Chapter VI: Book XXIV: Chap. I (3)
“Colonel Quennot of the ninth regiment of dragoons, who commands upon the line of the Tinto and observes the movements on that side as far as Ayamonte, informs me that on the 18th and 19th, general Blake disembarked ten thousand infantry and seven hundred cavalry between the mouths of the Piedra and the Guadiana. These troops come from Cadiz, they have cannon, and Blake can unite in that part fifteen thousand men.”
Ditto to Ditto.
“_May 4th, 1811._
“Cordova is menaced by a corps of English Portuguese and Spaniards, many troops are concentrated in Estremadura, Badajos is invested, Blake _has_ united on the Odiel an army of fifteen to sixteen thousand men.” “I depart in four days with _twenty thousand men_, _three thousand horses_, _and thirty pieces of cannon_ to drive across the Guadiana the enemy’s corps which are spread in Estremadura, to disengage Badajos and to facilitate the arrival of count D’Erlon. If the troops which that general brings can unite with mine, and if the troops coming from the armies of the north and centre, and which I have already in part arranged, arrive in time, I shall have in Estremadura, thirty-five thousand men five thousand horses and forty pieces of artillery.”
Now, my lord, I find by the imperial returns that count D’Erlon marched towards Andalusia with twelve thousand men present under arms, and that he did not arrive until the 14th June. There remain three thousand men as coming from the armies of the north and centre, to make up the thirty-five thousand men mentioned by Soult, and I find the following passage in his letter to the prince of Wagram, dated the 9th of May.
“The 12th, I shall be at Fuente Cantos, general Bron commands there, he brings with him the first reinforcement coming from the armies of the north and centre, and I shall employ him in the expedition.”
Hence, if we take the first reinforcement at half of the whole number expected, we add one thousand five hundred men and five guns to the twenty thousand, making a total for the battle of Albuera of twenty-one thousand five hundred men of all arms, and thirty-five guns. From these must be deducted the detachments left at Villalba, stragglers on the march, and some hussars sent to scout on the flanks, for I find in general Madden’s narrative of his services, that he was watched by part of the enemy’s cavalry on the day of the battle.
I have now, my lord, given you positive and undeniable testimony that the French numbers were overrated instead of being underrated by me, and I have given you corroborative evidence, that the number of the allies was as great as I have stated it to be; for we find in the above extracts Soult giving Blake fifteen thousand men, of which, at least, seven hundred are cavalry, _before_ the battle, and twenty-five thousand, of which three thousand are cavalry, to your lordship, Castaños, &c. We find the French general’s information, taking into consideration the troops which joined Blake in the Niebla, not differing essentially from Mr. Henry Wellesley’s report of the numbers of Blake’s army, namely twelve thousand, of which one thousand one hundred were cavalry; and we find both in some manner confirmed by lord Wellington’s repeated statements of the forces of Blake’s army after the battle, that is to say, making a reasonable allowance for the numbers lost in the action. Soult and Mr. Wellesley also agree in making out the Spanish cavalry more numerous than your lordship will admit of. Blake alone had from seven to eleven hundred cavalry, following the statement of these persons, and there was in addition the corps of Penne Villemur, which, as I have said in my Justification, was not less than five hundred.
In closing your calculation of numbers you exultingly observe that it is the first time you ever heard of a general’s being censured for keeping one-third of his force in reserve and _beating the enemy with the other two_. Aye—but this involves the very pith of the question. At Albuera the _general_ did not beat the enemy. My lord, you have bestowed great pains on your argument about the battle of Albuera, and far be it from me to endeavour to deprive you of any addition to your reputation which you may thus obtain. I have no desire to rob you of any well-earned laurels, my observations were directed against what appeared to me your bad generalship; if I have not succeeded in pointing that out to the satisfaction of the public I have nothing further to offer in fairness and certainly will not by any vile sophistry endeavour to damage your fame. But do not think that I acknowledge the force of your present arguments. If I do not take the trouble to dissect them for reasons before mentioned, be assured it is not from any want of points to fasten upon; indeed, my lord, your book is very weak, there are many failures in it, and a few more I will touch upon that you may estimate my forbearance at its proper value. I will begin with your observations on captain Gregory’s testimony, not in defence of that gentleman’s credit, for in truth, as his and the other officers’ evidence is given to facts of which they were personally cognizant I cannot pay the slightest regard to your confused arguments in opposition to their honour. I am aware that you do not mean to impeach anything but their memory; but if I were to attempt to defend them from your observations it would appear as if I thought otherwise. My lord, you have missed captain Gregory, but you have hit yourself very hard.
Behold the proof.
At page 167 you say, “I will now point out the gross and palpable errors of captain Gregory’s narrative.”—“He says, that on receiving the intelligence from an orderly of the thirteenth dragoons who came in from a picquet on the right with intelligence that the enemy was crossing the river, general Long galloped off.” I conclude to the right, “and found half the army across,” and to the right. _Why, every other authority has stated that the enemy’s first movement was from the wood along the right bank of the Albuera upon our left_; and that we were not at all aware of their intention to cross above our right and there make an attack, till after their first movement was considerably advanced and the action had actually commenced with Godinot’s corps on the opposite side of the river to our left. It is quite surprising that colonel Napier should have overlooked a blunder so gross as to destroy the value of the whole of his friend’s testimony.
Now, my lord, compare the passage marked by italics (pardon me the italics) in the above, with the following extract from your own despatch.
“The enemy on the 16th did not long delay his attack: at eight o’clock” (the very time mentioned by captain Gregory,) “he was observed to be in movement, and his cavalry were seen passing the rivulet of Albuera considerably _above our right, and shortly after_, he marched, out of the wood opposite to us, a strong force of cavalry and two heavy columns of infantry, posting them to our front, _as if to attack the village and bridge of Albuera_. During this time he was filing the principal body of his infantry over the river _beyond our right_, and it was not long before his intention appeared to be to turn us by that flank.” Your lordship has, indeed in another part discarded the authority of your despatch, as appears most necessary in treating of this battle, but is rather hard measure to attack me so fiercely for having had some faith in it.
With respect to sir Wm. Lumley’s letter I cannot but admire his remembrance of the exact numbers of the British cavalry. A recollection of twenty-three years, founded on a few hasty words spoken on a field of battle is certainly a rare thing; yet I was not quite unprepared for such precision, for if I do not greatly mistake, sir William was the general, who at Santarem edified the head-quarters by a report, that “_the enemy were certainly going to move either to their right or to their left, to their front or to their rear_.” One would suppose that so exact a person could never be in error; and yet the following extract from general Harvey’s journal would lead me to suppose that his memory was not quite so clear and powerful as he imagines. Sir William Lumley says, that to the best of his recollection he was not aware of the advance of the fuzileers and Harvey’s brigade until they had passed his left flank; that they then came under his eye; that as the rain and smoke cleared away he saw them as one body moving to engage, and although they had become so oblique, relative to the point where he stood, that he could not well speak as to their actual distance from one another, there did not appear any improper interval between them.
Now hear general Harvey!
“The twenty-third and one battalion of the seventh fuzileers were in line. The other battalion at quarter distance, forming square, at every halt to cover the right which the cavalry continued to menace. _Major-general Lumley, with the British cavalry, was also in column of half squadrons in rear of our right and moved with us, being too weak to advance against the enemy’s cavalry._”
There, my lord, you see that generals as well as doctors differ. Sir W. Lumley, twenty-three years after the event, recollects seeing the fuzileers and Harvey’s brigade at such a distance, and so obliquely, that he could not speak to their actual distance from one another. General Harvey writing the day after the event, says, sir William Lumley had his cavalry in half squadrons close in rear of these very brigades, and was moving with them! This should convince your lordship that it is not wise to cry out and cavil at every step in the detail of a battle.
As to the term _gap_, I used the word without the mark of quotation, because it was my own and it expressed mine and your meaning very well. You feared that the cavalry of the French would overpower ours, and break in on your rear and flank when the support of the fuzileers was taken away. I told you that general Cole had placed Harvey’s brigade in the _gap_, that is, in such a situation that the French could not break in. I knew very well that Harvey’s brigade followed in support of the attack of the fuzileers because he says so in his journal; but he also says, that both ours and the enemy’s cavalry made a corresponding movement. Thus the fear of the latter breaking in was chimerical, especially as during the march Harvey halted, formed, received and beat off a charge of the French horsemen.
But I have not yet done with sir W. Lumley’s numbers. How curious it is that brigade-major Holmes’s verbal report on the field of battle, as recollected by sir William, should give the third dragoon guards and the fourth dragoons, forming the heavy brigade, the exact number of five hundred and sixty men, when the same brigade-major Holmes in his written morning state of the 8th of May, one week before the battle, gives to those regiments seven hundred and fifty-two troopers present under arms, and one hundred and eighty-three on command. What became of the others in the interval? Again, on the 29th of May, thirteen days after the battle, he writes down these regiments six hundred and ninety-five troopers present under arms, one hundred and eighty-two on command, and thirty-two prisoners of war. In both cases also the sergeants, trumpeters, &c. are to be added; and I mark this circumstance, because in the French returns all persons from the highest officer to the conductors of carriages are included in the strength of men. I imagine neither of the distinguished regiments alluded to will be willing to admit that their ranks were full before and after, but empty on the day of battle. It is contrary to the English custom. Your lordship, also, in a parenthesis (page 125) says that the thirteenth dragoons had not three hundred men at this time to produce; but this perverse brigade-major Holmes writes that regiment down also on the 8th of May, at three hundred and fifty-seven troopers present under arms, and sixty-three on command; and on the 29th of May, three hundred and forty-one present seventy-nine on command, eighty-two prisoners-of-war. Staff-officers are notoriously troublesome people.
One point more, and I have done.
You accuse me of having placed sir A. Dickson in a position where he never was, and you give a letter from that officer to prove the fact. You also deny the correctness of sir Julius Hartman’s statement, and you observe that even were it accurate, he does not speak of an order to retreat, but an order to cover a retreat. Now to say that I place Dickson in a wrong position is scarcely fair, because I only use sir Julius Hartman’s words, and that in my Justification; whereas in my History, I have placed colonel Dickson’s guns exactly in the position where he himself says they were. If your lordship refers to my work you will see that it is so; and surely it is something akin to quibbling, to deny, that artillery posted to defend a bridge was not at the bridge because its long range enabled it to effect its object from a distance.
You tell me also that I had your quarter-master general’s evidence to counteract sir Julius Hartman’s relative to this retreat. But sir Benjamin D’Urban had already misled me more than once; and why, my lord, did you garble sir A Dickson’s communication? I will answer for you. It contained positive evidence that _a retreat was ordered_. Your lordship may ask how I know this. I will tell you that also. Sir Alexander Dickson at my request sent me the substance of his communication to you at the same time. You are now I hope, convinced that it is not weakness which induces me to neglect a complete analysis of your work. I do assure you it is very weak in every part.
My lord, you have mentioned several other letters which you have received from different officers, colonel Arbuthnot, colonel Colborne, &c. as confirming your statements, but you have not, as in the cases of sir James Douglas and general M‘Bean, where they were wholly on your own side, given these letters in full; wherefore, seeing the gloss you have put upon lord Stuart’s communication, and this garbling of sir A. Dickson’s letter, I have a right to suppose that the others do not bear up your case very strongly,—probably they contradict it on some points as sir Alexander Dickson’s does. I shall now give the latter entire.
“The Portuguese artillery under my command (twelve guns) attached to general Hamilton’s division was posted on favourable ground about 750 or 800 yards from the bridge, and at least 700 yards S. W. of the village of Albuera, their fire bore effectually upon the bridge and the road from it to the bridge, and I received my orders to take this position from lord Beresford when the enemy threatened their main attack at the bridge. At a certain period of the day, I should judge it to have been about the time the fourth division moved to attack, _I received a verbal order in English from Don Jose Luiz de Souza_ (now Conde de Villa Real, an aid-de-camp of lord Beresford) _to retire by the Valverde road, or upon the Valverde road, I am not sure which_; to this I strongly expressed words of doubt, and he then rode off towards Albuera; as, however, I could see no reason for falling back, and the infantry my guns belonged to being at hand, I continued in action, and though I believe I limbered up once or twice previous to the receipt of this message and moved a little to improve my position, I never did so to retire. Soon after Don Jose left me, seeing lord Beresford and some of his staff to my right, I rode across to satisfy myself that I was acting correctly, but perceiving that the French were giving way I did not mention the order I had received, and as soon as lord Beresford saw me, he asked what state my guns were in, and then ordered me to proceed as quickly as I could with my nine-pounders to the right, which I did in time to bring them into action against the retiring masses of the enemy. The foregoing is the substance of an explanation given to lord Beresford which he lately requested.”
Thus you have the whole of what sir Alexander Dickson (as he tells me) wrote to you; and here therefore I might stop, my lord, to enjoy your confusion. I might harp upon this fact, as being so formidable a bar to your lordship’s argument, that rather than give it publicity, you garbled your own correspondent’s letter. But my object is not to gain a triumph over you, it is to establish the truth, and I will not follow your example by suppressing what may tend to serve your argument and weaken mine. It is of no consequence to me whether you gave orders for a retreat or not. I said in my History that you did not do so, thinking the weight of testimony to be on that side, and it was only when your anonymous publications called forth new evidence that I began to doubt the correctness of my first statement.[5] But if the following observation in sir Alexander Dickson’s letter can serve your argument, you are welcome to it, although it is not contained in the substance of what he wrote to you; and here also I beg of you to remember that this letter of sir Alexander’s was written to me _after my Justification_ was printed.
“I had never mentioned the matter to any one, except to Hartman, with whom I was on the greatest habits of intimacy, and indeed I was from the first induced to attribute Souza’s message to some mistake, as neither in my conversation with lord Beresford was there any allusion to it, nor did any thing occur to indicate to me that he was aware of my having received such an order.”
Your lordship will no doubt deny that the Count of Villa Real had any authority from you to order this retreat, so be it; but then you call upon me and others to accept this Count of Villa Real’s evidence upon other points, and you attempt to discredit some of my witnesses, because their testimony is opposed to the testimony of the Count of Villa Real; if you deny him at Albuera, you cannot have him at Campo Mayor. And behold, my lord, another difficulty you thus fall into. Your publications are intended to prove your talent as a general, and yet we find you acknowledging, that in the most critical period of this great and awful battle of Albuera, your own staff had so little confidence in your ability, that sir Henry Hardinge took upon himself to win it for you, while the Conde de Villa Real took upon himself to lose it; the one ordering an advance, which gained the day; the other ordering a retreat, which would have ruined all. My lord, be assured that such liberties are never taken by the staff of great commanders.
In ancient times it was reckoned a worthy action to hold the mirror of truth up to men placed in high stations, when the partiality of friends, the flattery of dependents, and their own human vanity had given them too exalted notions of their importance. You, my lord, are a man in a high station, and you have evidently made a false estimate of your importance, or you would not treat men of inferior rank with so much disdain as you have expressed in these your publications; wherefore it may be useful, and certainly will be just, to let you know the judgment which others have formed of your talents. The following character was sketched about two months after the battle of Albuera. The author was a man of great ability, used to public affairs, experienced in the study of mankind, opposed to you by no personal interest, and withal had excellent opportunities of observing your disposition; and surely his acuteness will not be denied by those who have read your three publications in this controversy.
“Marshal Beresford appears to possess a great deal of information upon all subjects connected with the military establishments of the kingdom, the departments attached to the army, and the resources of the country. But nothing appears to be well arranged and digested in his head; he never fixes upon a point, but deviates from his subject, and overwhelms a very slender thread of argument by a profusion of illustrations, stories, and anecdotes, most of which relate to himself. He is captious and obstinate, and difficult to be pleased. He appears to grasp at every thing for his own party, without considering what it would be fair, and reasonable, and decent to expect from the other party.”
I now take leave of you, my lord, and notwithstanding all that has passed, I take leave of you with respect, because I think you to be a brave soldier, and even an able organizer of an army. I know that you have served your country long, I firmly believe to the utmost of your ability, and I admit that ability to have been very considerable; but history, my lord, deals with very great men, and you sink in the comparison. She will speak of you as a general far above mediocrity, as one who has done much and a great deal of it well, yet when she looks at Campo Mayor and Albuera she will not rank you amongst great commanders, and if she should ever cast her penetrating eyes upon this your present publication, she will not class you amongst great writers.
REPLY
TO THE
_Third Article in the Quarterly Review_
ON
COL. NAPIER’S HISTORY OF THE PENINSULAR WAR.
‘Now there are two of them; and one has been called _Crawley_, and
the other is _Honest Iago_.’—OLD PLAY.
This article is the third of its family, and like its predecessors is only remarkable for malignant imbecility and systematic violation of truth. The malice is apparent to all; it remains to show the imbecility and falseness.
The writer complains of my ill-breeding, and with that valour which belongs to the _incognito_ menaces me with his literary vengeance for my former comments. His vengeance! Bah! The ass’ ears peep too far beyond the lion’s hide. He shall now learn that I always adapt my manners to the level of the person I am addressing; and though his petty industry indicates a mind utterly incapable of taking an enlarged view of any subject he shall feel that chastisement awaits his malevolence. And first with respect to the small sketches in my work which he pronounces to be the very worst _plans_ possible. It is expressly stated on the face of each that they are only ‘_Explanatory Sketches_,’ his observations therefore are a mere ebullition of contemptible spleen; but I will now show my readers why they are only sketches and not accurate plans.
When I first commenced my work, amongst the many persons from whom I sought information was sir George Murray, and this in consequence of a message from him, delivered to me by sir John Colborne, to the effect, that if I would call upon him he would answer any question I put to him on the subject of the Peninsular War. The interview took place, but sir George Murray, far from giving me information seemed intent upon persuading me to abandon my design; repeating continually that it was his intention to write the History of the War himself. He appeared also desirous of learning what sources of information I had access to. I took occasion to tell him that the duke of Wellington had desired me to ask him particularly for the ‘_Order of Movements_,’ as essentially necessary to a right understanding of the campaign and the saving of trouble; because otherwise I should have to search out the different movements through a variety of documents. Sir George replied that he knew of no such orders, that he did not understand me. To this I could only reply that I spoke as the duke had desired me, and knew no more.[6] I then asked his permission to have reduced plans made from captain Mitchell’s fine drawings, informing him that officer was desirous so to assist me. His reply was uncourteously vehement—‘No! certainly not!’ I proposed to be allowed to inspect those drawings if I were at any time at a loss about ground. The answer was still ‘No!’ And as sir George then intimated to me that my work could only be a momentary affair for the booksellers and would not require plans I took my leave. I afterwards discovered that he had immediately caused captain Mitchell’s drawings to be locked up and sealed.
I afterwards waited on sir Willoughby Gordon, the quarter-master-general, who treated me with great kindness, and sent me to the chief of the plan department in his office with an order to have access to everything which might be useful. From that officer I received every attention; but he told me that sir George Murray had been there the day before to borrow all the best plans relating to the Peninsular War, and that consequently little help could be given to me. Now Captain Mitchell’s drawings were made by him after the war, by order of the government, and at the public expense. He remained in the Peninsula for more than two years with pay as a staff-officer, his extra expenses were also paid:[7] he was attended constantly by two Spanish dragoons as a protection and the whole mission was costly. Never was money better laid out, for I believe no topographical drawings, whether they be considered for accuracy of detail, perfection of manner, or beauty of execution, ever exceeded Mitchell’s. But those drawings belong to the public and were merely placed in sir George Murray’s official keeping. I believe they are still in his possession and it would be well if some member of parliament were to ask why they are thus made the property of a private man?[8]
Here I cannot refrain from observing that, in the course of my labours, I have asked information of many persons of various nations, even of Spaniards, after my first volume was published, and when the unfavourable view I took of their exertions was known. And from Spaniards, Portuguese, English, French, and Germans, whether of high or low rank, I have invariably met with the greatest kindness, and found an eager desire to aid me. Sir George Murray only has thrown obstacles in my way; and if I am rightly informed of the following circumstance, his opposition has not been confined to what I have stated above. Mr. Murray, the bookseller, purchased my first volume with the right of refusal for the second volume. When the latter was nearly ready a friend informed me that he did not think Murray would purchase, because he had heard him say that sir George Murray had declared it was not ‘_The Book_.’ He did not point out any particular error; but it was not ‘_The Book_;’ meaning doubtless that his own production, when it appeared, would be ‘_The Book_.’ My friend’s prognostic was good. I was offered just half of the sum given for the first volume. I declined it, and published on my own account; and certainly I have had no reason to regret that Mr. Murray waited for ‘_The Book_:’ indeed he has since told me very frankly that he had mistaken his own interest. Now whether three articles in ‘The Quarterly,’ and a promise of more,[9] be a tribute paid to the importance of ‘_My Book_,’ or whether they be the puff preliminary to ‘_The Book_,’ I know not; but I am equally bound to Mr. Editor Lockhart for the distinction, and only wish he had not hired such a stumbling sore-backed hackney for the work. Quitting this digression, I return to the Review.
My topographical ignorance is a favourite point with the writer, and he mentions three remarkable examples on the present occasion:—1. That I have said Oporto is built in a hollow; 2. That I have placed the Barca de Avintas only three miles from the Serra Convent, instead of nine miles; 3. That I have described a ridge of land near Medellin where no such ridge exists.
These assertions are all hazarded in the hope that they will pass current with those who know no better, and will be unnoticed by those who do. But first a town may be _on_ a hill and yet _in_ a hollow. If the reader will look at lieutenant Godwin’s Atlas,[10] or at Gage’s Plan of Oporto, or at Avlis’ Plan of that city—all three published by Mr. Wylde of Charing Cross—he will find that Oporto, which by the way is situated very much like the hot-wells at Bristol, is built partly on the slopes of certain heights partly on the banks of the river; that it is surrounded on every side by superior heights; and that consequently my description of it, having relation to the Bishop’s lines of defence and the attack of the French army, is militarily correct. Again, if the reader will take his compasses and any or all of the three maps above-mentioned, he will find that the Barca de Avintas is, as I have said, just three miles from the Serra Convent, and not nine miles as the reviewer asserts. Lord Wellington’s despatch called it four miles _from Oporto_, but there is a bend in the river which makes the distance greater on that side.
Such being the accuracy of this very correct topographical critic upon two or three examples, let us see how he stands with respect to the third.
_Extracts from marshal Victors Official Report and Register of the Battle of Medellin._
‘Medellin is situated upon the left bank of the Guadiana. To arrive
there, a handsome stone-bridge is passed. On the left of the town
is a very high hill (_mamelon tres elévé_), which commands all the
plain; on the right is a ridge or steppe (_rideau_), which _forms
the basin of the Guadiana_. Two roads or openings (_débouchés_)
present themselves on quitting Medellin; the one conducts to
Mingrabil, the other to Don Benito. They traverse a vast plain,
bounded by a ridge (_rideau_), which, from the right of the
Ortigosa, is prolonged in the direction of Don Benito, and Villa
Neuva de la Serena.’... ‘The ridge which confines the plain of
Medellin has many rises and falls (_movemens de terrain_) more or
less apparent. _It completely commands (domine parfaitement) the
valley of the Guadiana_; and it was at the foot of this ridge the
enemy’s cavalry was posted. Not an infantry man was to be seen;
but the presence of the cavalry made us believe that the enemy’s
army was _masked behind this ridge_ of Don Benito.’... ‘Favoured by
_this ridge_, _he could manœuvre his troops_, and carry them upon
any point of the line he pleased _without being seen by us_.’
Now ‘_rideau_’ can only be rendered, with respect to ground, a _steppe_ or a _ridge_; but, in this case, it could not mean a _steppe_, since the Spanish army was hidden _behind it_, and on a steppe it would have been seen. Again, it must have been a _high ridge_, because it not only _perfectly commanded the basin_ of the Guadiana, overlooking the _steppe_ which formed that basin, but was itself not overlooked by the very high hill on the left of Medellin. What is my description of the ground?—‘The plain on the side of Don Benito was bounded by _a high ridge of land_, mark, reader, not a mountain ridge, behind which Cuesta kept the Spanish infantry concealed, showing only his cavalry and guns in advance.’ Here then we have another measure of value for the reviewer’s topographical pretensions.
The reference to French military reports and registers has not been so far, much to the advantage of the reviewer; and yet he rests the main part of his criticisms upon such documents. Thus, having got hold of the divisional register of general Heudelet, which register was taken, very much mutilated, in the pursuit of Soult from Oporto, he is so elated with his acquisition that he hisses and cackles over it like a goose with a single gosling. But I have in my possession the general report and register of Soult’s army, which enables me to show what a very little callow bird his treasure is. And first, as he accuses _me_ of painting the wretched state of Soult’s army at St. Jago, previous to the invasion of Portugal, for the sole purpose of giving a false colouring to the campaign, I will extract Soult’s own account, and the account of _Le Noble_, historian of the campaign, and _ordonnateur en chef_ or comptroller of the civil administration of the army.
_Extract from Soult’s Official Journal of the Expedition to Portugal, dated Lugo, 30th May, 1809._
‘Under these circumstances the enterprise was one of the most
difficult, considering the nature of the obstacles to be
surmounted, the _shattered and exhausted state_ (“delabrement et
epuisement”) of the “_corps d’armée_,” and the insufficiency of the
means of which it could dispose. But the order was positive; it
was necessary to obey.’... ‘The march was directed upon St. Jago,
where the troops took the first repose it had been possible to give
them since they quitted the Carion River in Castile.’... ‘Marshal
Soult rested six days at St. Jago, during which he distributed some
shoes, had the artillery carriages repaired and the horses shod;
the parc which since the Carion had not been seen now came up,
and with it some ammunition (which had been prepared at Coruña),
together with various detachments that the previous hardships and
the exhaustion of the men had caused to remain behind. He would
have prolonged his stay until the end of February because he could
not hide from himself that his troops had the most urgent need of
it; but his operations were connected with the duke of Belluno’s,
&c. &c., and he thought it his duty to go on without regard to time
or difficulties.’
_Extract from Le Noble’s History._
‘The army was without money, without provision, without clothing,
without equipages, and the men (personnel) belonging to the latter,
not even ordinarily complete, when they should have been doubled to
profit from the feeble resources of the country.’
Who now is the false colourist? But what can be expected from a writer so shameless in his statements as this reviewer? Let the reader look to the effrontery with which he asserts that I have _celebrated marshal Soult_ for the reduction of two fortresses, Ferrol and Coruña, which were not even defended, whereas my whole passage is a censure upon the Spaniards for not defending them, and without one word of praise towards the French marshal.
To return to general Heudelet’s register. The first notable discovery from this document is, that it makes no mention of an action described by me as happening on the 17th of February at Ribadavia; and therefore the reviewer says no such action happened, though I have been so particular as to mention the strength of the Spaniards’ position, their probable numbers, and the curious fact that twenty priests were killed, with many other circumstances, all of which he contradicts. Now this is only the old story of ‘_the big book which contains all that sir George does not know_.’ For, first, Heudelet’s register, being only divisional, would not, as a matter of course, take notice of an action in which other troops were also engaged, and where the commander-in-chief was present. But that the action did take place, as I have described it, and on the 17th February, the following extracts will prove, and also the futility of the reviewer’s other objections. And I request the reader, both now and always, to look at the passages quoted from my work, in the work itself, and not trust the garbled extracts of the reviewer, or he will have a very false notion of my meaning.
_Extract from Soult’s General Report._
‘The French army found each day greater difficulty to subsist, and
the Spanish insurrection feeling itself sustained by the approach
of La Romana’s corps, organized itself in the province of Orense.
‘The insurrection of the province of Orense, directed by the monks
and by officers, became each day more enterprising, and extended
itself to the quarters of general La Houssaye at Salvaterra. _It
was said the corps of Romana was at Orense_ (on disait le corps de
Romana à Orense), and his advanced guard at Ribadavia.
‘The 16th of February the troops commenced their march upon
Ribadavia.
‘The left column, under general Heudelet, found the route
intercepted by barricades on the bridges between Franquiera and
Canizar; and defended besides by a party of insurgents eight
hundred strong. The brigade Graindorge, arriving in the night,
overthrew them _in the morning of the 17th_, and pursued them to
the heights of Ribadavia, where they united themselves with a body
_far more numerous_. General Heudelet having come up with the rest
of his division, and being sustained by Maransin’s brigade of
dragoons, overthrew the enemy and killed many. _Twenty monks at the
least perished, and the town was entered fighting._
‘The 18th, general Heudelet scoured all the valley of the Avia,
where _three or four thousand insurgents had thrown themselves_,
Maransin followed the route of Rosamunde chasing all that was
before him.’
The reviewer further says that, with my habitual inaccuracy as to dates, I have concentrated all Soult’s division at Orense on the 20th. But Soult himself says, ‘The 19th, Franceschi and Heudelet marched upon Orense, and seized the bridge. _The 20th, the other divisions followed the movement upon Orense._’ Here then, besides increasing the bulk of the book, containing what sir George _does not know_, the reviewer has only proved his own habitual want of truth.
In the above extracts nothing is said of the ‘_eight or ten thousand_ Spaniards;’ nothing of the ‘_strong rugged hill_’ on which they were posted; nothing of ‘_Soult’s presence in the action_.’ But the reader will find all these particulars in the Appendix to the ‘Victoires et Conquêtes des Français,’ and in ‘Le Noble’s History of Soult’s Campaign.’ The writers in each work were present, and the latter, notwithstanding the reviewer’s sneers, and what is of more consequence, notwithstanding many serious errors as to the projects and numbers of his enemies, is highly esteemed by his countrymen, and therefore good authority for those operations on his own side which he witnessed. Well, Le Noble says there were 15,000 or 20,000 insurgents and some regular troops in position, and he describes that position as very rugged and strong, which I can confirm, having marched over it only a few weeks before. Nevertheless, as this estimate was not borne out by Soult’s report, I set the Spaniards down at 8,000 or 10,000, grounding my estimate on the following data: 1st. Soult says that 800 men fell back on a body _far more numerous_. 2d. It required a considerable body of troops and several combinations to dislodge them from an extensive position. 3d. _‘Three or four thousand fugitives went off by one road only.’_ Finally, the expression _eight or ten thousand_ showed that I had doubts.
Let us proceed with Heudelet’s register. In my history it is said that Soult softened the people’s feelings by kindness and by enforcing strict discipline. To disprove this the reviewer quotes, from Heudelet’s register, statements of certain excesses, committed principally by the light cavalry, and while in actual pursuit of the enemy—excesses, however, which he admits that count Heudelet blamed and rigorously repressed, thus proving the truth of my statement instead of his own, for verily the slow-worm is strong within him. Yet I will not rely upon this curious stupidity of the reviewer. I will give absolute authority for the fact that Soult succeeded in soothing the people’s feelings, begging the reader to observe that both Heudelet and my history speak of Soult’s stay at Orense immediately after the action at Ribadavia.
_Extract from Soult’s General Report._
‘At this period the _prisoners of Romana’s corps_ (note, the
reviewer says none of Romana’s corps were there) had all demanded
to take the oath of fidelity, and to serve king Joseph. The Spanish
general himself was far off (_fort éloigné_). The inhabitants of
the province of Orense were returning to their houses, breaking
their arms, and cursing the excitement and the revolt which Romana
had fomented. The priests even encouraged their submission, and
offered themselves as sureties. These circumstances appeared
favourable for the invasion of Portugal.’
Animated by a disgraceful anxiety which has always distinguished the Quarterly Review to pander to the bad feelings of mankind by making the vituperation of an enemy the test of patriotism, this critic accuses me of an unnatural bias, and an inclination to do injustice to the Spaniards, because I have not made the report of some outrages, committed by Soult’s cavalry, the ground of a false and infamous charge against the whole French army and French nation. Those outrages he admits himself were vigorously repressed, and they were committed by troops in a country where all the inhabitants were in arms, where no soldier could straggle without meeting death by torture and mutilation, and, finally, where the army lived from day to day on what they could take in the country. I shall now put this sort of logic to a severe test, and leave the Reviewer’s patriots to settle the matter as they can. That is, I shall give from lord Wellington’s despatches, through a series of years, extracts touching the conduct of British officers and soldiers in this same Peninsula, where they were dealt with, not as enemies, not mutilated, tortured, and assassinated, but well provided and kindly treated.
_Sir A. Wellesley to Mr. Villiers._
_Extract, May 1, 1809._—‘I have long been of opinion that a British
army could bear neither success nor failure, and I have had
manifest proofs of the truth of this opinion in the first of its
branches in the recent conduct of the soldiers of this army. They
have plundered the country most terribly.’—‘They have plundered
the people of bullocks, amongst other property, for what reason
I am sure I do not know, except it be, as I understand is their
practice, to sell them to the people again.’
_Sir Arthur Wellesley to lord Castlereagh, May 31, 1809._
‘The army behave terribly ill. They are a rabble who cannot bear
success more than sir John Moore’s army could bear failure. I am
endeavouring to tame them but if I should not succeed I shall make
an official complaint of them and send one or two corps home in
disgrace; they plunder in all directions.’
_Sir Arthur Wellesley to Mr. Villiers, June 13, 1809._
‘It is obvious that one of the private soldiers has been wounded;
it is probable that all three have been put to death by the
peasantry of Martede; I am sorry to say that from the conduct of
the soldiers of the army in general, I apprehend that the peasants
may have had some provocation for their animosity against the
soldiers; but it must be obvious to you and the general, that
these effects of their animosity must be discouraged and even
punished, otherwise it may lead to consequences fatal to the
peasantry of the country in general as well as to the army.’
_Sir Arthur Wellesley to colonel Donkin, June, 1809._
‘I trouble you now upon a subject which has given me the greatest
pain, I mean the accounts which I receive from all quarters of the
disorders committed by, and the general irregularity of the —— and
—— regiments.’
_Sir Arthur Wellesley to lord Castlereagh, June, 1809._
‘It is impossible to describe to you the irregularities and
outrages committed by the troops. They are never out of the sight
of their officers, I may almost say never out of the sight of the
commanding officers of the regiments and the general officers of
the army, that outrages are not committed.’... ‘Not a post or a
courier comes in, not an officer arrives from the rear of the
army, that does not bring me accounts of outrages committed by
the soldiers who have been left behind on the march. _There is
not an outrage of any description which has not been committed on
a people who have uniformly received us as friends, by soldiers
who never yet for one moment_ suffered the slightest want or the
smallest privation.’... ‘It is most difficult to convict any
prisoner before a regimental court-martial, for I am sorry to
say that soldiers have little regard to the oath administered
to them; and the officers who are sworn, “well and truly to try
and determine _according to evidence_, the matter before them,”
have too much regard to the strict letter of that administered
to them.’... ‘There ought to be in the British army a regular
provost establishment.’... ‘All the foreign armies have such an
establishment. The French _gendarmerie nationale_ to the amount of
forty or fifty with each corps. The Spaniards have their police
militia to a still larger amount. _While we who require such an aid
more, I am sorry to say, than any other nation of Europe_, have
nothing of the kind.’
‘We all know that the discipline and regularity of all armies must
depend upon the diligence of regimental officers, particularly
subalterns. I may order what I please, but if they do not execute
what I order, or if they execute with negligence, I cannot expect
that British soldiers will be orderly or regular.’... ‘I believe I
should find it very difficult to convict any officer of doing this
description of duty with negligence, more particularly as he is to
be tried by others probably guilty of the same offence,’... ‘We
are an excellent army on parade, an excellent one to fight, _but
we are worse than an enemy in a country_, and take my word for it
that either defeat or success would dissolve us.’
_Sir Arthur Wellesley to Mr. Villiers, July, 1809._
‘We must have some general rule of proceeding in cases of criminal
outrages of British officers and soldiers.’... ‘As matters are now
conducted, the government and myself stand complimenting each other
while no notice is taken of the murderer.’
_Sir Arthur to lord Wellesley, August, 1809._
‘But a starving army is actually worse than none. The soldiers lose
their discipline and spirit; they plunder even in the presence of
their officers. The officers are discontented and are almost as bad
as the men.’
_Sir Arthur Wellesley to Mr. Villiers, September, 1809._
‘In respect to the complaints you have sent me of the conduct of
detachments, they are only a repetition of others which I receive
every day from all quarters of Spain and Portugal and I can only
lament my inability to apply any remedy. In the first place, our
law is not what it ought to be and I cannot prevail upon Government
even to look at a remedy; secondly, our military courts having
been established solely for the purpose of maintaining military
discipline, and with the same wisdom which has marked all our
proceedings of late years we have obliged the officers to swear
to decide according to the evidence brought before them, and we
have obliged the witnesses to give their evidence upon oath, the
witnesses being in almost every instance common soldiers whose
conduct this tribunal was constituted to controul; _the consequence
is, that perjury is almost as common an offence as drunkenness and
plunder_.’
_Lord Wellington to lord Liverpool, January, 1810._
‘I am concerned to tell you, that notwithstanding the pains taken
by the general and other officers of the army the conduct of the
soldiers is infamous.’... ‘At this moment there are three general
courts-martial sitting in Portugal for the trial of soldiers guilty
of wanton murders, (no less than four people have been killed by
them since we returned to Portugal), robberies, thefts, robbing
convoys under their charge, &c. &c. Perjury is as common as robbery
and murder.’
_Lord Wellington to the adjutant-general of the forces, 1810._
‘It is proper I should inform the commander-in-chief that desertion
is not the only crime of which the soldiers of the army have been
guilty to an extraordinary degree. A detachment seldom marches,
particularly if under the command of a non-commissioned officer
(which rarely happens,) that a murder or a highway robbery, or some
act of outrage, is not committed by the British soldiers composing
it: they have killed eight people since the army returned to
Portugal.’
_Lord Wellington to lord Liverpool, 1810._
‘Several soldiers have lately been convicted before a general
court-martial and have been executed.’... ‘I am still apprehensive
of the consequence of trying them in any nice operation before the
enemy, for they really forget everything when plunder or wine is
within reach.’
_Lord Wellington to sir S. Cotton, 1810._
‘I have read complaints from different quarters of the conduct of
the hussars towards the inhabitants of the country.’... ‘It has
gone so far, that they (the people) have inquired whether they
might kill the Germans in our service as well as in the service of
the French.’
_Lord Wellington to lord Liverpool, May, 1812._
‘The outrages committed by the British soldiers have been so
_enormous_, and they have produced an effect on the minds of the
people of the country so injurious to the cause, and likely to be
so injurious to the army itself, that I request your Lordship’s
early attention to the subject.’
Many more extracts I could give, but let us now see what was the conduct of the French towards men who did not murder and mutilate prisoners:—
_Lord Wellington to sir H. Wellesley, August, 1810._
‘Since I have commanded the troops in this country I have always
treated the French officers and soldiers who have been made
prisoners with the utmost humanity and attention; and in numerous
instances I have saved their lives. The only motive which I have
had for this conduct has been, that they might treat our officers
and soldiers well who might fall into their hands; and I must do
the French the justice to say that they have been universally well
treated, and in recent instances _the wounded prisoners of the
British army have been taken care of before the wounded of the
French army_.’
_Lord Wellington to admiral Berkeley, October, 1810._
‘I confess, however, that as the French treat well the prisoners
whom they take from us and the Portuguese treat their prisoners
exceedingly ill, particularly in point of food, I should prefer an
arrangement, by which prisoners who have once come into the hands
of the provost marshal of the British army should avoid falling
under the care of any officer of the Portuguese government.’
Having thus displayed the conduct of the British army, as described by its own general through a series of years; and having also from the same authority, shown the humane treatment English officers and soldiers, when they happened to be made prisoners, experienced from the French, I demand of any man with a particle of honour, truth or conscience in his composition,—of any man, in fine, who is not at once knave and fool, whether these outrages perpetrated by British troops upon a friendly people can be suppressed, and the outrages of French soldiers against implacable enemies enlarged upon with justice? Whether it is right and decent to impute relentless ferocity, atrocious villainy, to the whole French army, and stigmatize the whole French nation for the excesses of some bad soldiers, prating at the same time of the virtue of England and the excellent conduct of her troops; and this too in the face of Wellington’s testimony to the kindness with which they treated our men, and in the face also of his express declaration (see letter to Lord Wellesley, 26th January, 1811), that the majority of the French soldiers were ‘_sober, well disposed, amenable to order, and in some degree educated_.’ But what intolerable injustice it would be to stigmatise either nation for military excesses which are common to all armies and to all wars; and when I know that the general characteristic of the British and French troops alike, is generosity, bravery, humanity, and honour.
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History of the war in the Peninsula and in the south of France from the year 1807 to the year 1814, vol. 6Chapter VI: Book XXIV: Chap. I (3)
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