Chapter VII: Book XXIV: Chap. I (4)

And am I to be accused of an unnatural bias against the Spaniards because I do not laud them for running away in battle; because I do not express my admiration of their honour in assassinating men whom they dared not face in fight; because I do not commend their humanity for mutilating, torturing, and murdering their prisoners. I have indeed heard of a British staff-officer, high in rank, who, after the battle of Talavera, looked on with apparent satisfaction at a Spaniard beating a wounded Frenchman’s brains out with a stone, and even sneered at the indignant emotion and instant interference of my informant. Such an adventure I have heard of, yet there are few such cold-blooded men in the British army. But what have I said to the disparagement of the Spaniards in my history without sustaining it by irrefragable testimony? Nothing, absolutely nothing! I have quoted the deliberate judgment of every person of note, French and English, who had to deal with them; nay, I have in some instances supported my opinion by the declaration even of Spanish generals. I have brought forward the testimony of sir Hew Dalrymple, of sir John Moore, of sir John Craddock, of Mr. Stuart, of Mr. Frere, of general Graham, of lord William Bentinck, of sir Edward Pellew, of lord Collingwood, of sir Edward Codrington, and of Mr. Sydenham, and a crowd of officers of inferior rank. Lastly, I have produced the testimony of the duke of Wellington; and I will now add more proofs that his opinion of the Spanish character coincides with that expressed in my history.

_Extracts from lord Wellington’s Correspondence, 1809._

‘I come now to another topic, which is one of serious
consideration.’... ‘That is the frequent, I ought to say constant
and shameful misbehaviour of the Spanish troops before the enemy:
we in England never hear of their defeats and flights, but I have
heard of Spanish officers telling of nineteen and twenty actions
of the description of that at the bridge of Arzobispo.’... ‘In the
battle of Talavera, in which the Spanish army with very trifling
exceptions was not engaged, whole corps threw away their arms
and ran off _in my presence_ when they were neither attacked nor
threatened with an attack, but frightened I believe by their own
fire.’... ‘I have found, upon inquiry, and from experience, the
instances of the misbehaviour of the Spanish troops to be so
numerous and those of their good behaviour to be so few, that I
must conclude that they are troops by no means to be depended upon.’

‘The Spanish cavalry are I believe nearly entirely without
discipline; they are in general well clothed armed and accoutred,
and remarkably well mounted, and their horses are in good
condition; but I never heard anybody pretend that in one instance
they have behaved as soldiers ought to do in the presence of an
enemy.’... ‘In respect to that great body of all armies—I mean the
infantry—it is lamentable to see how bad that of the Spaniards
is.’... ‘It is said that sometimes they behave well; though I
acknowledge I have never seen them behave otherwise than ill.’...
‘Nothing can be worse than the officers of the Spanish army; and
it is extraordinary that when a nation has devoted itself to war,
as this nation has by the measures it has adopted in the last two
years, so little progress has been made in any one branch of the
military profession by any individual.’... ‘I cannot say that they
do anything as it ought to be done, with the exception of running
away and assembling again in a state of nature.’

‘The Spaniards have neither numbers, efficiency, discipline,
bravery or arrangement to carry on the contest.’

_Extracts, 1810._

‘The misfortune throughout the war has been that the Spaniards are
of a disposition too sanguine; they have invariably expected only
success in objects for the attainment of which they had adopted no
measures; they have never looked to or prepared for a lengthened
contest; and all those, or nearly all who have had anything to do
with them, have imbibed the same spirit and the same sentiments.’

‘Those who see the difficulties attending all communications with
Spaniards and Portuguese, and are aware how little dependence can
be placed upon them, and that they depend entirely upon us for
everything, will be astonished that with so small a force as I have
I should have been able to maintain myself so long in this country.’

‘The character of the Spaniards has been the same throughout the
war; they have never been equal to the adoption of any solid plan,
or to the execution of any system of steady resistance to the enemy
by which their situation might be gradually improved. The leading
people amongst them have invariably deceived the lower orders;
and instead of making them acquainted with their real situation,
and calling upon them to make the exertions and sacrifices which
were necessary even for their defence, they have amused them with
idle stories of imaginary successes, with visionary plans of
offensive operations which those who offer them for consideration
know that they have not the means of executing, and with hopes of
driving the French out of the Peninsula by some unlooked-for good.
The consequence is, that no event is provided for in time, every
misfortune is doubly felt, and the people will at last become
fatigued with the succession of their disasters which common
prudence and foresight in their leaders would have prevented.’

_Wellington to sir H. Wellesley, 1810._

‘In order to show you how the Spanish armies are going on, I
enclose you a report which sir William Beresford has received from
general Madden the officer commanding the brigade of Portuguese
cavalry in Estremadura. I am convinced that there is not one word
in this letter that is not true. _Yet these are the soldiers who
are to beat the French out of the Peninsula!!!!_

‘There is no remedy for these evils excepting a vigorous system of
government, by which a revenue of some kind or other can be raised
to pay and find resources for an army in which discipline can be
established. _It is nonsense to talk of rooting out the French,
or of carrying on the war in any other manner._ Indeed, if the
destruction occasioned by the Guerillas and by the Spanish armies,
and the expense incurred by maintaining the French armies, are
calculated, it will be obvious that it will be much cheaper for the
country to maintain 80,000 or 100,000 regular troops in the field.

‘But the Spanish nation will not sit down soberly and work to
produce an effect at a future period. _Their courage, and even
their activity is of a passive nature, it must be forced upon them
by the necessity of their circumstances and is never a matter of
choice nor of foresight._’

_Wellington to lord Wellesley, 1810._

‘There is neither subordination nor discipline in the army either
amongst officers or soldiers; and it is not even attempted (as,
indeed, it would be in vain to attempt) to establish either. It
has in my opinion been the cause of the _dastardly conduct_ which
we have so frequently witnessed in Spanish troops, and _they have
become odious to the country_. _The peaceable inhabitants, much
as they detest and suffer from the French, almost wish for the
establishment of Joseph’s government to be protected from the
outrages of their own troops._’

_Wellington to sir H. Wellesley, Dec. 1810._

‘I am afraid that the Spaniards will bring us all to shame yet. It
is scandalous that in the third year of the war, and having been
more than a year in a state of tranquillity, and having sustained
no loss of importance since the battle of Ocaña, they should now be
depending for the safety of Cadiz—the seat of their government—upon
having one or two, more or less, British regiments; and that after
having been shut in for ten months, they have not prepared the
works necessary for their defence, notwithstanding the repeated
remonstrances of general Graham and the British officers on the
danger of omitting them.

‘The Cortes appear to suffer under the national disease in as
great a degree as the other authorities—_that is, boasting of the
strength and power of the Spanish nation till they are seriously
convinced they are in no danger, and then sitting down quietly and
indulging their national indolence_.’

_Wellington to general Graham, 1811._

‘The conduct of the Spaniards throughout this expedition (Barrosa)
_is precisely the same as I have ever observed it to be_. They
march the troops night and day without provisions or rest, and
abuse everybody who proposes a moment’s delay to afford either to
the famished and fatigued soldiers. They reach the enemy in such
a state as to be unable to make any exertion or to execute any
plan, even if any plan had been formed; and thus, when the moment
of action arrives they are totally incapable of movement, and they
stand by to see their allies destroyed, and afterwards abuse them
because they do not continue, unsupported, exertions to which human
nature is not equal.’[11]

So much for Wellington’s opinion of the Spanish soldiers and statesmen; let us now hear him as to the Spanish generals:—

1809. ‘Although the Duque de Albuquerque is _proné_ by many,
amongst others by Whittingham and Frere, you will find him out.
I think the marquis de la Romana the best I have seen of the
Spaniards. I doubt his talents at the head of an army, but he is
certainly a sensible man and has seen much of the world.’

Now reader, the following is the character given to Romana in my history; compare it with the above:—

‘Romana was a man of talent, quickness, and information, but disqualified by nature for military command.’ And again, speaking of his death, I say, ‘He was a worthy man and of quick parts, although deficient in military talent. His death was a great loss.’ If the expressions are more positive than Wellington’s, it is because this was the duke’s first notion of the marquis; he was more positive afterwards, and previous circumstances unknown to him, and after circumstances known to him, gave me a right to be more decided. The following additional proofs, joined to those already given in my former reply, must suffice for the present. Sir John Moore, in one of his letters, says, ‘_I am sorry to find that Romana is a shuffler_.’ And Mr. Stuart, the British envoy, writing about the same period to general Doyle to urge the advance of Palafox and Infantado, says, ‘_I know that Romana has not supported the British as he ought to have done, and has left our army to act alone when he might have supported it with a tolerably efficient force_.’

In 1812, during the siege of Burgos, Mr. Sydenham, expressing lord Wellington’s opinions, after saying that Wellington declared he had never met with a really able man in Spain, while in Portugal he had found several, proceeds thus—

‘It is indeed clear to any person who is acquainted with the
present state of Spain, that _the Spaniards are incapable of
forming either a good government or a good army_.’... ‘With respect
to the army there are certainly in Spain abundant materials for
good common soldiers. But where is one general of even moderate
skill and talents? I know nothing of Lacy and Sarzfield, but
assuredly a good general is not to be found amongst Castaños,
Ballesteros, Palacios, Mendizabal, Santocildes, Abadia, Duque del
Parque, La Pena, Elio, Mahy, or Joseph O’Donnel.’... ‘_You cannot
make good officers in Spain._’

If to this the reader will add what I have set forth in my history about Vives, Imas, Contreras, Campo Verde, Cuesta, and Areyasaga, and that he is not yet satisfied, I can still administer to his craving. In 1809 Wellington speaks with dread of ‘_Romana’s cormorants flying into Portugal_,’ and says, ‘that _foolish fellow the Duque del Parque_ has been endeavouring to get his corps destroyed on the frontier.’ Again—

‘The Duque del Parque has advanced, because, whatever may be the
consequences, the Spaniards always think it necessary to advance
when their front is clear of an enemy.’

‘There never was anything like the _madness_, the _imprudence_,
and the _presumption_ of the _Spanish officers_ in the way they
risk their corps, knowing that the _national vanity_ will prevent
them from withdrawing them from a situation of danger, and that if
attacked they must be totally destroyed. A retreat is the only
chance of safety for the Duque del Parque’s corps; but instead
of making it he calls upon you for cavalry.’... ‘I have ordered
magazines to be prepared on the Douro and Mondego to assist in
providing _these vagabonds_ if they should retire into Portugal,
which I hope they will do as their only chance of salvation.’

Again in 1811, defending himself from an accusation, made by the Spaniards, that he had caused the loss of Valencia, he says, ‘the misfortunes of Valencia are to be attributed to _Blake’s ignorance of his profession and to Mahy’s cowardice and treachery_.’

Now if any passage in my history can be pointed out more disparaging to the Spaniards than the expressions of lord Wellington and the other persons quoted above, I am content to be charged with an ‘unnatural bias’ against that people. But if this cannot be done, it is clear that the reviewer has proved, not my unnatural bias to the French but his own natural bias to calumny. He has indeed a wonderful aversion to truth, for close under his eye, in my second volume which he was then reviewing, was the following passage; and there are many of a like tendency in my work relative to the Spaniards which he leaves unnoticed.

‘Under such a system it was impossible that the peasantry could
be rendered energetic soldiers, and they certainly were not
active supporters of their country’s cause; but _with a wonderful
constancy they suffered for it, enduring fatigue and sickness,
nakedness and famine with patience, and displaying in all their
actions and in all their sentiments a distinct and powerful
national character_. _This constancy and the iniquity of the
usurpation, hallowed their efforts in despite of their ferocity and
merits respect_, though the vices and folly of the juntas and the
leading men rendered the effects nugatory.’—_History_, vol. ii.
chap. 1.

I would stop here, but the interests of truth and justice, and the interests of society require that I should thoroughly expose this reviewer. Let the reader therefore mark his reasoning upon Soult’s government of Oporto and the intrigue of the _Anti-Braganza_ party. Let him however look first at the whole statement of these matters in _my book_, and not trust the garbled extracts made by the reviewer. Let him observe how Heudelet’s expedition to Tuy is by this shameless writer, at one time made to appear as if it took place _after_ Soult had received the deputations and addresses calling for a change of dynasty; and this to show that no beneficial effect had been produced in the temper of the people, as I had asserted, and of which I shall presently give ample proof. How at another time this same expedition of Heudelet is used as happening _before_ the arrival of the addresses and deputations, with a view to show that Soult had laboured to procure those addresses, a fact which, far from denying, I had carefully noticed. Let him mark how an expression in my history, namely, that Soult was _unprepared_ for one effect of his own vigorous conduct, has been perverted, for the purpose of deceit; and all this with a spirit at once so malignant and stupid, that the reviewer is unable to see that the garbled extracts he gives from Heudelet’s and Riccard’s Registers, not only do not contradict but absolutely confirm the essential point of my statement.

Certainly Soult was not unprepared for the submission of the Portuguese to the French arms because it was the object and bent of his invasion to make them so submit. But there is a great difference between that submission of which Heudelet and Riccard speak, and the proposal coming from the Portuguese for the establishment of a _new and independent dynasty_; a still greater difference between that and _offering the crown to Soult himself_; and it was this last which the word _unprepared_ referred to in my history. So far from thinking or saying that Soult was unprepared for the deputations and addresses, I have expressly said, that he ‘_encouraged the design_,’ that he ‘_acted with great dexterity_,’ and I called the whole affair an ‘_intrigue_.’ But if I had said that he was unprepared for the whole affair it would have been correct in one sense. He was unprepared to accede to the extent of the _Anti-Braganza_ party’s views. He had only received authority from his sovereign to conquer Portugal, not to establish a new and independent dynasty, placing a French prince upon the throne; still less to accept that throne for himself. These were dangerous matters to meddle with under such a monarch as Napoleon; but the weakness of Soult’s military position made it absolutely necessary to catch at every aid, and it would have been a proof that the duke of Dalmatia was only a common man and unsuited for the great affairs confided to his charge if he had rejected such a powerful auxiliary to his military operations: wisely, therefore, and even magnanimously did he encourage the _Anti-Braganza_ party, drawing all the military benefit possible from it, and trusting to Napoleon’s sagacity and grandeur of soul for his justification. Nor was he mistaken in either. Yet I am ready to admit that all this must appear very strange to Quarterly Reviewers and parasites, whose knowledge of the human mind is confined to an accurate measure of the sentiments of patrons, rich and powerful, but equally with themselves incapable of true greatness and therefore always ready to ridicule it.

The facts then stand thus. Heudelet’s expedition through the _Entre Minho e Douro_ took place between the 5th of April and the 27th of that month, and the country people being then in a state of exasperation opposed him vehemently; in my history the combats he sustained are mentioned, and it is said that previous to the _Anti-Braganza_ intrigue the horrible warfare of assassinations had been carried on with infinite activity. But the intrigue of the malcontents was not completed until the end of April, and the good effect of it on the military operations was not apparent until May, consequently could not have been felt by Heudelet in the beginning of April. In my history the difference of time in these two affairs is expressly marked, inasmuch as I say that in treating of the intrigue I have anticipated the chronological order of events. Truly if Mr. Lockhart has paid for this part of the Review as criticism Mr. Murray should disallow the unfair charge in his accounts.

I shall now give two extracts from Soult’s general report, before quoted, in confimation of my statements:—

‘Marshal Soult was led by necessity to favour the party of the
malcontents, which he found already formed in Portugal when he
arrived. He encouraged them, and soon that party thought itself
strong enough in the province of _Entre Minho e Douro_, to
propose to the marshal to approve of the people declaring for the
deposition of the house of Braganza, and that the emperor of the
French should be asked to name a prince of his family to reign in
Portugal. In a political view, marshal Soult could not without
express authority, permit such a proceeding, and he could not ask
for such authority having lost his own communication with France,
and being without news of the operations of any of the other corps
which were to aid him; but considered in a military point of
view the proposition took another character. Marshal Soult there
saw the means of escaping from his embarrassments, and he seized
them eagerly, certain that whatever irregularity there was in his
proceedings ultimate justice would be done to him.’

‘These dispositions produced a remarkable change, tranquillity
was re-established, and the confidence was such, that in the
province (Entre Minho e Douro) all the inhabitants returned to
their labours, supplied the markets and familiarized themselves
with the idea of an approaching change.’... ‘Marshal Soult received
numerous deputations of the clergy to thank him for the attentions
he paid them, and for the order which he had restored. Before this
no Frenchman could straggle without being mutilated and killed.
The Portuguese, believing that it was glorious and grateful to God
to do all the mischief possible to the army, had perpetrated the
most dreadful horrors on the wretched soldiers who fell into their
hands.’

It would be too tedious and unprofitable to the reader to continue thus following the reviewer step by step. Wherefore, neglecting his farrago about the principles of war, and his application of them to show how I am wrong in my statement, that, in a _strategic point of view it was better to attack Victor, but that especial circumstances_ led sir Arthur to fall upon Soult, I hold it sufficient to place sir Arthur’s own statement before the reader and leave him to compare it with mine.

‘_Lisbon, April 24, 1809._

‘I intend to move towards Soult and attack him, if I should be able
to make any arrangement in the neighbourhood of Abrantes which can
give me any security for the safety of this place during my absence
to the northward.

‘I am not quite certain, however, that I should not do more
good to the general cause by combining with general Cuesta in
an operation against Victor; and I believe I should prefer the
last if Soult was not in possession of a part of this country
very fertile in resources, and of the town of Oporto, and if to
concert the operations with Cuesta would not take time which might
be profitably employed in operations against Soult. I think it
probable, however, that Soult will not remain in Portugal when
I shall pass the Mondego. If he does I shall attack him. _If he
should retire, I am convinced that it would be most advantageous
for the common cause that we should remain upon the defensive in
the north of Portugal, and act vigorously in co-operation with
Cuesta against Victor._

‘An operation against Victor is attended by these advantages—if
successful it effectually relieves Seville and Lisbon, and in
case affairs should take such a turn as to enable the King’s
ministers to make another great effort for the relief of Spain, the
corps under my command in Portugal will not be removed to such a
distance from the scene of operation as to render its co-operation
impossible; and we may hope to see the effect of a great effort
made by a combined and concentrated force.’

The assertion of the reviewer that I have underrated Cuesta’s force, inasmuch as it was only 19,000 infantry and 1,500 cavalry, instead of 30,000 infantry and 6,000 cavalry, as I have stated it to be, and that consequently the greatest numbers could not be brought to bear on Victor, is one of those curious examples of elaborate misrepresentation in which this writer abounds. For first, admitting that Cuesta had only 20,000 men, sir Arthur would have brought 24,000 to aid him, and Victor had only 30,000. The allies would then have had double the number opposed to Soult. But the pith of the misrepresentation lies in this, that the reviewer has taken Cuesta’s account of his actual force on the 23d of April, and suppresses the facts, that reinforcements were continually pouring into him at that time, and that he actually did advance against Victor with rather greater numbers than those stated by me.

PROOFS.

_Sir Arthur to lord Castlereagh, April 24, 1809._

‘Cuesta is at Llerena, collecting a force again, which it is said
will soon be 25,000 infantry and 6,000 cavalry.’

_To general Mackenzie, May 1, 1809._

‘They (Victor’s troops) have in their front a Spanish army with
general Cuesta at Llerena, which army was defeated in the month
of March, and has since been reinforced to the amount of _twenty
thousand men_.’... ‘They will be attacked by Cuesta, who is
_receiving reinforcements_.’

_Mr. Frere to sir Arthur Wellesley, Seville, May 4._

‘We have here 3,000 cavalry, considered as part of the army of
Estremadura (under Cuesta). Cuesta has with him 4,000 cavalry.’

_Sir Arthur Wellesley to lord Castlereagh, June 17, 1809._

‘We had every reason to believe that the French army consisted of
about 27,000, of which 7,000 were cavalry; and the combined British
and Portuguese force which I was in hopes I should have enabled to
march upon this expedition would have amounted to about 24,000 men.’

_To lord Wellesley, August 8, 1809._

‘The army of Cuesta, which crossed the Tagus _thirty-six or
thirty-eight thousand strong_, does not now consist of 30,000.’

_Extract from a Memoir by sir A. Wellesley, 1809._

‘The Spanish army under General Cuesta had been _reinforced with
cavalry and infantry, and had been refitted with extraordinary
celerity after the action of Medellin_.’

All the reviewer’s remarks about Cuesta’s numbers, and about the unfordable nature of the Tagus, are a reproduction of misrepresentations and objections before exposed and refuted by me in my controversy with marshal Beresford; but as it is now attempted to support them by garbled extracts from better authorities, I will again and completely expose and crush them. This will however be more conveniently done farther on. Meanwhile I repeat, that the Tagus is only unfordable during the winter, and not then if there is a few days dry weather; that six months of the year it is always fordable in many places, and as low down as Salvaterra near Lisbon; finally, that my expression, ‘_a river fordable at almost every season_,’ is strictly correct, and is indeed not mine but lord Wellington’s expression. To proceed with the rest:—

Without offering any proof beyond his own assertion, the reviewer charges me with having _exaggerated the importance of D’Argenton’s conspiracy for the sole purpose of excusing Soult’s remissness in guarding the Douro_. But my account of that conspiracy was compiled from the duke of Wellington’s letters—some public, some private addressed to me; and from a narrative of the conspiracy written expressly for my guidance by major-general sir James Douglas, who was the officer employed to meet and conduct D’Argenton to and from the English army;—from Soult’s own official report; from Le Noble’s history; and from secret information which I received from a French officer who was himself one of the principal movers—not of that particular conspiracy—but of a general one of which the one at Oporto was but a branch.

Again, the reviewer denies that I am correct in saying, that Soult thought Hill’s division had been disembarked from the ocean; that he expected the vessels would come to the mouth of the Douro; and that considering that river secure above the town his personal attention was directed to the line below Oporto. Let Soult and Le Noble answer this.

_Extract from Soult’s General Report._

‘In the night of the 9th and 10th the enemy made a _considerable
disembarkation at Aveiro, and another at Ovar_. The 10th, at
daybreak, they attacked the right flank of general Franceschi,
while the _column coming from Lisbon by Coimbra_ attacked him in
front.’

_Extract from Le Noble._

‘The house occupied by the general-in-chief was situated beyond
the town on the road to the sea. The site was very high, and from
thence he could observe the left bank of the Douro from the convent
to the sea. His orders, given on the 8th, to scour the left bank
of the river, those which he had expedited in the morning, and the
position of his troops, rendered him confident that no passage
would take place above Oporto; _he believed that the enemy, master
of the sea, would try a disembarkation near the mouth of the
Douro_.’

Such is the value of this carping disingenuous critic’s observations on this point; and I shall now demolish his other misstatements about the passage of the Douro.

1st. The poor barber’s share in the transaction is quite true; my authority is major-general sir John Waters who was the companion of the barber in the daring exploit of bringing over the boats. And if Waters had recollected his name, it is not the despicable aristocratic sneer of the reviewer about the ‘_Plebeian_’ that would have prevented me from giving it. 2d. _The Barca de Avintas_, where sir John Murray crossed, has already been shown by a reference to the maps and to lord Wellington’s despatch, to be not nine miles from the Serra Convent as the reviewer says, but three miles as I have stated: moreover, two Portuguese leagues would not make nine English miles. But to quit these minor points, the reviewer asks, ‘_Why colonel Napier departed from the account of the events given in the despatch of sir Arthur Wellesley?_’ This is the only decent passage in the whole review, and it shall have a satisfactory answer.

Public despatches, written in the hurry of the moment, immediately after the events and before accurate information can be obtained, are very subject to errors of detail, and are certainly not what a judicious historian would rely upon for details without endeavouring to obtain other information. In this case I discovered several discrepancies between the despatch and the accounts of eye-witnesses and actors written long afterwards and deliberately. I knew also, that the passage of the Douro, though apparently a very rash action and little considered in England, was a very remarkable exploit, prudent skilful and daring. Anxious to know the true secret of the success, I wrote to the duke of Wellington, putting a variety of questions relative to the whole expeditions. In return I received from him distinct answers, with a small diagram of the seminary and ground about it to render the explanation clear. Being thus put in possession of all the leading points relative to the passage of the Douro by the commanders on each side, for I had before got Soult’s, I turned to the written and printed statements of several officers engaged in the action for those details which the generals had not touched upon.

Now the principal objections of the reviewer to my statement are,—1st. That I have given too many troops to sir John Murray. 2d. That I have unjustly accused him of want of military hardihood. 3d. That I have erroneously described the cause of the loss sustained by the fourteenth dragoons in retiring from their charge. In reply I quote my authorities; and first, as to the numbers with Murray.

_Extract from lord Wellington’s answers to colonel Napier’s questions._

‘_The right_ of the troops which passed over to the seminary, which
in fact made an admirable _tête de pont_, was protected by the
passage of the Douro higher up by lieut.-general _sir John Murray
and the king’s German legion, supported by other troops_.’

Armed with this authority, I did set aside the despatch, because, though it said that Murray was _sent_ with a battalion and a squadron, it _did not say_ that he was not followed by others. And in lord Londonderry’s narrative I found the following passage:—

‘General Murray, too, who had been detached with _his division_
to a ferry higher up, was fortunate enough to gain possession of
as many boats as enabled him to pass over with _two battalions of
Germans and two squadrons of the fourteenth dragoons_.’

And his lordship, further on, says, that he himself charged several times and with advantage at the head of those squadrons. His expression is ‘_the dragoons from Murray’s corps_.’

With respect to the loss of the dragoons sustained by having to fight their way back again, I find the following account in the narrative of sir James Douglas, written, as I have before said, expressly for my guidance:—

‘Young soldiers like young greyhounds run headlong on their prey;
while experience makes old dogs of all sorts run cunning. Here
_two squadrons_ actually rode over the _whole rear French guard_,
which laid down upon the road; and was, to use their own terms,
_passé sur le ventre_: but no support to the dragoons being at hand
no great execution was done; and the _two squadrons themselves
suffered severely in getting back again through the infantry_.’

Thus, even in this small matter, the reviewer is not right. And now with the above facts fixed I shall proceed to rebut the charge of having calumniated sir John Murray.

First, the reviewers assertion, that Murray’s troops were never within several miles of the seminary, and that they would have been crushed by Soult if they had attacked the enemy, is evidently false from the following facts. Lord Wellington expressly says, in his answer to my questions quoted before,—That the _right_ of the troops in the seminary _was protected_ by the troops under Murray; which could not be if the latter were several miles off. Again, if the dragoons of Murray’s corps could charge repeatedly with advantage, the infantry and guns of that corps might have followed up the attack without danger upon a confused, flying, panic-stricken body of men who had been surprised and were at the same time taken both in flank and rear. But if Murray dared not with any prudence even approach the enemy,—if it were absolutely necessary for him to retire as he did,—what brought him there at all? Is the duke of Wellington a general to throw his troops wantonly into such a situation,—and on ground which his elevated post at the Serra Convent enabled him to command perfectly, and where the men and movements of both sides were as much beneath his eye as the men and movements on a chess-board? Bah!

But the fact is that a part of the Germans under Murray, aye!—a very small part! did actually engage the enemy with success. Major Beamish, in his ‘History of the German Legion,’ on the authority of one of the German officers’ journals, writes thus:—

‘The skirmishers of the first line under lieutenant Von Hölle, and
two companies of the same regiment under ensign Hodenberg, were
alone brought into fire. The skirmishers made several prisoners,
and one rifleman (Henry Hauer) was lucky enough to capture a French
lieutenant-colonel. Seven of the legion were wounded.’

Murray wanted hardihood. And it is no answer to say lord Wellington did not take notice of his conduct. A commander-in-chief is guided by many circumstances distinct from the mere military facts, and it might be, that, on this occasion he did not choose to judge rashly or harshly a man, who had other good qualities, for an error into which, perhaps, a very bold and able man might have fallen by accident. And neither would I have thus judged sir John Murray from this fact alone, although the whole army were disgusted at the time by his want of daring and openly expressed an unfavourable opinion of his military vigour. But when I find that the same want of hardihood was again apparent in him at Castalla, as I have shown in my fifth volume, and still more glaringly displayed by him at Taragona, as I shall show in my sixth volume, the matter became quite different, and the duty of the historian is to speak the truth even of a general, strange as that may and I have no doubt does appear to this reviewer.

Having disposed of this matter, I shall now set down some passages evincing the babbling shallowness and self-conceit of the critic, and beneath them my authorities, whereby it will appear that the big book containing all sir George does not know is increasing in bulk:—

‘Sir Arthur Wellesley was detained at Oporto neither by the
instructions of the English Cabinet nor by his own want of
generalship, _but simply by the want of provisions_.’—_Review._

Indeed! Reader, mark the following question to, and answer from the duke of Wellington.

_Question to the duke of Wellington by colonel Napier._

Why did the duke halt the next day after the passage of the Douro?

_Answer._—‘The halt was made next day,—first, because the whole
army had not crossed the Douro and none of its supplies and
baggage had crossed. Secondly, on account of the great exertion
and fatigue of the preceding days particularly the last. Thirdly,
because we had no account of lord Beresford being in possession of
Amarante, or even across the Douro; we having, in fact, out-marched
everything. Fourthly, the horses and animals required a day’s rest
as well as the men.’

And, in the answer to another question, the following observation occurs:—‘The relative numbers and the nature of the troops must be considered in all these things; _and this fact moreover, that excepting to attain a very great object we could not risk the loss of a corps_.’

I pass over the reviewer’s comments upon my description of Soult’s retreat, because a simple reference to my work will at once show their folly and falseness; but I beg to inform this acute and profound historical critic that the first field-marshal captured by an English general was marshal Tallard, and that the English general who captured him was called John, duke of Marlborough. And, with respect to his sneers about the ‘_little river of Ruivaens_;’ ‘_Soult’s theatrical speech_;’ ‘_the use of the twenty-five horsemen_;’ ‘_the non-repairs of the Ponte Nova_;’ and the ‘_Romance composed by colonel Napier and Le Noble_;’ I shall, in answer, only offer the following authorities, none of which, the reader will observe, are taken from Le Noble.

_Extract from Soult’s General Report._

‘The 15th, in the morning, the enemy appeared one league from
Braga; our column was entangled in the defile; the rain came down
in torrents; and the wind was frightful. On reaching Salamanca
we learned that _the bridge of Ruivaens, over the little river_
(ruisseau) _of that name was cut, and the passage guarded by 1,200
men with cannon_. It was known also that the _Ponte Nova on the
route of Montelegre_, which they had begun to destroy, was feebly
guarded; and the marshal gave to major Dulong the command of 100
brave men, of his own choice, to carry it. The valiant Dulong under
cover of the night reached the bridge, passed it notwithstanding
the cuts in it, surprised the guard, and put to the sword those who
could not escape. _In four hours the bridge was repaired_; general
Loison passed it and marched upon the bridge of Misserella, near
Villa da Ponte, where 800 Portuguese _well retrenched_ defended the
passage. _A battalion and some brave men, again led by the intrepid
Dulong, forced the abbatis entered the entrenchments and seized the
bridge._’

_Extract from the ‘Victoires et Conquêtes des Français’._

‘The marshal held a council, at the end of which he called major
Dulong. It was nine o’clock in the evening. “I have selected you
from the army, he said to that brave officer, to seize the bridge
of Ponte Nova which the enemy are now cutting: you must endeavour
to surprise them. The time is favourable. Attack, vigorously with
the bayonet you will succeed or you will die. I want no news save
that of your success, send me no other report, your silence will
be sufficient in a contrary case. Take a hundred men at your
choice; they will be sufficient; add _twenty-five dragoons_, _and
kill their horses to make a rampart, if it be necessary, on the
middle of the bridge to sustain yourself and remain master of the
passage_.”’

‘The major departed with determined soldiers and a Portuguese guide
who was tied with the leather slings of the muskets. Arrived within
pistol-shot of the bridge he saw the enemy _cutting the last beam_.
It was then one o’clock the rain fell heavily and the enemy’s
labourers being fatigued thought they might take some repose
before they finished their work. The torrents descending from the
mountains and the cavado itself made such a noise that the march
of the French was not heard, the sentinel at the bridge was killed
without giving any alarm, and _Dulong with twenty-five grenadiers
passed crawling on the beam, one of them fell into the cavado but
happily his fall produced no effect_. The enemy’s advanced post of
twenty-four men was destroyed, &c. &c. The marshal, informed of
this happy event, came up in haste with the first troops he could
find _to defend the bridge and accelerate the passage of the army_;
_but the repairing was neither sufficiently prompt or solid to
prevent many brave soldiers perishing_. The marshal embraced major
Dulong, saying to him, “I thank you in the name of France brave
major; you have saved the army.”’

Then follows a detailed account of the Misserella bridge, or Saltador, and its abbatis and other obstacles; of Dulong’s attack; of his being twice repulsed; and of his carrying of the bridge, the Leaper as it was called, at the third assault, falling dreadfully wounded at the moment of victory; finally, of the care and devotion with which his soldiers carried him on their shoulders during the rest of the retreat. And the reader will observe that this account is not a mere description in the body of the work, but a separate paper in the Appendix, written by some officer evidently well acquainted with all the facts, perhaps Dulong himself, and for the express purpose of correcting the errors of detail in the body of that work. Theatrical to the critic, and even ridiculous it may likely enough appear. The noble courage and self-devotion of such a soldier as Dulong is a subject which no person will ever expect a Quarterly viewer to understand.

In the foregoing comments I have followed the stream of my own thoughts, rather than the order of the reviewer’s criticisms; I must therefore retrace my steps to notice some points which have been passed over. His observations about Zaragoza have been already disposed of in my reply to his first articles published in my fifth volume, but his comments upon Catalonian affairs shall now be noticed.

The assertion that lord Collingwood was incapable of judging of the efforts of the Catalans, although he was in daily intercourse with their chiefs, co-operating with their armies and supplying them with arms and stores, _because he was a seaman_, is certainly ingenious. It has just so much of pertness in it as an Admiralty clerk of the Melville school might be supposed to acquire by a long habit of official insolence to naval officers, whose want of parliamentary interest exposed them to the mortification of having intercourse with him. And it has just so much of cunning wisdom as to place it upon a par with that which dictated the inquiry which we have heard was sent out to sir John Warren during the late American war, namely, “whether _light_—_very light_ frigates, could not sail up the St. Lawrence to Lake Ontario?” And with that surprising providence, which did send out birch-brooms and tanks to hold _fresh water_ for the use of the ships on the said lake of Ontario. But quitting these matters, the reviewer insinuates what is absolutely untrue, namely, that I have only quoted lord Collingwood as authority for my statements about Catalonia. The readers of my work know that I have adduced in testimony the Spanish generals themselves, namely, Contreras, Lacy, and Rovira; the testimony of sir Edward Codrington, of sir Edward Pellew, of colonel Doyle, and of other Englishmen. That I have referred to St. Cyr, Suchet, Lafaille, and other French writers; that I have quoted Vacani and Cabane’s Histories, the first an Italian serving with the French army in Catalonia, the last a Spaniard and chief of the staff to the Catalan army: and now, to complete the reviewer’s discomfiture, I will add the duke of Wellington, who is a landsman and therefore according to this reviewer’s doctrine, entitled to judge:—

_Letter to lord Liverpool, 19th Dec. 1809._

‘In Catalonia the resistance is more general and regular; but still
the people are of a description with which your armies could not
co-operate with any prospect of success, or even of safety. You see
what Burghersh says of the Somatenes; _and it is notorious that the
Catalans have at all times been the most irregular, and the least
to be depended upon of any of the Spaniards_.’

So much for light frigates, birch-brooms, fresh-water tanks, and Collingwood’s incapacity to judge of the Catalans, _because he was a seaman_; and as for Reding’s complaints of the Spaniards when dying, they must go to sir George’s big book with this marginal note, that St. Cyr is not the authority. But for the grand flourish, the threat to prove at another time, ‘_from Wellington’s despatches_,’ that the Spaniards gave excellent intelligence and made _no false reports_, let the reader take the following testimony in anticipation:—

_Extracts from lord Wellington’s Correspondence, 1809._

‘At present I have no intelligence whatever, excepting the nonsense
I receive occasionally from ——; _as the Spaniards have defeated all
my attempts to obtain any by stopping those whom I sent out to make
inquiries_.’

‘I do not doubt that the force left in Estremadura does not exceed
8,000 infantry and 900 cavalry; and you have been made acquainted
with the exact extent of it, _because_, the Duque del Albuquerque,
who is appointed to command it, _is interested in making known the
truth_; but they have _lied_ about the cavalry ordered to the Duque
del Parque.’

‘It might be advisable, however, to frighten the gentlemen at
Seville _with their own false intelligence_.’

‘It is most difficult to obtain any information respecting roads,
or any local circumstances, which must be considered in the
decisions to be formed respecting the march of troops.’

1810. ‘We are sadly deficient in good information, and all the
efforts which I have made to obtain it have failed; and all that we
know is the movement of troops at the moment, or probably after it
is made.’

‘I have had accounts from the marquis de la Romana: he tells me
that the siege of Cadiz was raised on the 23d, _which cannot be
true_.’

‘I believe there was no truth in the stories of the insurrection at
Madrid.’

‘There is so far a foundation for the report of O’Donnel’s action,
as that it appears that Suchet’s advanced guard was at Lerida
on the 11th of April. It is doubtful, however, _according to my
experience of Spanish reports_, whether O’Donnel was beaten or
gained a victory.’

‘I recommend to you, however, to proceed with great caution in
respect to intelligence transmitted to you by the marquis de la
Romana, _and all the Spanish officers_. It is obvious there is
nothing they wish for so much as to involve our troops in their
operations. This is evident both from the letters of the marquis
himself, and from the _false reports_ made to lieutenant Heathcote
of the firing heard from Badajos at Albuquerque.’

_Wellington to lord Liverpool, 1810. Cartaxo._

‘The circumstances which I have related above will show your
Lordship that the military system of the Spanish nation is not
much improved, and that it is not very easy to combine or regulate
operations with a corps so ill-organised, _in possession of so
little intelligence_, and upon whose actions no reliance can be
placed. It will scarcely be credited that _the first intelligence
which general Mendizabal received of the assembling of the enemy’s
troops at Seville was from hence_.’

_Wellington to sir H. Wellesley, 1810._

‘Mendizabal, &c. &c., have sent us so many _false reports_ that I
cannot make out what the French are doing.’

‘This is a part of the system on which _all the Spanish authorities
have been acting_, to induce us to take a part in the desultory
operations which they are carrying on. _False reports and
deceptions of every description are tried_, and then popular
insults, to show us what the general opinion is of our conduct.’

‘The Spaniards take such bad care of their posts, and have so
little intelligence, that it is difficult to say by what troops the
blow has been struck.’

‘It is strange that the governor of Ciudad Rodrigo should have no
intelligence of the enemy’s movements near his garrison, of which
we have received so many accounts.’

‘We hear also a great deal of Blake’s army in the Alpujarras, and
of a corps from Valencia operating upon the enemy’s communications
with Madrid; but I conclude that there is as little foundation
for this intelligence as for that relating to the insurrection of
Ronda.’

‘I enclose a letter from General Carrera, in which I have requested
him to communicate with you. I beg you to observe, however, that
very little reliance can be placed on the report made to you
_by any Spanish general at the head of a body of troops_. They
generally exaggerate on one side or the other; and _make no scruple
of communicating supposed intelligence, in order to induce those to
whom they communicate it to adopt a certain line of conduct_.’

The reader must be now somewhat tired of quotations; let us therefore turn for relaxation to the reviewer’s observations about light troops,—of which he seems indeed to know as much as the wise gentleman of the Admiralty did about the facility of sailing up the St. Lawrence to Lake Ontario; but though that wise gentleman did not know much about sailing-craft, the reviewer knows something of another kind of craft, namely misrepresentation. Thus he quotes a passage from captain Kincaid’s amusing and clever work as if it told in his favour; whereas it in no manner supports his foolish insinuation—namely, that the 43d and 52d regiments of the light division were not light troops, never acted as such, and never skirmished! Were he to say as much to the lowest bugler of these corps, he would give him the fittest answer for his folly—that is to say, laugh in his face.

‘There are but two kinds of soldiers in the world’ said Napoleon, ‘the good and the bad.’

Now, the light division were not only good but, I will say it fearlessly, the best soldiers in the world. The three British regiments composing it had been formed by sir John Moore precisely upon the same system. There was no difference save in the colour of the riflemen’s jackets and the weapons which they carried. Captain Kincaid’s observation, quoted by the reviewer, merely says, what is quite true, that the riflemen fought in skirmishing order more frequently than the 43d and 52d did. Certainly they did, and for this very sufficient reason—their arms, the rifle and sword, did not suit any other formation; it is a defect in the weapon, which is inferior to the musket and bayonet, fitted alike for close or open order. Napoleon knew this so well that he had no riflemen in his army, strange as it may appear to those persons who have read so much about French riflemen. The riflemen of the light division could form line, columns, and squares—could move as a heavy body—could do, and did do everything that the best soldiers in the world ought to do; and in like manner the 52d and 43d regiments skirmished and performed all the duties of light troops with the same facility as the riflemen; but the difference of the weapon made it advisable to use the latter nearly always in open order: I do not, indeed, remember ever to have seen them act against the enemy either in line or square. Captain Kincaid is too sensible and too good a soldier, and far too honest a man, to serve the purpose of this snarling blockhead, who dogmatizes in defiance of facts and with a plenitude of pompous absurdity that would raise the bile of an alderman. Thus, after quoting from my work the numbers of the French army, he thus proceeds:—

‘Notwithstanding that this enormous force was _pressing_ upon the
_now unaided_ Spanish people with _all its weight_, and acting
against them with its _utmost energy_, it proved wholly unable to
put down resistance.’—_Review_, page 497.

Now this relates to the period following sir John Moore’s death, which was on the 16th of January. That general’s fine movement upon Sahagun, and his subsequent retreat, had drawn the great bulk of the French forces towards Gallicia, and had paralyzed many corps. The war with Austria had drawn Napoleon himself and the imperial guards away from the Peninsula. Joseph was establishing his court at Madrid; Victor remained very inactive in Estremadura; Soult marched into Portugal;—in fine, this was precisely the period of the whole war in which the French army were most insert. Napoleon has fixed upon the four months of February, March, April, and May, 1809, as the period in which the King let the Peninsula slip from his feeble hands.