prisoners, Ducor of the Marines of the Guard, and Gille and Wagré
of Vedel’s division, may be consulted. Their story is deeply
distressing.
So ended the strange and ill-fought campaign of Baylen. It is clear
that Dupont’s misfortunes were of his own creation. He ought never to
have lingered at Andujar till July was far spent, but should either
have massed his three divisions and fallen upon Castaños, or have
retired to a safe defensive position at Baylen or La Carolina and have
waited to be attacked. He might have united something over 20,000 men,
and could have defied every effort of the 35,000 Spaniards to drive
him back over the Sierra Morena. By dividing his army into fractions
and persisting in holding Andujar, he brought ruin upon himself. But
the precise form in which the ruin came about was due less to Dupont
than to Vedel. That officer’s blind and irrational march on La Carolina
and abandonment of Baylen on July 17-18 gave the Spaniards the chance
of interposing between the two halves of the French army. If Vedel had
made a proper reconnaissance on the seventeenth, he would have found
that Reding had not marched for the passes, but was still lingering at
Mengibar. Instead, however, of sweeping the country-side for traces of
the enemy, he credited a wild rumour, and hurried off to La Carolina,
leaving the fatal gap behind him. All that followed was his fault: not
only did he compromise the campaign by his march back to the passes,
but when he had discovered his mistake he returned with a slowness that
was inexcusable. If he had used ordinary diligence he might yet have
saved Dupont on the nineteenth: it was his halt at Guarroman, while
the cannon of Baylen were thundering in his ears, that gave the last
finishing touch to the disaster. If he had come upon the battle-field
at ten in the morning, instead of at five in the afternoon, he could
have aided his chief to cut his way through, and even have inflicted a
heavy blow on Reding and Coupigny. A careful study of Vedel’s actions,
from his first passage of the Sierra Morena to his surrender, shows
that on every possible occasion he took the wrong course.
But even if we grant that Vedel made every possible mistake, it is
nevertheless true that Dupont fought his battle most unskilfully. If
he had marched on the morning instead of the night of July 18, he
probably might have brushed past the front of Reding and Coupigny
without suffering any greater disaster than the loss of his baggage.
Even as things actually fell out, it is not certain that he need have
been forced to surrender. He had 10,000 men, the two Spanish generals
had 17,000, but had been forced to detach some 3,500 bayonets to guard
against the possible reappearance of Vedel. If Dupont had refused
to waste his men in partial and successive attacks, and had massed
them for a vigorous assault on the left wing of the Spaniards, where
Coupigny’s position on the slopes of the Cerrajon was neither very
strong nor very well defined, he might yet have cut his way through,
though probably his immense baggage-train would have been lost. It
is fair, however, to remember that this chance was only granted him
because Castaños, in front of Andujar, was slow to discover his retreat
and still slower to pursue him. If that officer had shown real energy,
ten thousand men might have been pressing Dupont from the rear before
eight o’clock in the morning.
As it was Dupont mismanaged all the details of his attack. He made four
assaults with fractions of his army, and on a long front. The leading
brigades were completely worn out and demoralized before the reserves
were sent into action. The fifth assault, in which every man was at
last brought forward, failed because the majority of the troops were
already convinced that the day was lost, and were no longer capable of
any great exertions. It is absurd to accuse Dupont of cowardice--he
exposed his person freely and was wounded--and still more absurd to
charge him (as did the Emperor) with treason. He did not surrender
till he saw that there was no possible hope of salvation remaining.
But there can be no doubt that he showed great incapacity to grasp the
situation, lost his head, and threw away all his chances.
As to the Spaniards, it can truly be said that they were extremely
fortunate, and that even their mistakes helped them. Castaños framed
his plan for surrounding Dupont on the hypothesis that the main French
army was concentrated at Andujar. If this had indeed been the case,
and Dupont had retained at that place some 15,000 or 17,000 men, the
turning movement of Reding and Coupigny would have been hazardous in
the extreme. But the French general was obliging enough to divide
his force into two equal parts, and his subordinate led away one of
the halves on a wild march back to the passes. Again Reding acted
in the most strange and unskilful way on July 17; after defeating
Liger-Belair and Dufour he ought to have seized Baylen. Instead, he
remained torpid in his camp for a day and a half: this mistake led
to the far more inexcusable error of Vedel, who failed to see his
adversary, and marched off to La Carolina. But Vedel’s blindness does
not excuse Reding’s sloth. On the actual day of battle, on the other
hand, Reding behaved very well: he showed considerable tenacity,
and his troops deserve great credit. It was no mean achievement for
13,000 or 14,000[165] Spaniards, their ranks full of raw recruits
and interspersed with battalions levied only five weeks before, to
withstand the attack of 10,000 French, even if the latter were badly
handled by their general. The Andalusians had good reason to be proud
of their victory, though they might have refrained from calling
Dupont’s Legions of Reserve and provisional regiments the ‘invincible
troops of Austerlitz and Friedland,’ as they were too prone to do. They
had at least succeeded in beating in the open field and capturing a
whole French army, a thing which no continental nation had accomplished
since the wars of the Revolution began.
[165] We must deduct the seven battalions (3,500 or 4,000
men) which had been detached to the rear to watch for Vedel’s
approach, and were never engaged with Dupont’s troops.
NOTE
Sir Charles Vaughan, always in search of first-hand
information, called on Castaños and had a long conversation
with him concerning the Convention. I find among his papers the
following notes:--
‘Among other particulars of the surrender, General Castaños
stated that the French General Marescot had the greatest
influence in bringing it about. The great difficulty was to
persuade them [Marescot and Chabert] to capitulate for Vedel’s
army as well as Dupont’s. A letter had been intercepted
ordering Vedel back to Madrid, and another ordering Dupont to
retire. This letter had considerable effect with the French:
but the offer of carrying away their baggage and the plunder of
the country was no sooner made, than the two generals desired
to be permitted to retire and deliberate alone. After a few
minutes they accepted the proposal. But General Castaños, to
make the article of as little value as possible, got them to
insert the clause that the French officers should be allowed
to embark all their baggage, &c., _according to the laws of
Spain_. He well knew that those laws forbid the exportation
of gold and silver. The consequence was that the French lost
all their more valuable plunder when embarking at Puerto Santa
Maria.’
SECTION IV
THE ENGLISH IN PORTUGAL
CHAPTER I
THE OUTBREAK OF THE PORTUGUESE INSURRECTION
Down to the moment of the general outbreak of the Spanish insurrection
Junot’s task in Portugal had not been a difficult one. As long as Spain
and France were still ostensibly allies, he had at his disposition a
very large army. He had entered Portugal in 1807 with 25,000 French
troops, and during the spring of 1808 he had received 4,000 men in
drafts from Bayonne, which more than filled up the gaps made in his
battalions by the dreary march from Ciudad Rodrigo to Abrantes[166].
Of the three Spanish divisions which had been lent to him, Solano’s
had gone home to Andalusia, but he had still the two others, Caraffa’s
(7,000 strong) in the valley of the Tagus, and Taranco’s at Oporto. The
last-named general died during the winter, but his successor, Belesta,
still commanded 6,000 men cantoned on the banks of the Douro. The
discontent of the Portuguese during the early months of 1808 showed
itself by nothing save a few isolated deeds of violence, provoked by
particular acts of oppression on the part of Junot’s subordinates.
How promptly and severely they were chastised has been told in an
earlier chapter. There were no signs whatever of a general rising: the
means indeed were almost entirely wanting. The regular army had been
disbanded or sent off to France. The organization of the militia had
been dissolved. The greater part of the leading men of the country had
fled to Brazil with the Prince-Regent: the bureaucracy and many of the
clergy had shown a discreditable willingness to conciliate Junot by a
tame subservience to his orders.
[166] See Thiébault, _Expédition de Portugal_, and Foy, iv. 363.
The Duke of Abrantes himself thoroughly enjoyed his Viceroyalty, and
still deluded himself into believing that he might yet prove a popular
ruler in Portugal: perhaps he even dreamed of becoming some day one
of Bonaparte’s vassal-kings. He persisted in the farce of issuing
benevolent proclamations, and expressing his affection for the noble
Portuguese people, till his master at last grew angry. ‘Why,’ he wrote
by the hand of his minister Clarke, ‘do you go on making promises
which you have no authority to carry out? Of course, there is no end
more laudable than that of winning the affection and confidence of
the inhabitants of Portugal. But do not forget that the safety of the
French army is the first thing. Disarm the Portuguese: keep an eye
on the disbanded soldiers, lest reckless leaders should get hold of
them and make them into the nucleus of rebel bands.... Lisbon is an
inconveniently large place: it is too populous, and its people cannot
help being hostile to you. Keep your troops outside it, in cantonments
along the sea-front’: and so forth[167]. Meanwhile financial exactions
were heaped on the unfortunate kingdom to contribute to the huge fine
which the Emperor had laid upon it: but there was evidently no chance
that such a large sum could be raised, however tightly the screw of
taxation might be twisted. Junot accepted, as contributions towards
the £2,000,000 that he was told to raise, much confiscated English
merchandise, church plate, and private property of the royal house, but
his extortions did little more than pay for his army and the expenses
of government. Portugal indeed was in a dismal state: her ports were
blocked and her wines could not be sold to her old customers in
England, nor her manufactures to her Brazilian colonists. The working
classes in Lisbon were thrown out of employment, and starved, or
migrated in bands into the interior. Foy and other good witnesses from
the French side speak of the capital as ‘looking like a desert, with
no vehicles, and hardly a foot-passenger in the streets, save 20,000
persons reduced to beggary and trying vainly to live on alms[168].’ The
only activity visible was in the arsenal and dockyards, where Junot had
10,000 men at work restoring the neglected material of the artillery,
and fitting out that portion of the fleet which had been in too bad
order to sail for Brazil in the previous November.
[167] Compare _Nap. Corresp._, 13,608 and 13,620.
[168] Foy, iv. 273-4.
The sudden outbreak of the Spanish insurrection in the last days of
May, 1808, made an enormous change in the situation of the French
army in Portugal. Before Junot had well realized what was happening in
the neighbouring kingdom, his communications with Madrid were suddenly
cut, and for the future information only reached him with the greatest
difficulty, and orders not at all. The last dispatch that came through
to him was one from the Emperor which spoke of the beginnings of the
rising, and bade him send 4,000 men to Ciudad Rodrigo to hold out a
hand to Bessières, and 8,000 to the Guadiana to co-operate in Dupont’s
projected invasion of Andalusia[169]. These orders were dispatched in
the last days of May; before they could be carried out the situation
had been profoundly modified.
[169] _Nap. Corresp._, 14,023 (from Bayonne, May 29).
On June 6 there arrived at Oporto the news of the insurrection of
Galicia and the establishment of the Provincial Junta at Corunna. The
first thought of the new government in Galicia had been to call home
for its own defence the division in northern Portugal. When its summons
reached General Belesta, he obeyed without a moment’s hesitation. The
only French near him were General Quesnel, the Governor of Oporto, his
staff, and a troop of thirty dragoons which served as his personal
escort. Belesta seized and disarmed both the general and his guard, and
forthwith marched for Spain, by Braga and Valenza, with his prisoners.
Before leaving he called together the notables of Oporto, bade them
hoist the national flag, and incited them to nominate a junta to
organize resistance against Junot. But he left not a man behind to aid
them, and took off his whole force to join General Blake.
On receiving, on June 9, the news of this untoward event, Junot
determined to prevent Caraffa’s troops on the Tagus from following
the example of their countrymen. Before they had fully realized the
situation, or had time to concert measures for a general evasion,
he succeeded in disarming them. Caraffa himself was summoned to the
quarters of the commander-in-chief, and placed under arrest before
he knew that he was suspected. Of his regiments some were ordered to
attend a review, others to change garrisons; while unsuspectingly on
their way, they found themselves surrounded by French troops and were
told to lay down their arms. All were successfully trapped except the
second cavalry regiment, the ‘Queen’s Own,’ whose colonel rode off
to Oporto with his two squadrons instead of obeying the orders sent
him, and fractions of the infantry regiments of Murcia and Valencia
who escaped to Badajoz after an ineffectual pursuit by the French
dragoons. But 6,000 out of Caraffa’s 7,000 men were caught, disarmed,
and placed on pontoons moored under the guns of the Lisbon forts, whose
commanders had orders to sink them if they gave any trouble. Here they
were destined to remain prisoners for the next ten weeks, till the
English arrived to release them after the battle of Vimiero.
The imminent danger that Caraffa’s force might openly revolt, and
serve as the nucleus for a general rising of the Portuguese, was
thus disposed of. But Junot’s position was still unpleasant: he had
only some 26,500 men with whom to hold down the kingdom: if once
the inhabitants took arms, such a force could not supply garrisons
for every corner of a country 300 miles long and a hundred broad.
Moreover, there was considerable probability that the situation might
be complicated by the appearance of an English expeditionary army:
Napoleon had warned his lieutenant to keep a careful watch on the side
of the sea, even before the Spanish insurrection broke out. All through
the spring a British force drawn from Sicily was already hovering
about the southern coast of the Peninsula, though hitherto it had only
been heard of in the direction of Gibraltar and Cadiz. Another cause
of disquietude was the presence in the Tagus of the Russian fleet of
Admiral Siniavin: the strange attitude adopted by that officer much
perplexed Junot. He acknowledged that his master the Czar was at war
with Great Britain, and stated that he was prepared to fight if the
British fleet tried to force the entrance of the Tagus. But on the
other hand he alleged that Russia had not declared war on Portugal or
acknowledged its annexation by the Emperor, and he therefore refused to
land his marines and seamen to help in the garrisoning of Lisbon, or to
allow them to be used in any way on shore. Meanwhile his crews consumed
an inordinate amount of the provisions which were none too plentiful in
the Portuguese capital.
Junot’s main advantage lay in the extreme military impotence of
Portugal. That realm found its one sole centre in Lisbon, where a
tenth of the population of the whole kingdom and half of its wealth
were concentrated. At Lisbon alone was there an arsenal of any size,
or a considerable store of muskets and powder. Without the resources
of the capital the nation was absolutely unable to equip anything fit
to be called an army. Oporto was a small place in comparison, and no
other town in the kingdom had over 20,000 souls. Almeida and Elvas,
the two chief fortresses of the realm, were safe in the hands of French
garrisons. The provinces might rise, but without lavish help from Spain
or England they could not put in the field an army of even 10,000 men,
for assemblies of peasants armed with pikes and fowling-pieces are not
armies, and of field-artillery there was hardly a piece outside Lisbon,
Elvas, and Almeida. Nor was there left any nucleus of trained soldiers
around which the nation might rally: the old army was dissolved and
its small remnant was on the way to the Baltic. The case of Spain and
of Portugal was entirely different when they rose against Napoleon.
The former country was in possession of the greater part of its own
fortresses, had not been systematically disarmed, and could dispose--in
Galicia and Andalusia--of large bodies of veteran troops. Portugal
was without an army, an arsenal, a defensible fortress, or a legal
organization--civil or military--of any kind.
It is necessary to remember this in order to excuse the utter
feebleness of the Portuguese rising in June, 1808. Otherwise it would
have seemed strange that a nation of over 2,000,000 souls could not
anywhere produce forces sufficient to resist for a single day a column
of 3,000 or 4,000 French soldiers.
The insurrection--such as it was--started in the north, where the
departure of Belesta and his division had left the two provinces of
Tras-os-Montes and Entre-Douro-e-Minho free from any garrison, French
or Spanish. Oporto had been bidden to work out its own salvation
by Belesta, and on the day of his departure (June 6), a junta of
insurrection had been acclaimed. But there followed a curious interval
of apathy, lasting for ten days: the natural leaders of the people
refused to come forward: here, just as in Spain, the bureaucracy showed
itself very timid and unpatriotic. The magistrates sent secret offers
of submission to Junot: the military commandant, Oliveira da Costa,
hauled down the national flag from the citadel of San João da Foz. The
members of the insurrectionary junta absconded from the city or kept
quiet[170]. It was only on the news that the neighbouring districts and
towns had risen, that the people of Oporto threw themselves frankly
into the rebellion. The rough mountain districts which lay to the east
of them showed a much more whole-hearted patriotism: between the ninth
and the twelfth of June the whole of the Tras-os-Montes took arms: one
junta at Braganza nominated as commander the aged General Sepulveda,
who had been governor of the district in the days of the Prince-Regent:
another, at Villa Real on the Douro, also put in its claim and chose
as its leader Colonel Silveira, an officer who was destined to see
much service during the war of independence. Though the French were no
further off than Almeida, the rival governors nearly came to blows,
but the final insurrection of Oporto created a new power to which both
consented to bow.
[170] For these incidents, so discreditable to the leading men
of Oporto, see Foy, iv. 206, and Toreño, i. 152. Most Peninsular
historians consign them to oblivion.
On June 18 the false report that a French column was drawing near
Oporto so roused the multitude in that city that they broke loose
from the control of the authorities, rehoisted the Portuguese flag,
threw into prison Da Costa and many other persons suspected, rightly
or wrongly, of a wish to submit to the enemy, and called for the
establishment of a provisional government. Accordingly a ‘Supreme Junta
of the Kingdom’ was hastily elected with the Bishop of Oporto at its
head. This was a strange choice, for the aged prelate, Dom Antonio
de Castro, though popular and patriotic, was neither a statesman
nor an administrator, and had no notion whatever as to the military
necessities of the situation. However, the other local juntas of
Northern Portugal united in recognizing his authority. His colleagues
started on the organization of an army with more zeal than discretion;
they called out the militia which Junot had disbanded, and tried to
reconstruct some of the old regular battalions, by getting together
the half-pay officers, and the men who had been dismissed from the
colours in December, 1807. But they also encouraged the assembly of
thousands of peasants armed with pikes and scythes, who consumed
provisions, but were of no military use whatever. In the seven weeks
which elapsed before the coming of the English, the Supreme Junta had
only got together 5,000 men properly equipped and told off into regular
corps[171]. The fact was that they could provide arms for no more,
Northern Portugal having always looked to Lisbon for its supplies.
Field artillery was almost wholly wanting--perhaps a dozen guns in all
had been found: of cavalry three skeleton regiments were beginning to
be organized. But of half-armed peasantry, disguised under the name of
militia, they had from 12,000 to 15,000 in the field.
[171] They re-embodied the old 2nd, 12th, 21st, and 24th
battalions of infantry of the line, the 6th Cazadores, and the
6th, 11th, and 12th light cavalry, as well as one or two other
old corps whose numbers I cannot identify.
The Supreme Junta also concluded a treaty of offensive and defensive
alliance with the Galician Spaniards, from whom they hoped to get
arms, and perhaps a loan of troops. Moreover they sent two envoys to
England to ask for aid, and eagerly welcomed at Oporto Colonel Brown,
a British agent with a roving commission, who did his best to assist
in organizing the new levies. The command of the whole armed force
was given to General Bernardino Freire, a pretentious and incapable
person, who turned his very moderate resources to no profitable account
whatever.
A few days later than the outbreak of the insurrection in the regions
north of the Douro, there was a corresponding movement, but of a weaker
kind, in the extreme south. On June 16 the small fishing-town of Olhão
in Algarve gave the signal for revolt: on the eighteenth Faro, the
capital of the province, followed the example. General Maurin, the
Governor of Algarve, was lying ill in his bed; he was made prisoner
along with seventy other French officers and men, and handed over to
the captain of an English ship which was hovering off the coast. The
whole shore between the Sierra de Caldeirão and the sea took arms,
whereupon Colonel Maransin, Maurin’s second-in-command, resolved
to evacuate the province. He had only 1,200 men, a battalion each
of the 26th of the line and the _Légion du Midi_, and had lost his
communications with Lisbon, wherefore he drew together his small force
and fell back first on Mertola and then on Beja, in the Alemtejo.
The insurgents whom he left behind him could do little till they had
obtained muskets from Seville and Gibraltar, and made no attempt to
follow the retreating column northwards.
Meanwhile Junot, even after he had succeeded in disarming Caraffa’s
Spanish division, was passing through a most anxious time. In obedience
to the Emperor’s orders he had sent a brigade under General Avril
towards Andalusia, to help Dupont, and another under Loison to Almeida
to open communications with Bessières. But these detachments had
been made under two false ideas, the one that the troubles in Spain
were purely local, the other that Portugal would keep quiet. Avril
marched southward with 3,000 men, but, when his vanguard reached San
Lucar on the Spanish border, he found Andalusian militia provided
with artillery watching him across the Guadiana. He also learnt
that a large force was assembling at Badajoz, and that Dupont had
got no further than Cordova--more than 150 miles away. After some
hesitation he retraced his steps till he halted at Estremoz, facing
Badajoz. Loison had much the same experience: starting from Almeida he
crossed the border and scared away the small Spanish garrison of Fort
Concepcion: but when he drew near Ciudad Rodrigo and learnt that the
place was strongly held, that all the kingdom of Leon was in revolt,
and that Bessières was still far distant in Old Castile, he drew back
to Almeida [June 12-15]. Returning thither he heard of the troubles in
Northern Portugal, and resolved to march on Oporto, which was still
holding back from open insurrection when the news reached him. He
determined to hasten to that important city and to garrison it. Taking
two battalions and a few guns, while he left the rest of his brigade
at Almeida, he marched on Oporto, crossed the Douro at the ferry of
Pezo-de-Ragoa, and began to move on Amarante [June 21]. But the moment
that he was over the river, he found himself in the middle of the
insurrection: among the mountains the peasantry began to fire from
above on his long column, to roll rocks down the slopes at him, and to
harass his baggage and rearguard. Seeing that he had only 2,000 men in
hand, and that the whole country-side was up, Loison wisely returned
to Almeida, which he regained by a circular march through Lamego and
Celorico, dispersing several bands of insurgents on the way, for the
rebellion had already begun to spread across the Douro into the hills
of Northern Beira [July 1].
Lisbon in the meanwhile was on the verge of revolt, but was still
contained by the fact that Junot held concentrated in and about it the
main body of his army, some 15,000 men. On the Feast of Corpus Christi
(June 16) the annual religious procession through the streets nearly
led to bloodshed. This was the greatest festival of Lisbon, and had
always led to the assembly of enormous crowds: Junot allowed it to be
once more celebrated, but lined the streets with soldiers, and placed
artillery ready for action in the main squares and avenues. While the
function was in progress a senseless panic broke out among the crowd,
some shouting that they felt a shock of earthquake (always a terror in
Lisbon since the catastrophe of 1755), others that the English were
landing, others that the soldiers were about to fire on the people.
The frantic mob burst through the military cordon, the procession was
broken up, the prelate who bore the Sacrament took refuge in a church,
and the tumult grew so wild that the artillery were about to open
with grape, thinking that they had to deal with a carefully prepared
insurrection. A great and miscellaneous slaughter was only prevented
by the coolness of Junot, who threw himself into the throng, prevented
the troops from firing, cleared the street, prevailed on the clergy to
finish the procession, and dispersed the multitudes with no loss of
life save that of a few persons crushed or trampled to death in the
panic.
But though this tumult passed off without a disaster, Junot’s position
was uncomfortable. He had just begun to realize the real proportions of
the insurrection in Spain, which had now completely cut him off from
communication with his colleagues. He had only the vaguest knowledge of
how Dupont and Bessières were faring: and the fact that large Spanish
forces were gathering both at Ciudad Rodrigo and at Badajoz inclined
him to think that affairs must be going ill in Castile and Andalusia.
The long-feared English invasion seemed at last to be growing imminent:
General Spencer’s division from Sicily and Gibraltar was at sea, and
had showed itself first off Ayamonte and the coast of Algarve, then off
the Tagus-mouth. Ignorant that Spencer had only 5,000 men, and that he
had been brought near Lisbon merely by a false report that the garrison
had been cut down to a handful, Junot expected a disembarkation. But
Spencer went back to Cadiz when he learnt that there were 15,000
instead of 4,000 men ready to defend the capital.
Meanwhile the populace of Lisbon was stirred up by all manner of wild
rumours: it was said that Loison had been surrounded and forced to
surrender by the northern insurgents, that the Spanish army of Galicia
was marching south, that an English corps had landed at Oporto. All
sorts of portents and signs were reported for the benefit of the
superstitious. The most preposterous was one which we should refuse
to credit if it were not vouched for by Foy, and other respectable
French authorities. A hen’s egg was found on the high-altar of the
patriarchal church, with the inscription _Morran os Franceses_ (‘Death
to the French’) indented in its shell. This caused such excitement
that Junot thought it worth while to show that a similar phenomenon
could be produced on any egg by a skilful application of acids. When
his chemists exhibited several branded in an equally convincing way
with the words, _Vive l’Empereur!_ the enthusiasm of the credulous was
somewhat damped[172].
[172] Foy, iv. 276; Napier, i. 97.
Recognizing that he could expect no further help from the French
armies in Spain, and that the insurrection would certainly spread over
every parish of Portugal that did not contain a garrison, Junot wisely
resolved to concentrate the outlying fractions of his army, which lay
exposed and isolated at points far from Lisbon. At a council of war,
held on June 25, he laid before his chief officers the alternatives
of evacuating Portugal and retiring on Madrid by the way of Badajoz,
or of uniting the army in the neighbourhood of Lisbon and making an
attempt to hold Central Portugal, while abandoning the extreme north
and south. The latter plan was unanimously adopted: in the state
of ignorance in which the generals lay as to what was going on at
Madrid and elsewhere in Spain, the retreat by Badajoz seemed too
hazardous. Moreover, it was certain to provoke Napoleon’s wrath if it
turned out to have been unnecessary. Accordingly it was resolved to
place garrisons in the fortresses of Elvas, Almeida and Peniche, to
fortify Setuval on the peninsula opposite Lisbon, and to draw in all
the rest of the troops to the vicinity of the capital. Dispatches to
this effect were sent to Loison at Almeida, to Avril at Estremoz, to
Maransin at Mertola, and to Kellermann, who was watching Badajoz from
Elvas[173]. Many of the aides-de-camp who bore these orders were cut
off by the insurgents[174], but in the end copies of each dispatch were
transmitted to their destinations. In several instances the detached
corps had begun to fall back on the Tagus, even before they received
the command to do so.
[173] For the twelve resolutions arrived at by the council of
war, see the analysis given by Thiébault, one of its members.
[174] Foy says that of twenty messages sent to Loison only one
got through.
This was the case with Maransin at Mertola, who, finding himself
hopelessly isolated with 1,200 men in the centre of the insurrection,
had marched on Lisbon via Beja. On June 26 he reached the latter place
and found its ancient walls manned by a disorderly mass of citizens,
who fired upon him as he drew near. But he stormed the town without
much difficulty, cruelly sacked it, and resumed his march on Lisbon
unharmed. This was not the first fighting that had occurred in the
Alemtejo; four days before Avril had had to march from Estremoz to
chastise the inhabitants of Villa Viciosa, who had taken arms and
besieged the company of the 86th regiment which garrisoned their town.
He scattered them with much slaughter, and, after the usual French
fashion, plundered the little place from cellar to garret.
On receiving Junot’s orders, General Kellermann, who bore the chief
command in the Alemtejo, left a battalion and a half[175]--1,400
men--in Elvas and its outlying fort of La Lippe. With the rest he
retired on Lisbon, picking up first the corps of Avril and then that of
Maransin, which met him at Evora. He then entered the capital, leaving
only one brigade, that of Graindorge, at Setuval to the south of the
Tagus [July 3].
[175] The 2nd Swiss, and four companies of the 86th regiment.
Loison in the north did not receive his orders for a full week after
they were sent out, owing to the disorderly state of the intervening
country. But on July 4 he left Almeida, after making for it a garrison
of 1,200 men, by drafting into a provisional battalion all his soldiers
who did not seem fit for forced marching. He then moved for seven days
through the mountains of Beira to Abrantes, skirmishing with small
bands of insurgents all the way. At two or three places they tried to
block his path, and the town of Guarda made a serious attempt to defend
itself, and was in consequence sacked and partly burnt. Leaving a trail
of ruined villages behind him, Loison at last reached Abrantes and got
into communication with his chief. He had lost on the way 200 men,
mostly stragglers whom the peasantry murdered: but he had inflicted
such a cruel lesson on the country-side that his popular nickname
(_Maneta_, ‘One-Hand’) was held accursed for many years in Portugal.
The withdrawal of the French troops from the outlying provinces gave
the insurrection full scope for development. It followed close in
the track of the retiring columns, and as each valley was evacuated
its inhabitants hoisted the national flag, sent in their vows of
allegiance to the Junta at Oporto, and began to organize armed bands.
But there was such a dearth of military stores that very few men
could be properly equipped with musket and bayonet. Junot had long
before called in the arms of the disbanded militia, and destroyed
them or forwarded them to Lisbon. In the southern provinces the lack
of weapons was even worse than in the valley of the Douro: there was
practically no armament except a few hundred muskets hastily borrowed
from the Spaniards of Badajoz and Seville, and a small dépôt of
cavalry equipment at Estremoz which Avril had forgotten to carry off.
An insurrectionary junta for the Alemtejo was formed at Evora, but
its general, Francisco Leite, could only succeed in equipping the
mere shadow of an army. In the north things were a little better: the
rising spread to Coimbra in the last week of June, and one of its
first leaders, the student Bernardo Zagalo, succeeded in capturing the
small coast-fortress of Figueira by starving out the scanty French
garrison, which had been caught wholly destitute of provisions [June
27]. Bernardino Freire then brought up the 5,000 regular troops,
which the Junta of Oporto had succeeded in getting together, as far
as the line of the Mondego. But the insurrectionary area spread much
further southward, even up to Leyria and Thomar, which lie no more than
sixty-five miles from the capital. From these two places, however, the
rebels were easily cleared out by a small expedition of 3,000 men under
General Margaron [July 5]. Junot’s army in the second week of July
held nothing outside the narrow quadrangle of which Setuval, Peniche,
Abrantes, and Lisbon form the four points. But within that limited
space there were now 24,000 good troops, concentrated and ready to
strike a blow at the first insurrectionary force that might press in
upon them.
But for a fortnight the Portuguese made no further move, and Junot
now resolved to attack the insurgents who lay beyond the Tagus in the
plains of the Alemtejo. His chief motive seems to have been the wish to
reopen his communications with Elvas, and to keep the way clear towards
Badajoz, the direction in which he would have to retreat, if ever he
made up his mind to evacuate Lisbon and retire on Spain. Accordingly,
on July 25, he sent out the energetic Loison at the head of a strong
flying column--seven and a half battalions, two regiments of dragoons,
and eight guns--over 7,000 men in all[176]. This force was directed
to march on Elvas by way of Evora, the capital of the Alemtejo, and
the seat of its new Junta. On July 29 Loison appeared before the walls
of that city. To his surprise the enemy offered him battle in the
open; General Leite had brought up such of his newly organized troops
as he could collect--they amounted to no more than a battalion and
a half of infantry and 120 horse; but to help him there had come up
from Badajoz the Spanish Colonel Moretti with about the same number of
foot, a regiment of regular cavalry (the ‘Hussars of Maria Luisa’), and
seven guns[177]. In all the allies had under 3,000 men, but they were
presumptuous enough to form a line of battle outside Evora, and wait
for Loison’s attack. A mixed multitude of peasants and citizens, more
of them armed with pikes than with fowling-pieces, manned the walls of
the town behind them. Leite and his colleague should have drawn back
their regulars to the same position: they might have been able to do
something behind walls, but to expose them in the open to the assault
of more than double of their own numbers of French troops was absurd.
[176] The column comprised the following troops:--
Two battalions of Reserve Grenadiers 1,100
12th Léger (3rd batt.) 1,253
15th Léger (3rd batt.) 1,305
58th Line (3rd batt.) 1,428
86th Line, twelve companies of the 1st and 2nd batts. 1,667
1st Hanoverian Legion 804
4th and 5th Provisional Dragoons 1,248
Deducting 1,200 for detached grenadier companies, &c., the whole
was well over 7,000. For details, see Thiébault’s _Expédition de
Portugal_.
[177] The figures of the Portuguese historian, Accursio das
Neves, reproduced in Arteche (ii. 35), seem indubitable, as
they go into minute accounts of the regiments and fractions of
regiments present. It seems clear that the allies had nothing
like the 5,000 regular troops of which Foy speaks (iv. 267-8).
Loison’s first charge broke the weak line of the allied army; the
Spanish cavalry fled without crossing swords with the French, and
General Leite left the field with equal precipitation. But the bulk
of the infantry fell back on Evora and aided the peasantry to defend
its ruined mediaeval walls. They could not hold out, however, for
many minutes; the French forced their way in at four or five points,
made a great slaughter in the streets, and ended the day by sacking
the city with every detail of sacrilege and brutality. Foy says that
2,000 Spaniards and Portuguese fell; his colleague Thiébault gives the
incredible figure of 8,000. Even the smaller number must include a good
many unarmed inhabitants of Evora massacred during the sack. The French
lost ninety killed and 200 wounded [July 29].
On the third day after the fight Loison marched for Elvas, and drove
away the hordes which were blockading it. He was then preparing to
push a reconnaissance in force against Badajoz, when he received
from his commander-in-chief orders to return at once to Lisbon. The
long-expected English invasion of Portugal had at last begun, for on
August 1 Sir Arthur Wellesley was already disembarking his troops
in Mondego Bay. Junot was therefore set on concentrating in order to
fight, and Loison’s expeditionary force was too important a part of
his army to be left out of the battle. Dropping the battalion of the
Hanoverian Legion as a garrison at Santarem, Loison brought the rest of
his 7,000 men to his commander’s aid.
SECTION IV: CHAPTER II
LANDING OF THE BRITISH: COMBAT OF ROLIÇA
From the first moment when the Asturian deputies arrived in London,
with the news of the insurrection in Northern Spain [June 4], the
English Government had been eager to intervene in the Peninsula.
The history of the last fifteen years was full of the records of
unfortunate expeditions sent out to aid national risings, real or
imaginary, against France. They had mostly turned out disastrous
failures: it is only necessary to mention the Duke of York’s miserable
campaign of 1799 in Holland, Stewart’s invasion of Calabria in 1806,
and Whitelock’s disgraceful fiasco at Buenos Ayres in 1807. As a rule
the causes of their ill success had been partly incapable leading,
partly an exaggerated parsimony in the means employed. Considering the
vast power of France, it was futile to throw ashore bodies of five
thousand, ten thousand, or even twenty thousand men on the Continent,
and to expect them to maintain themselves by the aid of small local
insurrections, such as those of the Orange party in Holland or the
Calabrian mountaineers. The invasion of Spanish South America, on the
hypothesis that its inhabitants were all prepared to revolt against the
mother-country--a fiction of General Miranda--had been even more unwise.
The ‘policy of filching sugar islands,’ as Sheridan wittily called
it--of sending out expeditions of moderate size, which only inflicted
pin-pricks on non-vital portions of the enemy’s dominions--was still
in full favour when the Spanish War began. There was hardly a British
statesman who rose above such ideas; Pitt and Addington, Fox and
Grenville, and the existing Tory government of the Duke of Portland,
had all persisted in the same futile plans. At the best such warfare
resulted in the picking up of stray colonies, such as Ceylon and
Trinidad, the Cape, St. Thomas, or Curaçao: but in 1808 the more
important oversea possessions of France and her allies were still
unsubdued. At the worst the policy led to checks and disasters small
or great, like Duckworth’s failure at Constantinople, the abortive
Egyptian expedition of 1807, or the catastrophe of Buenos Ayres.
Castlereagh seems to have been the only leading man who dared to
contemplate an interference on a large scale in Continental campaigns.
His bold scheme for the landing of 60,000 men in Hanover, during the
winter of 1805-6, had been foiled partly by the hesitation of his
colleagues, partly by the precipitation with which Francis II made
peace after Austerlitz[178].
[178] This fine and not unpromising scheme deserves study (see
Alison’s _Life of Castlereagh_, i. 199-202).
But the policy of sending small auxiliary forces to the Iberian
Peninsula was quite a familiar one. We had maintained a few thousand
men under Generals Burgoyne and Townsend for the defence of Portugal
against Spain in 1762. And again in 1801 there had been a small
British division employed in the farcical war which had ended in
the Treaty of Badajoz. In the year after Austerlitz, when it seemed
likely that Bonaparte might take active measures against Portugal,
the Fox-Grenville ministry had offered the Regent military aid, but
had seen it politely refused, for the timid prince was still set on
conciliating the Emperor.
With so many precedents before them, it was natural that the Portland
cabinet should assent to the demands of the Spanish deputies who
appeared in London in June, 1808. The insurrection in the Iberian
Peninsula was so unexpected[179] and so fortunate a chance, that it
was obviously necessary to turn it to account. Moreover, its attendant
circumstances were well calculated to rouse enthusiasm even in the
breasts of professional politicians. Here was the first serious sign
of that national rising against Bonaparte which had been so often
prophesied, but which had been so long in coming. Even the Whigs,
who had systematically denounced the sending of aid to the ‘effete
despotisms of the Continent,’ and had long maintained that Napoleon
was not so black as he was painted, were disarmed in their criticisms
by the character of the Spanish rising. What excuse could be made for
the treachery at Bayonne? And how could sympathy be refused to a people
which, deprived of its sovereign and betrayed by its bureaucracy,
had so gallantly taken arms to defend its national existence? The
debates in the British Parliament during the middle days of June show
clearly that both the Government and the Opposition had grasped the
situation, and that for once they were united as to the policy which
should be pursued. It is only needful to quote a few sentences from the
speeches of Canning as Foreign Secretary, and Sheridan as Leader of the
Opposition [June 15].
[179] I cannot quite credit the story that Toreño and Arteche
repeat of Pitt’s dying prophecy, that ‘Napoleon could only be
overthrown by a national war, and that such a war would probably
begin in Spain.’
‘Whenever any nation in Europe,’ said Canning, ‘starts up with a
determination to oppose that power which (whether professing insidious
peace or declaring open war) is alike the common enemy of all other
peoples, that nation, whatever its former relations with us may have
been, becomes _ipso facto_ the ally of Great Britain. In furnishing
the aid which may be required, the Government will be guided by three
principles--to direct the united efforts of both countries against the
common foe, to direct them in such a way as shall be most beneficial
to our common ally, and to direct them to such objects as may be
most conducive to British interests. But of these objects the last
shall never be allowed to come into competition with the other two. I
mention British interests chiefly for the purpose of disclaiming them
as any material part of the considerations which influence the British
Government. No interest can be so purely British as Spanish success:
no conquest so advantageous to England as conquering from France the
complete integrity of the Spanish dominions in every quarter of the
globe.’
Sheridan repeats the same theme in a slightly different key:--‘Hitherto
Buonaparte has run a victorious race, because he has contended with
princes without dignity, ministers without wisdom, and peoples without
patriotism. He has yet to learn what it is to combat a nation who are
animated with one spirit against him. Now is the time to stand up
boldly and fairly for the deliverance of Europe, and if the ministry
will co-operate effectually with the Spanish patriots they shall
receive from us cordial support.... Never was anything so brave, so
noble, so generous as the conduct of the Spaniards: never was there a
more important crisis than that which their patriotism has occasioned
to the state of Europe. Instead of striking at the core of the evil,
the Administrations of this country have hitherto gone on nibbling
merely at the rind: filching sugar islands, but neglecting all that was
dignified and consonant to the real interests of the country. Now is
the moment to let the world know that we are resolved to stand up for
the salvation of Europe. Let us then co-operate with the Spaniards, but
co-operate in an effectual and energetic way. And if we find that they
are really heart and soul in the enterprise, let us advance with them,
magnanimous and undaunted, for the liberation of mankind.... Above all,
let us mix no little interests of our own in this mighty combat. Let us
discard or forget British objects, and conduct the war on the principle
of generous support and active co-operation.’
It may perhaps be hypercritical to point out the weak spot in each
of these stirring harangues. But Canning protested a little too
much--within a few weeks of his speech the British Government was
applying to the Junta of Seville to allow them to garrison Cadiz,
which was refused (and rightly), for in the proposal British interests
peeped out a little too clearly. And Sheridan, speaking from vague and
overcoloured reports of the state of affairs in the Peninsula, went too
far when he extolled the unmixed generosity and nobility of the conduct
of the Spaniards: mingled with their undoubted patriotism there was
enough of bigotry and cruelty, of self-seeking and ignorance, to make
his harangue ring somewhat false in the ears of future generations. Yet
both Canning and Sheridan spoke from the heart, and their declarations
mark a very real turning-point in the history of the great struggle
with Bonaparte.
Fortunately for Great Britain, and for the nations of the Iberian
Peninsula, we were far better prepared for striking a heavy blow on
the Continent in 1808 than we had been at any earlier period of the
war. There was no longer any need to keep masses of men ready in the
south-eastern counties for the defence of England against a French
invasion. There were no longer any French forces of appreciable
strength garrisoned along the English Channel: indeed Castlereagh
had just been planning a raid to burn the almost unprotected French
flotilla which still mouldered in the harbour of Boulogne. Our
standing army had recently been strengthened and reorganized by a not
inconsiderable military reform. The system had just been introduced by
which Wellington’s host was destined to be recruited during the next
six years. Every year two-fifths of the 120,000 embodied militia of
the United Kingdom were to be allowed to volunteer into the regular
army, while the places of the volunteers were filled up by men raised
by ballot from the counties. This sort of limited conscription worked
well: in the year 1808 it gave 41,786 men to the line, and these
not raw recruits, but already more or less trained to arms by their
service in the militia. All through the war this system continued: the
Peninsular army, it must always be remembered, drew more than half its
reinforcing drafts from the ‘old constitutional force.’ Hence came the
ease with which it assimilated its recruits. Meanwhile the embodied
militia never fell short in establishment, as it was automatically
replenished by the ballot. The result of these changes, for which
Castlereagh deserves the chief credit, was a permanent addition of
25,000 men to the regular force available for service at home or in
Europe.
In June, 1808, there chanced to be several considerable bodies of
troops which could be promptly utilized for an expedition to Spain. The
most important was a corps of some 9,000 men which was being collected
in the south of Ireland, to renew the attack on South America which had
failed so disastrously in 1807. The news of the Spanish insurrection
had, of course, led to the abandonment of the design, and General
Miranda, its originator, had been informed that he must look for no
further support from England. In addition to this force in Ireland
there were a couple of brigades in the south-eastern counties of
England, which had been intended to form the nucleus of Castlereagh’s
projected raid on Boulogne. They had been concentrated at Harwich
and Ramsgate respectively, and the transports for them were ready. A
still more important contingent, but one that lay further off, and was
not so immediately available, was the corps of 10,000 men which Sir
John Moore had taken to the Baltic. In June it became known that it
was impossible to co-operate with the hairbrained King of Sweden, who
was bent on invading Russian Finland, a scheme to which the British
Ministry refused its assent. Moore, therefore, after many stormy
interviews with Gustavus IV, was preparing to bring his division home.
With the aid of Spencer’s troops, which had so long been hovering about
Cadiz and Gibraltar, and of certain regiments picked out of the English
garrisons, it was easily possible to provide 40,000 men for service in
Spain and Portugal.
But a number of isolated brigades and battalions suddenly thrown
together do not form an army, and though Castlereagh had provided a
large force for the projected expedition to the Peninsula, it was
destitute of any proper organization. With the expedition that sailed
from Cork there was only half a regiment of cavalry, and the brigades
from Harwich, Ramsgate, and Gibraltar had not a single horseman with
them, so that there were actually 18,000 foot to 390 horse among the
contingents that first disembarked to contend with Junot’s army.
Transport was almost equally neglected: only the troops from Cork had
any military train with them, and that they were provided with horses
and vehicles was only due to the prescience of their commander, who had
at the last moment procured leave from London to enlist for foreign
service and take with him two troops of the ‘Royal Irish Corps of
Wagoners.’ ‘I declare,’ wrote Wellesley, ‘that I do not understand the
principles on which our military establishments are formed, if, when
large corps are sent out to perform important and difficult services,
they are not to have with them those means of equipment which they
require, such as horses to draw artillery, and drivers attached to
the commissariat[180].’ Without this wise inspiration, he would have
found himself unable to move when he arrived in the Peninsula: as it
was, he had to leave behind, when he landed, some of his guns and half
his small force of cavalry, because the authorities had chosen to
believe that both draft and saddle horses could readily be procured
in Portugal. Such little _contretemps_ were common in the days when
Frederick Duke of York, with the occasional assistance of Mrs. Mary Ann
Clark, managed the British army.
[180] Wellesley to Castlereagh, June 29, 1808 (_Well. Suppl.
Disp._, vi. 87).
But the arrangements as to the command of the expedition were the
most ill-managed part of the business. The force at Cork was,
as we have already explained, under the orders of Sir Arthur
Wellesley, the younger brother of the great viceroy who had so much
extended our Indian Empire between 1799 and 1805. He was the junior
lieutenant-general in the British army, but had already to his credit
a more brilliant series of victories than any other officer then
living, including the all-important triumph of Assaye, which had so
effectually broken the power of the Mahrattas. In 1808 he was a Member
of Parliament and Under-Secretary for Ireland, but Castlereagh (who
had the most unbounded belief in his abilities, and had long been
using his advice on military questions) had picked him out to command
the expedition mustering at Cork. When its destination was changed
from America to Spain, the Secretary for War still hoped to keep him
in command, but the Duke of York and the War Office were against
Wellesley[181]. There were many respectable lieutenant-generals of
enormous seniority and powerful connexions who were eager for foreign
service. None of them had Wellesley’s experience of war on a large
scale, or had ever moved 40,000 men on the field: but this counted for
little at head quarters. The command in Portugal was made over to two
of his seniors. The first was Sir Hew Dalrymple, a man of fifty-eight,
whose only campaigning had been with the Duke of York in Flanders
thirteen years back. He had been Governor of Gibraltar since 1806, knew
something of Spanish politics, and was now in active communication with
Castaños. The second in command was to be Sir Harry Burrard[182]: he
was an old Guards officer who had served during the American rebellion,
and had more recently commanded a division during the Copenhagen
expedition without any special distinction. The third was Sir John
Moore, and to being superseded by him Wellesley could not reasonably
have objected. He was at this moment perhaps the most distinguished
officer in the British service: he had done splendid work in the West
Indies, Egypt, and the Netherlands. He had reorganized the light
infantry tactics of the British army, and had won the enthusiastic
admiration of all who had ever served under him for his zeal and
intelligent activity. But Moore, like Wellesley, was to be placed under
Dalrymple and Burrard, and not trusted with an independent command. At
the present moment he was still far away in the Baltic, and was not
expected to arrive for some time. Meanwhile Wellesley was allowed to
sail in temporary charge of the expeditionary force, and still under
the impression that he was to retain its guidance. His transports
weighed anchor on July 12, and it was only on July 15 that the dispatch
from Downing Street, informing him that he had been superseded by
Dalrymple and Burrard, was drafted. It did not reach him till he had
already landed in Portugal.
[181] For hints on this subject see the letter of W. Wellesley
Pole, a kinsman of Sir Arthur, in _Wellington Supplementary
Dispatches_ (vi. 171). ‘The desire that has been manifested at
Head Quarters for active command will render it natural for all
that has passed to be seen through a false medium.... The object
of Head Quarters, if it has any object at all, must be to keep
down the officer for whom the army has the greatest enthusiasm,
and to prevent him from being called by the voice of the nation
to the head of the forces upon active service, rather than to
crush old officers of known incapacity and want of following....
Dalrymple is a Guardsman; Burrard is a Guardsman; their
connexions are closely united to Windsor and Whitehall, and for
years have not only been in the most confidential situation about
Head Quarters, but have imbibed all their military notions from
thence;’ &c.
[182] Born in 1755, he was a favourite of the Duke of York, and
had acted as his aide-de-camp. At this moment he held a command
in the Home District.
His political instructions had been forwarded as early as June 30.
They were drawn up mainly on the data that the Asturian and Galician
deputations had furnished to the ministry[183]. Both the Juntas had
been unwise enough to believe that the national rising would suffice
to expel the French--whose numbers they much underrated--from Spain.
While empowering their envoys to ask for money, arms, and stores,
they had ordered them to decline the offer of an auxiliary force.
They requested that all available British troops might be directed on
Portugal, in order to rouse an insurrection in that country (which was
still quiet when they arrived in London), and to prevent the troops
of Junot from being employed against the rear of the army of General
Blake. In deference to their suggestions the British Government had
sent enormous stores of muskets, powder, and equipment to Gihon and
Ferrol, but directed Wellesley to confine his activity to Portugal.
The Spaniards, with their usual inaccuracy, had estimated the total
of Junot’s army at no more than 15,000 men. Misled by this absurd
undervaluation, Castlereagh informed Wellesley that if he found that
his own and Spencer’s forces sufficed for the reduction of Portugal,
he might ‘operate against the Tagus’ at once. But if more men were
required, an additional 10,000 bayonets would be provided from England,
and the expeditionary force might meanwhile ask the leave of the
Galician Junta to stop at Vigo--a halt which would have cost many weeks
of valuable time. Wellesley himself was to choose a fast-sailing vessel
and make for Corunna, where he was to confer with the Junta and pick up
the latest information as to the state of affairs in the Peninsula.
[183] Castlereagh to Wellington (_Well. Disp._, iv. 8, 9).
In accordance with these instructions Sir Arthur preceded the bulk
of his armament on the _Crocodile_, and reached Corunna in the short
space of eight days [July 20]. He found the Galicians somewhat
depressed by the disaster of Medina de Rio Seco, whose details they
misrepresented in the most shameless fashion to their distinguished
visitor. Bessières, they said, had lost 7,000 men and six guns, and
although he had forced Blake and Cuesta to retreat on Benavente,
those generals had still 40,000 troops under arms, and had no need
of any auxiliary force. ‘The arrival of the British money yesterday
has entirely renewed their spirits,’ wrote Wellesley, ‘and neither
in them nor in the inhabitants of this town do I see any symptom of
alarm, or doubt of their final success.’ This vainglorious confidence
was supported by an infinity of false news: Lefebvre-Desnouettes was
said to have been thrice defeated near Saragossa, and Dupont and his
whole corps had been taken prisoners on June 22 in an action between
Andujar and La Carolina--a curious prophecy, for it foresaw and placed
a month too early the catastrophe of Baylen[184], which no reasonable
man could have predicted. Almost the only correct information which
was supplied to Wellesley was the news of the revolt of Oporto and the
rest of Northern Portugal. It was clear that there was now an opening
for the British army in that country, and as the Galicians continued to
display their reluctance to receive any military aid, Sir Arthur went
to sea again, joined his fleet of transports off Cape Finisterre, and
bade them make for the mouth of the Douro. He himself put into Oporto,
where he landed and interviewed the Bishop and the Supreme Junta. He
found them in no very happy frame of mind: they had, as they confessed,
only been able to arm 5,000 infantry and 300 cavalry, who lay under
Bernardino Freire at Coimbra, and 1,500 men more for a garrison at
Oporto. The rest of these levies consisted of 12,000 peasants with
pikes, ‘and though the people were ready and desirous to take arms,
unfortunately there were none in the country’--not even enough to equip
the disbanded regulars. The Bishop expressed himself as much alarmed
at the news of the disaster at Medina de Rio Seco, and his military
advisers acknowledged that in consequence of that battle they had given
up any hope of aid from Spain[185]. They asked eagerly for arms, of
which the English fleet carried many thousand stand, and were anxious
to see Wellesley’s troops landed. The place which they recommended for
putting the army ashore was Mondego Bay, near Coimbra, where the mouth
of the Mondego River furnishes an indifferent harbour, guarded by the
fort of Figueira. That stronghold, it will be remembered, had been
seized by the bold exploit of the student Zagalo; it was now garrisoned
by 300 British marines, so that the disembarkation would be safe from
disturbance by anything save the heavy Atlantic surf, which always
beats against the western coast of Portugal. There was no other port
available along the shore save Peniche, which was dangerously close to
Lisbon, and guarded by a castle still in French hands. Nearer still
to the capital, landing is just possible at Cascaes and a few other
places: but there was no regular harbour, and Admiral Cotton agreed
with Wellesley in thinking that it would be mad to attempt to throw
troops ashore on a dangerous rock-bound coast in the midst of Junot’s
cantonments. Mondego Bay was therefore appointed as the general place
of rendezvous for the fleet, which had now begun to arrive opposite the
mouth of the Douro.
[184] Wellesley to Castlereagh, from Corunna, July 21 (_Well.
Disp._, vi. 23-5).
[185] Napier’s statement that Wellesley found the Supreme Junta
in an extravagant and irrational frame of mind is by no means
borne out by the dispatches which he sent off from Oporto on
July 25. They rather represent the Portuguese as in a state of
pronounced depression of spirits.
As to the Portuguese troops, the Supreme Junta agreed that Bernardino
Freire and his 5,000 men should go forward with the British army,
while the new levies should blockade Almeida, and guard the frontier
along the Douro against any possible advance on the part of Marshal
Bessières from Castile. The Junta calculated that, if supplied with
arms, they could put into the field from the three northern provinces
of Portugal 38,000 foot and 8,000 horse--a liberal estimate, as they
had, including their peasant levies, no more than 19,000 collected on
July 25. They asked for weapons and clothing for the whole mass, and
for a loan of 300,000 Cruzado Novas (about £35,000)--no very large sum
considering the grants that were being made to the Spaniards at this
time. Wellesley would only promise that he would arm the militia and
peasantry who were lying along the Mondego in company with Freire’s
regulars, ‘if he found them worth it[186].’ The Bishop undertook
to forward from Oporto all the remounts for cavalry and all the
draught-mules for commissariat purposes that he could get together. He
thought that he could procure 150 of the former and 500 of the latter
in six days.
[186] Wellesley to Castlereagh, from Oporto, July 25 (_Well.
Disp._, vi. 31).
On August 1, 1808, the disembarkation in Mondego Bay began, in the
face of a heavy surf which rendered landing very dangerous, especially
for the horses, guns, and stores. Many boats were upset and a few
lives lost[187]; but the troops and their commander were in good
spirits, for the news of the surrender of Dupont at Baylen on July 20
had reached them the day before the disembarkation began. Wellesley
was convinced that General Spencer would have sailed from Andalusia
to join him, the moment that this great victory made the presence of
British troops in the south unnecessary. He was right, for Spencer,
before receiving any orders to that effect, had embarked his men for
Portugal and came into Mondego Bay on August 5, just as the last of the
division from Cork had been placed on shore. It was therefore with some
13,000 men that Wellesley began his march on Lisbon[188]. But to his
bitter disappointment the young lieutenant-general had just learnt that
three commanders had been placed over his head, and that he might soon
expect Dalrymple to arrive and assume charge of the army. Castlereagh’s
dispatch of July 15, containing this unwelcome news, was delivered to
Wellesley as he lay in Mondego Bay on the thirtieth, and he had to make
all his arrangements for disembarkation while suffering under this
unexpected slight. Many men would have resigned under such a blow, and
Wellesley with his unbounded ambition, his strong sense of his deserts,
and his well-marked tendency to take offence[189] must have been
boiling over with suppressed indignation. But he felt that to ask to be
recalled, because he had been degraded from a commander-in-chief to a
mere general of division, would be an unsoldierly act. To Castlereagh
he merely wrote that ‘whether he was to command the army or to quit
it, he would do his best to ensure its success, and would not hurry
operations one moment in order to acquire credit before the arrival of
his superiors[190].’
[187] For the difficulties of disembarkation see the interesting
narrative of Landsheit of the 20th Dragoons, p. 248. He was
himself upset in the surf.
[188] The force consisted of:--
_Infantry._
_Cavalry._
_Artillery._
(1) Division embarked at Cork:
20th Light Dragoons (only 180 with horses) 394
Artillery 226
5th Regiment (1st batt.) 990
9th ” ” 833
36th ” 591
38th ” (1st batt.) 957
40th ” ” 926
45th ” ” 670
60th Rifles (5th batt.) 936
71st Regiment (1st batt.) 903
91st ” ” 917
95th Rifles (2nd batt., four companies) 400
-----
8,123
-----
(2) Spencer’s troops from Andalusia:
Artillery 245
6th Regiment (1st batt.) 946
29th ” 806
32nd ” (1st batt.) 874
50th ” ” 948
82nd ” ” 929
----- --- ---
4,503 394 471
A total of 12,626 infantry, 394 cavalry, 471 artillery = 13,491;
adding forty-five men of the Staff Corps we get 13,536.
[189] To understand what Wellesley must have felt, we have only
to read his rather captious letter of 1801 (_Suppl. Disp._, ii.
362) to his own brother concerning his merits, his promotion, and
his career. The man who could so write must have felt the blow in
the worst way.
[190] _Well. Disp._, iv. 43.
Meanwhile there were yet a few days during which he would retain the
command, and it was in his power to start the campaign on the right
lines, even if he was not to reap the reward of its success. His first
eight days on shore (August 2-9), were spent in the organization of the
commissariat of his army, which the Home Government had disgracefully
neglected. Except the two troops of the Irish Wagon Train, which he had
insisted on bringing with him, he had no transport at his disposal,
and, as he wrote to Castlereagh, ‘the existence of the army depends
upon the commissariat, and yet the people who manage it are incapable
of managing anything out of a counting-house[191].’ All that could
be got out of the country he utilized: the Bishop of Oporto had sent
him a few horses which enabled him to raise his force of mounted men
from 180 to 240[192], and to give some animals to the artillery[5], to
add to those that had come from Ireland[193]. But though he succeeded
in equipping his own three batteries, the two which Spencer brought
from Andalusia had to be left behind on the Mondego for want of
draught-horses[194]: the dismounted men of the 20th Dragoons had also
to be dropped. For the commissariat the Bishop of Oporto had sent
some mules, which were raised to a total of 500 by purchases in the
country-side, while 300 bullock-carts were procured for the heavier
stores by requisition from the neighbouring villages. It was only
on the ninth that things were so far ready that the army could move
forward. It was now divided into six small brigades under Generals
Hill, Ferguson, Nightingale, Bowes, Catlin Crawfurd, and Fane: the
third, fourth, and fifth brigades had only two battalions each, the
other four had three[195].
[191] Ibid., iv. 59; cf. pp. 168, 169.
[192] Ibid., iv. 168. Cf. the returns for Vimiero of men present,
with the 180 horsed men brought from Ireland.
[193] Ibid., iv. 168.
[194] Ibid., iv. 59.
[195] The brigading was as follows:--1st Brigade (Hill), 5th,
9th, 38th; 2nd Brigade (Ferguson), 36th, 40th, 71st; 3rd Brigade
(Nightingale), 29th, 82nd; 4th Brigade (Bowes), 6th, 32nd; 5th
Brigade (C. Crawfurd), 50th, 91st; 6th Brigade (Fane), 45th,
5/60th, 2/95th. Before Vimiero the 45th and 50th changed places
(see the narrative of Col. Leach of Fane’s Brigade). It is worth
noting that six of these sixteen battalions, as also the 20th
Light Dragoons, had just returned from the disheartening work of
the Buenos Ayres expedition. They were the 5th, 36th, 38th, 40th,
45th, and 71st.
Wellesley had resolved to advance by the coast-road on Lisbon, via
Alcobaça, Obidos, and Torres Vedras, and it was along the desolate
shore ‘up to the knees in sand and suffering dreadfully from
thirst[196],’ that his men made their first march of twelve miles to
Lugar. The distance was moderate, but the troops had been so long
cramped on shipboard that some of the regiments had fallen out of
condition and left many stragglers.
[196] _Journal of a Soldier of the 71st Regiment_ (Edin. 1828),
p. 47.
The reasons which had determined Wellesley to take the coast route,
rather than that which leads from the Mondego to Lisbon via Santarem,
were, as he afterwards explained, partly a wish to keep in touch with
the fleet for the purpose of obtaining supplies--for he found that
the country could support him in wine and beef, but not in flour--and
partly the fact that he had learnt that new reinforcements from England
were likely to appear within a few days. The brigades from Harwich and
Ramsgate, under Generals Acland and Anstruther, had sailed on July
19 and might be looked for at any moment. Sir John Moore, with the
division from Sweden, was also reported to be on his way to the south,
but could not be expected to arrive for some time. Having ascertained
that the French force in Portugal was somewhat larger than he
originally supposed, Sir Arthur wished to pick up the troops of Acland
and Anstruther before giving battle. In this he was even wiser than he
knew, for he still estimated Junot’s total disposable force at 18,000
men[197], while it was really 26,000. To have attacked Lisbon with no
more than the 13,000 troops who had originally disembarked at the mouth
of the Mondego would have been most hazardous.
[197] Wellesley to Burrard, August 8 (_Well. Disp._, iv. 53).
Wellesley had at first intended to take on with him the whole of
Bernardino Freire’s army. He had visited the Portuguese commander at
Montemor Velho on the seventh, and had issued to his ally a supply
of 5,000 muskets. Freire was anxious to persuade him to give up the
coast route, and to throw himself into the interior on the side of
Santarem. But the cogent reasons which compelled him to prefer the
road which allowed him to keep in touch with the fleet, made him
refuse to listen to this plan, and he invited the Portuguese general
to transfer himself on to the same line. Freire so far submitted as to
move to Leiria, where he met the British army on August 10. But here
the two commanders came to hard words and parted. Freire, a self-willed
and shifty man, was determined not to act in unison with Wellesley.
Whether he wished to preserve his independent command, or whether he
feared (as Napier hints) to oppose his raw levies to the French, even
when supported by 13,000 British bayonets[198], he now showed himself
utterly impracticable. He began by laying hands on all the stores of
food in Leiria, though they had been promised to Wellesley. Then he
made the absurd and impudent statement that he could only co-operate
with his allies if Wellesley would undertake to provide rations for his
6,000 men. This proposal was all the more astounding because he had
just been trying to persuade his colleague to move into the inland, by
the statement that resources of every kind abounded in Estremadura, and
that the whole British army could easily live upon the country-side!
Wellesley’s men had now been subsisting for ten days on biscuit landed
by the fleet, and it was ludicrous that he should be asked to take
upon his shoulders the whole burden of feeding the Portuguese in their
own country. Accordingly he utterly rejected the proposal, but he
insisted that Freire should lend him some cavalry and light troops, and
these he promised to maintain. The bulk of the Portuguese, therefore,
remained behind at Leiria, their general being left free to take up,
if he should choose, his favourite plan of marching on Santarem. But
260 horsemen--the skeletons of three old cavalry regiments--a battalion
of Cazadores, and three weak line-regiments were placed at Wellesley’s
disposition: they amounted to about 2,300 men[199], according to the
Portuguese official figures, but the British commander repeatedly
states that he saw no more than 260 horse and 1,600 infantry[200]; so
it is probable that the regiments were somewhat under the estimate
given by Freire. They were commanded by Colonel Trant, a British
officer in the Portuguese service[201].
[198] Napier, i. 197.
[199] According to the figures given by the Portuguese historian
of the war, Da Luz Soriano, they stood as follows:--
Cavalry of the 6th, 11th, and 12th Regiments 258 sabres.
6th battalion of Cazadores 562 bayonets.
12th, 21st, and 24th line battalions 1,514 ”
A few troopers of the Lisbon Police Guard, forty-one in all,
according to Soriano, deserted Junot and joined the army
before Vimiero. Landsheit of the 20th Light Dragoons mentions
their arrival, and says that they were put in company with his
regiment. This would give 2,375 as the total of the Portuguese
whom Trant commanded.
[200] _Well. Disp._ (iv. 78) says 1,400, but in his narrative of
Roliça Sir Arthur accounts for 1,600, 1,200 in his right and 400
in his centre column. As a middle figure between Wellesley and
Soriano, 2,000 would probably be safe.
[201] Their allies did not think much of their looks. Col. Leslie
describes them thus: ‘The poor fellows had little or no uniform,
but were merely in white jackets, and large broad-brimmed hats
turned up at one side, some having feathers and others none, so
that they cut rather a grotesque appearance’ (p. 40).
Turning once more into the road that skirts the coast, Wellesley
marched on the thirteenth from Leiria, and reached Alcobaça on the
fourteenth. Here he got his first news of the French: a brigade under
Thomières had occupied the village till the previous day, and he learnt
that General Delaborde, with a weak division, was somewhere in his
front, in the direction of Obidos and Roliça.
Junot had received prompt information of the landing of the British
in Mondego Bay; on the very day after it had commenced he was able
to send orders to Loison to abandon his post in front of Badajoz and
to march at once to join the main army. Meanwhile Delaborde was sent
out from Lisbon on August 6 to observe and, if possible, contain
Wellesley, till Junot should have concentrated his whole field-army
and be ready to fight. He was told to expect Loison from the direction
of Thomar and Santarem, and to join him as soon as was possible. For
his rather hazardous task he was given no more than five battalions
of infantry and a single regiment of _chasseurs à cheval_, with five
guns[202]--not much more than 5,000 men.
[202] Delaborde’s numbers at the combat of Roliça have been the
cause of much controversy. Wellesley in one of his dispatches
estimated them at as much as 6,000 men; the unveracious Thiébault
would reduce them as low as 1,900. But it is possible to arrive
at something like the real figures.
Delaborde brought out from Lisbon two battalions of the 70th, the
26th _Chasseurs à Cheval_, and five guns. Thomières joined him
from Peniche with the 1st Provisional Light Infantry (a battalion
each of the 2nd and 4th Léger) and with the 4th Swiss.
The numbers of these corps had been on July 15:--
70th of the Line (two batts.) 2,358
2nd Léger (one batt.) 1,075
4th ” ” 1,098
4th Swiss ” 985
26th Chasseurs 263
-----
5,779
But each of the four French corps had given its grenadier company
as a contribution to the ‘Reserve Grenadier Battalions’ which
Junot had organized. The battalions being on the old nine-company
establishment (see Foy’s large table of the _Armée d’Espagne_,
note _d_) we must deduct one-ninth of each, or about 500 men
in all. We have also to allow for six companies of the 4th
Swiss sent to garrison Peniche; not for the whole battalion,
as Foy says in iv. 306, for there were Swiss in the fight of
Roliça (Leslie’s _Military Journal_, p. 43), and at Vimiero
in the official state of Junot’s army we find two companies
of this corps with Brennier’s brigade. We must deduct, then,
three-fourths of them from the force present with Delaborde,
i.e. some 740 men. This leaves 4,276 men for the four and a
quarter battalions under fire at Roliça. Of course Junot’s troops
must have had a few men in hospital since July 15, the date of
the return which we are using. But they cannot have been many.
The 70th had been quiet in its quarters in Lisbon. The other
three battalions had been in Loison’s Beira expedition, and had
lost some men therein, but all before July 11. If we concede
300 sick on August 16, it is ample. We can allow therefore for
4,000 infantry, 250 cavalry, and some 100 gunners present with
Delaborde, i.e. his total force must have been about 4,350 men--a
number much closer to Wellesley’s 6,000 than to Thiébault’s
1,900; Foy, usually so accurate, is clearly wrong in bringing the
figures down to 2,500 (iv. 310).
Delaborde at first thought of making a stand, and compelling Wellesley
to show his force, at Batalha near Alcobaça, where John I had beaten
the Spaniards, four and a half centuries ago, at the decisive battle
of Aljubarotta. But, after examining the position, he found it so much
surrounded by woods, and so destitute of good points of view, that he
feared to be enveloped if he committed himself to a fight. Accordingly
he drew back to Roliça, leaving only a rearguard at Obidos to observe
the approach of the British. At the same time he detached six companies
of the 4th Swiss to garrison Peniche, thus reducing his available force
to 4,350 men.
Wellesley, meanwhile, knowing himself to be close to the enemy,
advanced steadily but with caution. He left behind his tents and other
weighty baggage at Leiria, and moved forward with a lightly equipped
army to Alcobaça on the fourteenth, to Caldas on the fifteenth. On that
day the first shot of the campaign was fired: four companies of the
fifth battalion of the 60th and of the second battalion of the 95th
Rifles discovered the French outposts at Brilos in front of Obidos,
drove them in, and pursuing furiously for three miles, came on the
battalion which formed Delaborde’s rearguard. This corps turned upon
them, checked them with the loss of two[203] officers and twenty-seven
men killed and wounded, and only retired when General Spencer led up a
brigade to save the riflemen.
[203] The name of Lieutenant Bunbury, of the 2/95th, perhaps
deserves remembrance as that of the first British officer killed
in the Peninsular War.
Next morning the French were discovered to have fallen back no further
than Roliça, where Delaborde had found the position that he had sought
in vain at Batalha. The road from Caldas and Obidos towards Torres
Vedras and Lisbon passes for some miles over a sandy plain enclosed
on either flank by bold hills. The southern limit of the basin is a
cross-ridge, which connects the other two: in front of it lies Roliça,
on the side-slope of an isolated eminence which overlooks the whole
plain: a mile further south the road passes over the cross-ridge by
a sort of gorge or defile, on the right hand of which is the village
of Columbeira, while to its left rear lies that of Zambugeira. Though
Delaborde had drawn up his men on the hill of Roliça down in the plain,
it was not this advanced position that he intended to hold, but the
higher and steeper line of the cross-ridge, on either side of the
defile above Columbeira. Here he had a short front, only three-quarters
of a mile in length, scarped by precipitous slopes, and covered by
thickets and brushwood, which served to mask the strength (or rather
the weakness) of his division.
Discovering Delaborde drawn up on the isolated hill of Roliça,
where both his flanks could easily be turned, the British commander
resolved to endeavour to envelop and surround him. He waited on the
sixteenth till the rear of the army had come up, and marched at dawn
on the seventeenth with his whole force--13,000 British and 2,000
Portuguese, drawn up in a crescent-shaped formation with the centre
refused and the wings thrown far forward. On the right Colonel Trant,
with three battalions of Portuguese infantry and fifty horse of the
same nation, moved along the foot of the western range of heights,
to turn the Roliça position by a wide circular movement. On the left
General Ferguson, with his own brigade, that of Bowes, and six guns,
struck over the hills to get round the eastern flank of the French.
In the centre the remainder of the army--four brigades of British
infantry, 400 cavalry, half English and half Portuguese, with the
battalion of Cazadores and twelve guns, advanced on a broad front in
two lines, forming a most magnificent spectacle: ‘they came on slowly
but in beautiful order, dressing at intervals to correct the gaps
caused by the inequalities of ground, and all converging on the hill
of Roliça[204].’ Hill’s brigade formed the right, Fane’s the left,
Nightingale’s the centre, while Catlin Crawfurd’s two battalions and
the Cazadores acted as the reserve.
[204] Foy, iv. 309.
Delaborde had warned his men to be ready for a sudden rush to the rear
the minute that the enveloping movement should grow dangerous. Waiting
till the last possible moment, when Fane’s riflemen were already
engaged with his tirailleurs, and Trant and Ferguson were showing on
the flanks, he suddenly gave the order for retreat. His men hurried
back, easily eluding the snare, and took post on the wooded heights
above Columbeira a mile to the rear. Wellesley had to rearrange his
troops for an attack on the second position, and half the morning had
been wasted to no effect. He resolved, however, to repeat his original
manœuvre. Trant and the Portuguese once more made a long sweep to
the right: Ferguson’s column mounted the foot-hills of the Sierra de
Baragueda and commenced a toilsome detour to the left[205]. In the
centre two batteries formed up near a windmill on the northern slope
of Roliça hill and began to bombard the French position, while Fane’s
brigade to the left on the main road, and Hill’s and Nightingale’s to
the right deployed for the attack.
[205] I cannot find the authority for Napier’s statement that
Fane joined Ferguson in the second move. He seems still to have
acted in the centre.
Wellesley had not intended to assault the Columbeira heights till the
turning movements of Trant and Ferguson should be well developed. But,
contrary to his intention, part of his centre pushed forward at once,
and when it was engaged the other troops in the front line were sent
up to its aid. The face of the hill was scarred by four ‘passes’ as
Wellesley called them, or rather large ravines, up each of which some
of the British troops tried to penetrate. On the extreme right the
light companies of Hill’s brigade, supported by the first battalion
of the 5th Regiment from the same brigade, delivered their attack up
one gully. The second pass, just beyond the village of Columbeira, was
assayed by the 29th from Nightingale’s brigade, with the 9th of Hill’s
in support. The 82nd went towards the centre, while Fane’s two rifle
battalions and the 45th tried the heights far to the left.
The 29th Regiment, urged on by the rash courage of its colonel, Lake,
attacked some time before any other corps was engaged. It pushed up a
narrow craggy pass, the bed of a dried-up mountain torrent, where in
some places only two or three men abreast could keep their footing: the
further that the battalion advanced, the more did the ravine recede
into the centre of the enemy, and the 29th was soon being fired on
from three sides. The right wing, which led, at last forced its way
to the brow of the hill, and was able to deploy in a more or less
imperfect way, and to commence its fire. In front of it were the few
companies of the 4th Swiss, some of whom tried to surrender, calling
out that they were friends, turning up their musket butts, and rushing
in to shake hands with the British[206]. But before the 29th could
fully recover its formation, it was fiercely charged from the rear:
some of the French troops on the lower slopes of the position, finding
themselves likely to be cut off, formed in a dense mass and rushed
straight through the right wing of Colonel Lake’s regiment from behind,
breaking it, killing its commander and capturing six officers and some
thirty of its rank and file, whom they took back with them in triumph.
The 29th reeled down the slope into a wood, where it reformed on its
comparatively intact left wing, and then resumed the fight, aided by
the 9th, its supporting regiment. About this moment the 5th and Fane’s
rifles made other attacks on the two ends of the hostile line, but were
at first checked. Delaborde and his brigadier, Brennier, had only
four battalions on the ridge, as they had detached three companies of
the 70th far to their right in the direction in which Ferguson was
moving. But they held their ground very gallantly, waiting till the
British skirmishers had begun to get a lodgement on the brow, and then
charging each detachment as it tried to deploy, and forcing it down to
the edge of the wood that covered the lower slopes. Three assaults were
thus repulsed, but the British troops would not be denied--Wellesley
wrote that he had never seen more gallant fighting than that of the 9th
and the 29th[207]--and after each reverse formed up again and came on
once more. After two hours of desperate struggles they made good their
lodgement on the crest at several points: Ferguson’s troops (though
they had lost their way and wasted much time) began to appear on the
extreme left, and Delaborde then saw that it was time for him to go.
[206] Col. Leslie’s narrative, p. 43. The 4th Swiss was a very
discontented corps; individuals of it had begun to desert to the
British even before Roliça (Leach, p. 44), and a considerable
number of them took service in the 60th Rifles after the
Convention of Cintra, refusing to return to France.
[207] _Well. Disp._, iv. 83, 87.
He retired by alternate battalions, two in turn holding back the
disordered pursuers, while the other two doubled to the rear. His
regiment of _chasseurs à cheval_ also executed several partial charges
against the British skirmishers, and lost its commander mortally
wounded: the Portuguese cavalry refused to face them. In this way the
French reached the pass behind Zambugeira, a mile to the rear, without
any great loss. But in passing through this defile, they were forced to
club together by the narrowness of the road, were roughly hustled by
their pursuers, and lost three[208] of their guns and a few prisoners.
The rest of the force escaped in some disorder to Cazal da Sprega,
where Wellesley halted his men, seeing that it was now impossible to
catch Delaborde’s main body. Two miles to the rear the French were
rejoined by the three companies of the 70th Regiment which had been
detached to the east. They then retreated to Montechique some fifteen
miles from Lisbon, where they at last got news of Loison and Junot.
[208] Foy says only one gun, but Wellesley, who had better
opportunities of knowing, says that he took three (_Well. Disp._,
iv. 83).
Delaborde had fought a most admirable rearguard action, holding on to
the last moment, and escaping by his prompt manœuvres the very serious
risk of being enveloped and captured by the forces of the English,
who outnumbered him fourfold. But he had lost 600 men and three guns,
while his assailants had only suffered to the extent of 474 killed,
wounded, and prisoners[209], nearly half of whom were in the ranks of
the 29th[210]. The French flattered themselves that they had somewhat
shaken the _morale_ of Wellesley’s men by their obstinate resistance:
but this was far from being the case. The English had only put five and
a half battalions[211] into the fighting line, and were proud of having
turned the enemy out of such a position as that of Columbeira without
engaging more than 4,600 men.
[209] Thiébault solemnly states our loss at 2,000 men!
_Mémoires_, iv. 186.
[210] That corps lost no less than 190 officers and men, among
whom were six officers taken prisoners.
[211] The 5th, 9th, 29th, 82nd, 5/60th, and four companies of the
2/95th, in all 4,635 men. They lost respectively 46, 72, 190, 25,
66, and 42 men, or 441 in all; while the rest of the army (ten
British and four Portuguese battalions) only lost the remaining
38 of the total of 479 casualties suffered on the 17th, i.e. were
not really engaged.
It is doubtful whether Delaborde should have fought at all: he was
holding on in the hope that Loison’s division would come up and join
him, but this junction was very problematical, as nothing had been
heard of that general for many days. By fighting at Columbeira,
Delaborde risked complete destruction for an inadequate end. It was
true that if Loison was now close at hand Wellesley’s further advance
might cut him off from Lisbon. But as a matter of fact Loison was still
far away. He had reached Santarem on August 13, with his troops so
tired by his long march from the Alemtejo, that he halted there for
two days to rest them and allow his stragglers to come up. Marching
again on the sixteenth, he was at Cercal, fifteen miles from Roliça to
the east, while Delaborde was fighting. He barely heard the distant
cannonade, and rejoined the rest of the army at Torres Vedras, by a
route through Cadaval and Quinta da Bugagliera, which crossed his
colleague’s line of retreat at an acute angle [August 18].
It is true that if Wellesley had been accurately informed of Loison’s
position on the seventeenth, he could have so manœuvred as to place
himself directly between that general and Lisbon on the following
day, by seizing the cross-roads at Quinta da Bugagliera. In that case
Loison’s division could only have rejoined Junot by a perilous flank
march through Villafranca and Saccavem, or by crossing the Tagus and
moving along its eastern bank to the heights of Almada opposite the
capital. But the English general’s object at this moment was not to
cut off Loison, but to pick up a considerable reinforcement, of
whose approach he had just heard. On the morning of the eighteenth
the brigade of General Acland from Harwich had arrived off the
Peniche peninsula, and its advent was reported to Wellesley, with the
additional news that that of General Anstruther, which had sailed from
Ramsgate, was close behind. It was all-important to get these 4,000 men
ashore: they could not be landed at Peniche, whose fort was still in
French hands, and the only other anchorage near was that of Porto Novo,
at the mouth of the little river Maceira, twelve miles south of Roliça.
To cover their disembarkation Wellesley marched by the coast-road
through Lourinhão, and encamped on the heights of Vimiero. This
movement allowed Loison, who moved by the parallel road more inland, to
pass the English and reach Torres Vedras.
NOTE TO CHAPTER II
By far the best English account of Roliça is that by Col.
Leslie of the 29th, in his _Military Journal_, which was not
printed till 1887 (at the Aberdeen University Press). He
corrects Napier on several points. I have also found useful
details in the letters (unpublished) of Major Gell, of the
same regiment, which were placed at my disposition by Mr. P.
Lyttelton Gell. Leslie and Gell agree that Colonel Lake led on
his regiment too fast, contrary to Wellesley’s intentions. The
narrative of Colonel Leach of the 2/95th is also valuable. The
accounts of Landsheit of the 20th Light Dragoons, of Colonel
Wilkie in Maxwell’s _Peninsular Sketches_ (vol. i), and the
anonymous ‘T.S.’ of the 71st (Constable, Edinburgh, 1828) have
some useful points. Foy and Thiébault, the French narrators of
the fight, were not eye-witnesses, like the six above-named
British writers.
SECTION IV: CHAPTER III
VIMIERO
Junot much disliked leaving Lisbon: he greatly enjoyed his viceregal
state, and was so convinced that to retain the capital was equivalent
to dominating the whole of Portugal[212], that he attached an
exaggerated importance to his hold on the place, and was very
reluctant to cut down its garrison. But it was clearly necessary to
support Delaborde and Loison, and at last he took his departure. As
a preliminary precaution he resolved to deal a blow at the Alemtejo
insurgents, who, emboldened by Loison’s retreat, were creeping nearer
to the mouth of the Tagus, and showing themselves opposite Setuval.
On August 11, five days after Delaborde had marched off, General
Kellermann was sent out with two battalions and a few dragoons to drive
off these hovering bands, a task which he executed with ease, giving
them a thorough beating at Alcacer do Sal. Having cleared this flank
Junot evacuated Setuval and his other outlying posts beyond the Tagus,
and only retained garrisons at Forts Bugio and Trafaria, which command
the entrance of the river, and on the heights of Almada, which face
Lisbon across the ‘Mar de Palio.’ He put in a state of defence the old
citadel which crowns the highest of the seven hills on which the city
is built, and established a battalion in each of the suburban villages
of Belem and Saccavem, another in Fort San Julian at the mouth of the
Tagus, and two at Cascaes, in the batteries which command the only
point where a disembarkation from the side of the Atlantic is barely
possible. This excess of precaution was largely due to the fact that
a small English convoy of transports, carrying the 3rd Regiment (the
Buffs) from Madeira, had been seen off the mouth of the Tagus. The duke
feared that this portended an attempt to throw troops ashore in the
immediate vicinity of the capital, when he should have gone off to meet
Wellesley.
[212] As Foy well puts it, the idea was that ‘le Portugal était
dans Lisbonne, et Lisbonne était à elle seule tout le Portugal’
(iv. 283).
Altogether Junot left seven battalions, not less than 6,500 men, in
Lisbon and the neighbouring forts, a much greater number than was
really required, for, as Napoleon afterwards observed, capitals wait,
before declaring themselves, for events outside to cast their shadows
before[213]. Knowing that a decisive blow given to the English would be
the best way to keep the city quiet, the Duke of Abrantes would have
been wise to cut down his garrisons round Lisbon to 3,000 men, however
great the risk, and take every available man to meet Wellesley[214].
It is probable that his error, which no French general would have
committed at a later period of the war, was due to that tendency to
despise the fighting power of the British which was prevalent on the
Continent all through the early years of the century.
[213] See his curious criticism on Junot, recorded by Thiébault
in iv. 268, 269 of his _Mémoires_.
[214] For clearness it may be worth while to give the dislocation
of Junot’s army on the day of the battle of Vimiero, adding the
force of each unit on July 15, the last available return.
1st Division, Delaborde:--
Brigade Avril: _Men._ _Station._
15th Line (3rd batt.) 1,086 At Saccavem and in Lisbon city.
47th ” (2nd batt.) 1,541 In forts south of the Tagus-mouth.
70th ” (1st and 2nd
batts.) 2,358 Field-army. Present at Vimiero.
Brigade Brennier:
86th Line (1st and 2nd
batts.) 2,501 Field-army. Present at Vimiero
(except four companies left
at Elvas).
4th Swiss (1st batt.) 985 Six companies at Peniche. Two
present at Vimiero.
2nd Division, Loison:--
Brigade Thomières:
‘1st Provisional Léger’--
2nd Léger (3rd batt.) 1,075 Field-army. Present at Vimiero.
4th ” ” 1,098 Field-army. Present at Vimiero.
‘2nd Provisional Léger’--
12th Léger (3rd batt.) 1,253 Field-army. Present at Vimiero.
15th ” ” 1,305 Field-army. Present at Vimiero.
Brigade Charlot:
32nd Line ” 1,034 Field-army. Present at Vimiero.
58th ” ” 1,428 Field-army. Present at Vimiero.
2nd Swiss (2nd batt.) 1,103 In garrison at Elvas.
3rd Division, Travot:--
Brigade Graindorge:
31st Léger (3rd batt.) 846 { Partly on the heights of Almada,
32nd ” ” 1,099 { partly guarding the Spanish
{ prisoners at Lisbon.
26th Line ” 517 At Belem.
66th ” (3rd and 4th
batts.) 1,125 At Cascaes.
Brigade Fusier:
82nd Line (3rd batt.) 963 Field-army. Present at Vimiero.
_Légion du Midi_ 842 At Fort San Julian.
1st Hanoverian Legion 804 At Santarem.
All the four cavalry regiments of Margaron’s division, 1,754
sabres, were present at Vimiero, save one troop of dragoons
captured with Quesnel at Oporto.
Not the least of Junot’s troubles was the obstinate torpidity of the
Russian admiral, Siniavin, whose 6,000 seamen and marines might have
taken over the whole charge of Lisbon, if only their commander had
been willing. The Russian had refused to take part in the war as long
as only Portuguese were in the field, on the plea that his master
had never declared war on the Prince-Regent or recognized the French
annexation. But when the British had landed, Junot hoped to move him to
action, for there was no doubt that Russia and the United Kingdom were
technically at war. The Duke of Abrantes first tried to induce Siniavin
to put out from the Tagus, to fall upon scattered British convoys, and
to distract the attention of the blockading squadron under Cotton.
But the reply that to sally forth into the Atlantic would probably
mean destruction in two days by the British fleet was too rational to
be overruled. Then Junot proposed that Siniavin should at least take
charge of the pontoons containing the captive Spanish division of
Caraffa: but this too was denied him, and he had to leave a battalion
of Graindorge’s brigade to mount guard on the prisoners[215]. The
Russians were perfectly useless to Junot, except in so far as their
guns helped to overawe Lisbon, and presented a show of force to deter
British vessels from trying to force the passage of the forts at the
mouth of the Tagus. The fact was that Siniavin was not so much stupid
as disaffected: he belonged to the party in Russia which was opposed to
France, and he had perhaps received a hint from home that he was not
expected to show too much zeal in supporting the projects of Napoleon.
[215] I cannot make out whether this was the 31st or the 32nd
Léger. Foy and Thiébault omit to give the detail.
On the night of August 15, Junot marched out of Lisbon at the head
of his reserve, a very small force consisting of a battalion of the
82nd of the line, one of the two regiments of grenadiers, which he had
created by concentrating the grenadier companies of the eighteen line
battalions in his army[216], the 3rd provisional regiment of dragoons,
a squadron of volunteer cavalry formed by the French inhabitants of
Lisbon, and his reserve artillery--ten guns under General Taviel. He
also took with him the reserve ammunition-train, a large convoy of
food, and his military chest containing a million of francs in specie.
On the morning of the seventeenth the troops had reached Villafranca,
when a false report that the English were trying to land at Cascaes
caused them to retrace their steps for some miles, and to lose half a
day’s march. On learning that Lisbon and its neighbourhood were quiet,
Junot returned to the front, and growing vexed at the slow march of
the great convoy which the reserve was escorting, pushed on ahead, and
joined Loison at Cercal. He heard the distant thunder of the guns at
Roliça in the afternoon, but was too far away to help Delaborde.
[216] Junot had created two of these regiments of grenadiers,
each of two battalions. The second was at this moment with Loison.
On the eighteenth Loison and Junot marched southward to Torres Vedras,
and heard that Delaborde had fallen back so far that he was ten miles
to their rear, at Montechique. He only came up to join them next day
[August 19], and the reserve with its heavy convoy, much hampered by
bad country roads in the Monte Junto hills, did not appear till the
twentieth.
Junot had been much exercised in mind by the doubt whether Wellesley
would march by the direct road on Lisbon through Torres Vedras and
Montechique, or would continue to hug the shore by the longer route
that passes by Vimiero and Mafra. Not knowing of the approach of
Acland’s and Anstruther’s brigades, he was ignorant of the main fact
which governed his adversary’s movements. But learning on the twentieth
that the British were still keeping to the coast-road, by which
they could in one more march turn his position at Torres Vedras, he
determined to rush upon them with his united forces and give battle.
At the last moment he resolved to draw a few more men from Lisbon, and
called up a battalion of the 66th of the line, and another composed of
four picked companies selected from the other corps of the garrison--a
trifling reinforcement of 1,000 or 1,200 men, which arrived just too
late for the fight at Vimiero.
The organization of the French army had been so much cut up by the
numerous garrisons which Junot had thought fit to leave behind
him, that although five of his six infantry brigades were more or
less represented in his field-army, not one of them was complete.
He accordingly recast the whole system, and arranged his force in
two divisions under Delaborde and Loison, and a reserve brigade of
Grenadiers under Kellermann. His cavalry on the other hand was intact:
every one of the four regiments of Margaron’s division was present, and
over and above them he had the squadron of French volunteers raised
in Lisbon. He had also twenty-three guns: there should have been
twenty-six, but Delaborde had lost three at Roliça. The total of men
present amounted to 10,300 foot and 2,000 horse, with 700 artillerymen
and men of the military train[217], or about 13,000 in all.
[217] Junot’s numbers at Vimiero are as much disputed as
Delaborde’s at Roliça. Among the French accounts the figures
vary from 12,500 to 9,200. Foy, usually the most conscientious
historian, gives 11,500; Thiébault, both in his narrative,
published in 1816, and in his private _Mémoires_, descends to
9,200. Wellesley estimated the army that he had fought at 14,000
(_Well. Disp._, iv. 101).
It will be well to give the corps present, and to examine into
their probable strength. Just before the landing of the British
they had stood as follows (I have arranged them in their new
brigading):--
(1) Division Delaborde:--
Brigade Brennier:
2nd Léger (3rd batt.) 1,075
4th ” ” 1,098
70th of the Line (1st and 2nd batts.) 2,358
----- 4,531
Brigade Thomières:
86th of the Line (1st and 2nd batts.)(minus
four companies left at Elvas) 1,945
4th Swiss (two companies) 246
----- 2,191
(2) Division Loison:--
Brigade Solignac:
12th Léger (3rd batt.) 1,253
15th ” ” 1,305
58th of the Line (3rd batt.) 1,428
----- 3,986
Brigade Charlot:
32nd of the Line (3rd batt.) 1,034
82nd ” ” 963
----- 1,997
------
12,705
[(3) Reserve of Grenadiers:--
1st Regiment (1st and 2nd batts.) }
2nd ” ” ” } 2,100
This corps, being formed of companies drawn from every battalion
in Portugal, except the three foreign regiments and the _Légion
du Midi_, must not be counted in our first estimate.]
(4) Cavalry Division Margaron:--
1st Provisional Chasseurs 263
3rd ” Dragoons 640
4th ” ” 589
5th ” ” 659
Squadron of volunteer cavalry 100
----- 2,251
(5) Artillerymen for 23 guns, engineers, train, & 700
------
15,656
But from this 15,656 large deductions have to be made; each of the
eleven line battalions present had given its grenadier company to
contribute to the four battalions of ‘Reserve Grenadiers’ which Junot
had formed. We must therefore deduct from them about 1,350 bayonets.
Delaborde had lost 600 men at Roliça. Loison’s regiments had been
thinned by the dépôt battalion left to garrison Almeida, and by his
losses in his campaign on the Douro and in the Alemtejo. Thiébault
states that the casualties had amounted to 450 during these operations:
the details left at Almeida, including many sick, were 1,000 strong,
so we must subtract 1,450 from Loison’s total. This is liberal, as
some, both of the Almeida force and of the Alemtejo losses, came from
regiments not present at Vimiero (e.g. the 1st Hanoverians and the 4th
Swiss).
We must make some deduction for the ordinary hospital wastage of the
troops which had come out of Lisbon with Delaborde and Junot, seven
battalions and two regiments of cavalry. Loison’s sick are already
partly accounted for by the Almeida details. It would seem that 1,000
would be an ample allowance. When the French evacuated Portugal they
had 3,281 men in hospital. Of these, 1,200 were the wounded of Vimiero.
Of the remainder, 1,000 may have belonged to the ten and two-thirds
battalions present at the battle, the other 1,081 to the eleven and
one-third not present.
For the infantry then we allow--
12,705 of original strength, minus 1,350 Grenadiers,
600 lost at Roliça, and 1,450 in garrison at Almeida
or lost in the insurrection, and 1,000 sick (4,400
in all) 8,305
Add for four battalions of Reserve Grenadiers 2,100
------
Total 10,405
Margaron’s cavalry was practically intact: on July 15
it was 2,151 strong (Thiébault); it hardly suffered
in the insurrection. If we allow 300 men for casual
losses and troopers on detachment or acting as
orderlies, it is ample 1,851
We must add the 100 volunteer horse 100
Lastly, for artillerymen of four batteries (23 guns),
engineers and train, &c., we allow 700
------
Total 13,056
This is not far from Wellesley’s estimate of 14,000 men.
Hearing that Wellesley was stationary in Vimiero since the morning
of the nineteenth, Junot determined to attack him at the earliest
possible moment. He was ignorant that his adversary’s halt was due to
the arrival of Anstruther and Acland, but knowing that more troops were
expected from the sea he resolved to fight at once. The reserve and
convoy joined him on the morning of the twentieth: the same night he
marched under cover of the darkness and traversed the ten miles which
separated him from the hostile position: at dawn he was close under it.
But Wellesley meanwhile had received his reinforcements, and was
4,000 men stronger than the Duke of Abrantes supposed. On the
nineteenth Anstruther’s[218] brigade had accomplished its dangerous
disembarkation, through the surf that beats upon the sandy shore north
of the mouth of the Maceira. It had been a tedious business, many
boats having been upset and some lives lost. On the afternoon of the
twentieth the convoy that brought Acland’s brigade was got inshore, and
the greater part of the men disembarked in the dusk in the actual mouth
of the little river, and slept upon the beach. But some of them were
still on shipboard on the morning of the twenty-first, and came too
late for the battle of that day[219].
[218] Anstruther’s Brigade from Ramsgate consisted of--
9th Regiment (2nd batt.) 633
43rd ” ” 721
52nd ” ” 654
97th ” 695
-----
2,703
With them the 43rd and 52nd, so famous in many a Peninsular
battle-field in the Light Division, made their appearance.
[219] Of Acland’s Brigade from Harwich there disembarked--
2nd or Queen’s Regiment 731
20th Regiment (seven and a half companies) 401
95th Rifles (1st batt., two companies) 200
-----
1,332
The ship that bore Colonel Ross and two and a half companies of
the 20th had drifted so far off the shore that it did not succeed
in getting its freight delivered till late on the twenty-first.
While covering this disembarkation Wellesley had taken up an excellent
position on the heights of Vimiero, with the sea at his back. The
surrounding country was pleasant, good water was forthcoming in
abundance, and the neighbouring villages provided a considerable
quantity of food. The region is both more fertile and better wooded
than most of central Portugal. The only fault of the position was
that it was one from which retreat would have been very difficult. But
confident in himself and his men, and somewhat under-estimating the
possible maximum of force that Junot could bring against him, Wellesley
was thinking of nothing less than of retreat. If he had not been
attacked on the twenty-first, he would himself have pushed on towards
the enemy next day. He had now 16,778 British troops, besides Trant’s
2,000 Portuguese, and thought himself competent to cope with any force
that Junot could collect.
[Illustration: Battle of Vimiero. August 21, 1808.]
The position of Vimiero consists of a well-marked line of heights
sweeping from the north to the south-west, and cut through the centre
by the narrow valley of the river Maceira, on which the village of
Vimiero stands. The southern part of the range, which lies nearest the
sea, is especially steep and formidable: the northern part, beyond the
Maceira, is lower and broader: along its ridge runs a country road
leading northward to Lourinhão. But even here the position is very
strong, for a ravine creeps along its eastern foot and acts as a sort
of ditch to the broad ridge, or rather plateau, which the British army
was holding. Its only accessible side is the north, where it sinks
down into a rolling upland beyond the village of Ventosa. In the very
centre of the position, well in front of the main ridge, just above the
village of Vimiero, lies an isolated hill, well suited to serve as an
outwork or first line of defence. It was partly occupied by vineyards
and thickets, partly by open fields, and gave admirable cover for its
defenders.
This hill Wellesley had chosen as the key of his position: on it were
placed the two brigades of Fane and Anstruther, seven battalions in
all. The high ridge running from behind it to the sea was held by the
brigades of Hill, Bowes, Catlin Crawfurd, Nightingale, and Acland.
That of Ferguson lay behind Vimiero, astride of the valley of the
Maceira. Trant’s four battalions of Portuguese were near Ferguson, on
the lower heights north of Vimiero, ready to act as a reserve to Fane
and Anstruther. The handful of cavalry, 240 English and 260 Portuguese
sabres, were in the low ground on the banks of the Maceira, close under
Crawfurd’s position. Of the three batteries which Wellesley had been
able to bring with him, six guns were on the projecting height with
Anstruther, eight were on the high mountain south of Vimiero, and four
were with the reserve.
A glance at this order of battle shows that Wellesley expected to be
attacked from the south, up the valley of the Maceira, and that he
thought that the enemy’s plan would be to force his right-centre.
Little or no provision is made against the plan which Junot actually
adopted, that of assaulting the British left-centre and simultaneously
turning their extreme left flank, while leaving the right unmolested.
But the whole position was so short--it was less than three miles in
length--that there was no difficulty in shifting troops rapidly from
one end of it to the other, and, as the event showed, no risk whatever
was run.
Wellesley was busy arranging his line of battle, when to his bitter
disappointment he received the news that he was superseded, a calamity
which he had been expecting to occur at any moment. Sir Harry Burrard
had arrived from England at the tail of Acland’s convoy, and was now on
board the sloop _Brazen_ in Maceira Bay. Sir Arthur at once went off
in a boat to greet him, and to give him an account of the condition in
which affairs stood. Burrard heard him out, and then placed a strong
embargo on any further offensive movement. He had learnt that Sir John
Moore, with the division from the Baltic, was now off the Portuguese
coast, and was resolved not to stir till those troops should have been
landed. Being, as it seems, a leisurely sort of man, he resolved to
sleep on board his ship for one night more, and to come ashore next
morning--a resolve which cost him that chance of commanding a British
army in a pitched battle which so many generals have in vain desired.
Wellesley went back through the surf charged, for a short fifteen hours
more, with the destinies of the army of Portugal[220].
[220] It may be well to give Wellesley’s army at Vimiero:--
Cavalry, 20th Light Dragoons 240
Artillery, three batteries 226