recoil of the 3rd Division,
and under the impression that he was fighting a rearguard action,
commenced to withdraw the troops on his left flank. But the 4th
Division, observing the movement, rushed headlong on the retiring
body, and carried the position.
Then, and not till then, did King Joseph, watching events from the
town, understand that the day was lost. Up till that moment he had
imagined his centre to be impregnable, his left flank to be secure,
and Reille still holding his ground on the right. Yet there were few
of the inhabitants of Vittoria so sanguine as the king, and early
in the afternoon the roads running east from the town were already
blocked with carriages, carts, and fugitives on foot. Then, when the
centre gave way, panic prevailed; the king ordered the guns to take
the road to Salvatierra; the allied cavalry swept through and round
Vittoria, and the infantry followed with all speed.
Vittoria, not fortified in any way, was evacuated; but Reille still
maintained his position, which he now found to be most dangerous.
Desperate fighting had been going on all day in this part of the
field; Graham's men stormed the two bridges, and carried them, but
only to be driven from them again, and kept at bay by Reille's
guns and infantry soldiers. A deadlock ensued; neither side could
make headway. Then Reille suddenly became aware of the fact that
Wellington's troops were pouring between his rear and the town, and
that the victorious cavalry were threatening to destroy him. In the
nick of time he saw the danger, skilfully disposed his troops, and
with great gallantry fought his way to Metauco, on the Salvatierra
road, where he attempted to form a rearguard to the fugitive French
army. Darkness alone saved him, for the Allies, flushed with victory,
pursued until they could no longer distinguish friend from foe.
In this long battle, fought in the heat of a Spanish summer, almost
six thousand officers and men fell on each side; but the rout of the
enemy was complete, and the French army in the Peninsula had never
experienced a more crushing defeat. All their guns, their depôts of
stores and ammunition, their treasure chest, their wagons, their
records, and in fact everything that they possessed, fell into the
hands of the victors; and the army that fled was a disorganised
rabble, having nothing but the clothes on their backs and the muskets
in their hands.
The 51st, which had been in the thick of the fight all through,
losing some forty-five officers and men, bivouacked that night two
miles from Vittoria, and on the following day joined in the pursuit
of the enemy towards Pampeluna. The Frenchmen were well on the run,
and a rapid pursuit would probably have resulted in their complete
dispersal, and in Wellington's immediate invasion of France. But a
rapid pursuit was found to be impossible, for the reason that, as
so often had been the case before, victory had proved too much for
the Allies. "The night of the battle," wrote Wellington, "instead
of being passed in getting rest and food to prepare the soldiers
for pursuit the following day, was passed by them in looking for
plunder. The consequence was that they were incapable of marching in
pursuit of the enemy and were totally knocked up." Two days later,
he stated that no fewer than eight thousand British soldiers were
absent, and scattered all over the country marauding, and that the
majority of those who remained with their regiments were under the
influence of drink, so that "when marches of over twelve miles were
attempted, the line of route was crowded with stragglers and men
seeking admittance to hospital."
In spite of all this, Wellington started, on the morning of the 22nd
June, with six divisions and the light cavalry, for Salvatierra, and
on the 25th reached Pampeluna, which he immediately blockaded. After
much marching about during the following few weeks, in the endeavour
to clear the whole country of the enemy, the 51st assisted in driving
the fugitives out of the valley of the Bastan, and then followed
towards the Pyrenees, taking up a position at Echallar. During the
last week of July and the first week of August the regiment came in
for some sharp fighting, more especially on the heights above Ostiz,
where it suffered the loss of thirty men, and again at the pass of
Dona Maria. From that time until the end of August the 7th Division
was occupied in watching the passes of Echallar and Zagaramurdi; but
on the 30th it received sudden orders to strike tents and march to
the bridge of Lesaca, for the purpose of covering the operations now
in active progress against San Sebastian.
Previous to this, Marshal Soult, who had relieved King Joseph in
supreme command of the French army in the Pyrenees, had reorganised
his forces, and, towards the end of July, had made a bold but
unsuccessful attempt to relieve the garrison of Pampeluna, being
very severely handled in withdrawing to the Pyrenees, and it was
in his overthrow that the 51st assisted at Ostiz, Dona Maria, and
elsewhere, as mentioned above. The French marshal then took up a
line of defence along the right bank of the Bidassoa, from its
mouth up-stream to the village of Vera (situated at the point where
the river bends almost at right angles), and onwards across the
foothills and ridges of the Pyrenees to St Jean Pied de Port. In
the meantime, Wellington, having disposed his troops so as to watch
Soult all along the line, proceeded with the siege of San Sebastian,
the great fortress standing on the sea-coast, some fifteen miles (as
the crow flies) from Vera. The place was strong, well-provisioned
and well-garrisoned, and Wellington was insufficiently equipped
to reduce it quickly; moreover, Soult's activity necessitated the
employment of large bodies of the allied army at a distance from
the fortress. So much, in fact, was this the case that, towards the
end of July, Wellington was obliged to utilise the services of so
many of the besieging troops elsewhere that he found it necessary to
convert the siege into a simple blockade. When, however, he had got
rid of all these difficulties, and when Soult had been forced back,
Wellington found it possible to renew the siege of San Sebastian.
The heavy guns and other siege necessaries, for which he had waited
for so long, having arrived from England in the middle of August, the
British commander returned to the charge with all the determination
for which he was ever noted. For ten days the great guns battered
the walls, during which period the besiegers suffered severely from
the fire of the enemy's artillery, and were constantly called upon
to repel with the bayonet the sallies of the garrison. To the men
in the trenches it seemed as if the capture of the place was still
far off, but Wellington thought otherwise, and on the 30th August
he issued orders for the assault to take place a little before noon
next day, at the same time instructing the troops covering the siege
to be prepared to frustrate any attempt by Soult to interfere with
the operations. It was for that purpose that the 51st was despatched
with all haste to the Lesaca bridge, and thence sent forward, with
the rest of Inglis's brigade, to support a Portuguese brigade on the
slopes of the Peña de Haya (known to the French as Mount Aya, or Les
Trois Couronnes).
The 31st August was a busy day, not only at San Sebastian itself, but
also with the covering troops, for, as Wellington had anticipated,
Soult made a strenuous effort to interrupt the siege. The country
lying within the bend of the Bidassoa, between Vera and San
Sebastian, was wild and mountainous, with few roads; and within that
bend the covering troops were in position facing approximately east.
Three bridges spanned the river--Behobia, close to its mouth, Vera,
a little above that village, and Lesaca, some three miles higher up
stream. These, therefore, were the principal permanent crossings
available for an attack on the Allies' position from the east, except
that the Behobia bridge was broken and required to be repaired. The
river also, when low, could be forded at two or three points between
Vera and Behobia; and since Soult possessed a pontoon train, he could
throw bridges across the river at other points. Thus the Bidassoa,
in its lower course, presented but a slight obstacle to an advance,
though its passage might cause delay.
Soult's design was to pass some forty thousand across the river
at two different points, each body fighting its way through the
mountains until Oyarzun was reached, when, the whole force having
concentrated, a fresh advance was to be made towards San Sebastian,
some six miles distant. Wellington had foreseen all this, and had
made his dispositions accordingly, watching the lower crossings from
the heights of San Marcial, and the fords and bridges about Vera from
the Peña de Haya--both strong and commanding positions.
Before daylight, Reille, with eighteen thousand men, forded the
river near Behobia, and attacked the Spanish force posted about San
Marcial. Wellington himself arrived on the scene at the critical
moment, and so inspired were the Spaniards by his presence and
exhortations that they fought with the greatest valour, and succeeded
in repulsing the attack--even to driving the French into the river.
While this was in progress, Clausel, with twenty thousand Frenchmen,
crossed by the fords near Vera and assailed the slopes of the Peña
de Haya, held by the 9th Portuguese Brigade, supported by General
Inglis's brigade, with which was the 51st, now commanded by Colonel
Mitchell. Here the French were too strong for the defenders, who,
resisting gallantly, were forced back up the slopes until they
reached the 4th Division, at the foundry of San Antonio. The fight
which ensued was long and bickering, and it was not until two in the
afternoon that Clausel's skirmishers reached San Antonio. Meanwhile
Wellington directed a portion of the Light Division from Santa
Barbara across the Upper Bidassoa, to move by the Lesaca bridge, and,
taking some Spanish troops with them, to reinforce Inglis. Clausel
observing these movements, and fearing for the safety of his left
flank and rear, halted his force and sent to Soult for orders.
The 51st lost heavily in its retirement up the slopes to San
Antonio, having one officer killed and eleven officers wounded,
and upwards of seventy men killed or wounded. Nor was it possible
for the regiment, when forced back out of San Antonio, to take all
their wounded with them, and in connection with this the following
appears in the records of the 51st: "Some of the wounded had to
be left behind, and they, falling into the hands of the French,
discovered that the regiment with which they had been engaged
was the French 51st. Pointing to the common number, the English
soldiers were then received by their captors rather as distressed
comrades than prisoners. Their wants were immediately attended to,
their wounds dressed, and every article of their personal property
carefully preserved for them. In the morning the French commenced
their retreat, and left their grateful prisoners to be reclaimed
by their regiment, which listened with joy to the universal story
of the kindness they had experienced. 'This is the real chivalry
of modern warfare, and robs it of half its horrors.'" At the time
probably neither regiment knew, or remembered, that just a year
before they had been in conflict at the Retiro, in Madrid, when the
eagle of the French 51st had been captured. But this meeting of the
British 51st with the French 51st is not without parallel in the
annals of the Peninsular War, for there are other instances of the
freemasonry of regimental numbers. In the 'Historical Records of the
43rd Light Infantry,' the following incident is related: "In the
evening (December 12, 1813), on calling the roll of the regiment, a
dozen men were reported missing, whereupon Colonel Napier despatched
an officer with a sergeant and patrol in quest. The men were found in
a small house filled with apples, on most amicable terms with about
as many French soldiers--oddly enough, belonging to the Imperial
43rd. The same object, that of securing the tempting fruit, had
impelled both parties to the spot, and all had gone on the apple raid
unarmed. The French, on observing that the English bore '43' on their
breastplates, examined them attentively, cordially shook hands, and
expressed much pleasure in the accidental _rencontre_, asking many
questions as to rations and allowances; and assured them that if
they would accompany them to a post a little way off they would give
them some first-rate brandy. Upon the appearance of the officer, the
Frenchmen, believing themselves prisoners, brought forth the whole of
their spoil as a peace-offering: but he merely pointed to the door,
whence they effected their escape, while the English truants, with
crammed haversacks, were escorted back to their quarters."
In those days the British soldier gloried in the number of his
regiment, and doubtless the French soldier did so also. Under such
circumstances one can easily understand that the number should have
become a bond of union, even between men who when on duty were
ready to bayonet one another. There is no doubt that, apart from
such _entente cordiale_ incidents as the above, the power of the
regimental number was great; the traditions of the regiment were
built up round its number, and when, in 1881, a civilian Secretary
of State for War thought fit to substitute county titles for the old
numbers, he introduced the most unpopular army reform ever devised by
a War Minister. In the eyes of a civilian it may have been a small
matter, but it was a bid to destroy the _esprit de corps_ of half the
army. That it did not seriously affect regiments was due to the fact
that they steered a middle course, styling themselves officially by
their new county titles, and unofficially retaining their ancient
numbers.
But to return to the events of the 30th August 1813: while Clausel
awaited Soult's orders at San Antonio, Reille had renewed the
attack on San Marcial. For some hours the Spaniards continued to
hold their own, but it is doubtful if they could have done so much
longer, when fortunately the elements came to their aid. At about
3 P.M. there fell on the combatants one of the most violent storms
ever experienced even in these lofty mountains, and the tempest of
wind and rain raged for two or three hours, pinning the assailants
to the ground and making further progress absolutely impossible. As
darkness came on Reille succeeded in withdrawing his force across the
river, but Clausel, who had now been ordered by Soult to retire from
San Antonio, was less fortunate, for although he himself with two
brigades succeeded in fording the Bidassoa near Vera, his lieutenant,
General Vandermaesen, with the remainder of the troops, was cut off
by the rising waters. His sole prospect of escape from this perilous
situation was by forcing the passage of the guarded bridge a little
above Vera, and this, during the dark and stormy night, he was
successful in doing, though at the cost of his own life, and with the
loss of nearly three hundred of his men. Soult's attempt, therefore,
to interrupt the operations against San Sebastian had proved a dismal
failure, and while the covering force had been employed in thus
holding the French in check, the great fortress had fallen, after an
assault as desperate and as bloody as that which had won Badajoz in
the previous year.
But Wellington had now cleared up the situation, for, save the
garrison of the castle within San Sebastian, which held out for a
few days longer, and that of Pampeluna, which was kept locked up
until its capitulation in November, no Frenchmen (other than those
of Suchet's corps in Catalonia) tarried beyond the Spanish slopes of
the Pyrenees. It remained for the Allies to drive them through the
mountains into France, and there was still heavy fighting in front of
them.