Chapter XIII: The Peninsular War (3)

On the 10th of November, 1813, Soult’s line of defence was attacked, and notwithstanding the great pains bestowed upon strengthening it, was forced; fifteen hundred prisoners and fifty guns fell into the victor’s hands, besides quantities of stores. On the 9th of December hostilities were renewed. The allied armies drove the French back into the intrenched camp they had prepared close to Bayonne, and Soult, by attacking, after five days of almost incessant fighting, in which the loss was necessarily great (five thousand of the allies, and far more of the French were killed or wounded), retreated into his intrenched camp. The weather was still very severe, and Lord Wellington therefore again cantoned his troops, but upon a more advanced line, and both armies passed the remainder of the month in repose.

Whilst Lord Wellington, with those forces, for whom, as for their leader, Napoleon had professed such superlative disdain, was thus penetrating into France, the situation of the French emperor had undergone many changes. It was at Leipsic, October 16th, 1813, that the battle, fatal to his hopes of maintaining his sovereignty over Germany, was fought. Every German state, including the whole Confederation of the Rhine, had now thrown off allegiance to Napoleon. The allied sovereigns advanced to the banks of the Rhine. There they halted for the remainder of the year, satisfied with their achievements, and willing to give Napoleon, whom they still feared, an opportunity for negotiation. Wellington and his army alone, of the hostile forces, wintered in France.

RETURN OF THE BOURBONS

Napoleon saw that to recover all he had lost, or even to keep all he yet retained, was, for the moment at least, impossible; and he resolved to relax his grasp in that quarter, where renunciation of his now vain pretensions need not induce the abandonment of real power. He opened a negotiation with the prince to whom, as he believed, he could still dictate the terms of the treaty to be concluded--namely, the captive of Valençay, Ferdinand VII.

Since the seizure of the Spanish royal family at Bayonne, they had pretty much vanished from public view. The old king and queen, with their favourite, Godoy, had been transferred to Rome, where they vegetated contentedly upon the ample pension assigned them. The queen of Etruria, whose feelings appear to have been somewhat livelier than those of her kindred, had incurred Napoleon’s anger by an abortive attempt at escaping to England, and was strictly immured in a convent at Rome, with her daughter; her son, the dethroned king, being taken from her, and committed to the care of her parents. Ferdinand remained at Valençay. He had written a letter of congratulation to Joseph Bonaparte upon his accession to the Spanish throne. He repeatedly addressed to Napoleon congratulations on his victories. When a scheme for his liberation was devised by the British cabinet--partly through compassion but chiefly under an idea that the presence of an acknowledged king would put an end to the factions and jealousies that distracted the Spanish councils, thwarted Lord Wellington’s designs, and impeded his progress--Ferdinand not only refused to escape, but denounced the attempt to Napoleon, and took the opportunity to renew his often rejected request that he might be adopted into the imperial family, by receiving the hand of a Bonaparte princess. He was further said to employ his time in embroidering a robe for some image of the Virgin. But the stories were regarded as calumnious inventions, propagated for the purpose of lowering Ferdinand’s character in general estimation; and the imprisoned king remained as before an object of loyal veneration, of esteem, and pity.

[Sidenote: [1813-1814 A.D.]]

Immediately on reaching Paris, after his calamitous retreat from Leipsic, Napoleon addressed a letter to Ferdinand, telling him that England was endeavouring to overthrow the monarchy and nobility of Spain, in order to establish a republic in that country, and offering him his liberty, together with the alliance of France, that he might return to Spain, and put an end to the disorders now convulsing the kingdom and further menacing it. After a little delay and negotiation Ferdinand yielded. On the 11th of December, 1813, a treaty was signed at Valençay, by which he was recognised as king of Spain and the Indies, all old treaties and alliances between France and Spain were revived and confirmed, and Ferdinand undertook for the immediate evacuation of Spain and her dependencies by the English. Even this treaty, however, Ferdinand referred to the approbation and sanction of the regency and the cortes; and San Carlos was despatched with a copy of it to Madrid, whither the seat of government was now transferred from Cadiz.

On the 8th of January, 1814, the regency through its president, the cardinal de Bourbon, addressed a respectful answer to the king, in which they assured him of their joy at the prospect of his majesty’s approaching liberation, but returned the treaty unratified, and transmitted copies of the law, and of the treaty with England, which prevented its ratification.

Towards the middle of February, 1814, the weather improved, and Lord Wellington drew his troops from their cantonments. By a series of able manœuvres, and of engagements ending with the well-contested and brilliant victory of Orthez, gained on the 27th of February, he drove Soult successively from post to post, through a country of peculiar difficulty, and abounding in strong defensive positions, of which the French marshal skilfully endeavoured to avail himself, but was uniformly foiled by the superior skill of his British competitor. Sir John Hope lay before Bayonne with the left wing. By the help of an English squadron, under Admiral Penrose, the close investment of Bayonne laid open the direct road to Bordeaux, and on the 8th of March Wellington sent Beresford with fifteen thousand men to make himself master of that town. Beresford was accompanied by the duke of Angoulême, as a royalist party with the mayor at their head were well known to be anxiously expecting the prince. The French garrison evacuated the town as the allied troops approached, and the inhabitants, assuming the white cockade, and receiving the prince with enthusiastic loyalty, proclaimed Louis XVIII. Lord Wellington, recalling Beresford, recommenced his operations against Soult. On the 18th they began their movement up the Adour, the French retiring before them. On the 19th, Soult was driven from Vic-en-Bigorre, and on the 20th from Tarbes, when he retreated upon Toulouse.

Whilst Ferdinand’s allies and subjects were thus progressively triumphing over his oppressor, the captive prince had regained his liberty. Napoleon, finding that no treaty concluded with the king of Spain, whilst his prisoner, would be acknowledged by the nation as valid, on the 14th of March released him unconditionally, as the only remaining chance of detaching Spain from England, and recovering his former influence over that country. Ferdinand was conducted to Perpignan, and there, on the 19th of March, delivered over to the care of Suchet, who was to make arrangements, under the royal guarantee, for the safe return of the different French garrisons, spread over the eastern coast of Spain, to his army, upon their surrendering to the king the fortresses they still held. Ferdinand, on the 24th, was received by Copons and throngs of his native subjects, who had flocked from every place within reach, to greet the return of their beloved sovereign. Ferdinand’s signature having, however, by the then law of the land, no authority until he should have taken the oath prescribed by the constitution, Suchet’s object was unattained. The surrender of the fortresses, and the safe passage of the garrisons still remained to be negotiated betwixt him and Copons; and before they had brought it to a conclusion, the progress of events in France rendered all arrangements of the kind unnecessary.

Lord Wellington had not allowed Soult time to receive the accession of strength he expected from the result of Suchet’s negotiations. He followed him to Toulouse, forced the passage of the Garonne, and on the 10th of April, 1814, under the walls of the city, gained the last victory of this war, in the battle of Toulouse. Soult retired into the town, which, upon Wellington’s preparing to invest it, he evacuated on the night of the 12th, the allied army permitting him to withdraw unmolested. The next day they took possession of the city, where they were received with every demonstration of joy, and the inhabitants proclaimed Louis XVIII. It was the last occasion upon which the act could have the grace of a spontaneous impulse of the people.

The allied armies appeared before the French capital. Maria Louisa, with her son, and the ministry, had fled to Blois. Joseph followed the empress, and Paris capitulated. On the 31st of March Alexander and Frederick William had entered the city at the head of their troops. Napoleon gave way; and abdicated unconditionally. The title and rank of emperor were, in return, confirmed to him, although his empire was limited to the tiny island of Elba. The Bourbons were now restored to their long lost throne; and peace was re-established throughout Europe. Lord Wellington, like the rest of the allies, now of course evacuated the French territory, and dissolved his mixed army, the British, Spanish, and Portuguese.[c]

ENGLAND’S SHARE IN THE WAR

Napoleon’s enormous armies had been so wonderfully organised that they existed and fought in Spain for six years, and without cessation; for to them winters and summers were alike; they endured incredible toils and privations, yet were not starved out, nor were their small armies beaten by the Spaniards. And for their daring and resource a single fact recorded by Wellington will suffice. They captured more than one strong place in Spain without any provision of bullets save those fired at them by their enemies, having trusted to that chance when they formed the siege! Before the British troops they fell; but how horrible was the struggle, how many defeats they recovered from, how many brave men they slew; what changes and interpositions of fortune occurred before they could be rolled back upon their own frontiers! And this is the glory of England, that her soldiers and hers only were capable of overthrowing them in equal battle. What battle except Baylen did the peninsulars win? What fortress did they take by siege? What place defend? Sir Arthur Wellesley twice delivered Portugal. Sir John Moore’s march to Sahagun saved Andalusia and Lisbon from invasion at a critical moment. Sir Arthur’s march to Talavera delivered Galicia. Graham saved Cadiz. Smith saved Tarifa. Wellington recaptured Ciudad and Badajoz, rescued Andalusia from Soult and Valencia from Suchet; the Anglo-Sicilian army preserved Alicante, and finally recovered Tarragona and Barcelona under the influence of the northern operations, which at the same time reduced Pamplona and San Sebastian. England indeed could not alone have triumphed in the struggle, but for her share let this brief summary speak:

She expended more than £100,000,000 [$500,000,000] on her own operations, she subsidised both Spain and Portugal, and with her supplies of clothing, arms, and ammunition maintained the armies of each, even to the guerillas. From thirty up to seventy thousand British troops were employed by her; and while her naval squadrons harassed the French with descents upon the coasts, and supplied the Spaniards with arms and stores and money after every defeat, her land-forces fought and won nineteen pitched battles and innumerable combats, made or sustained ten sieges, took four great fortresses, twice expelled the French from Portugal, preserved Alicante, Cartagena, Tarifa, Cadiz, Lisbon; they killed, wounded, and took two hundred thousand enemies. And the bones of forty thousand British soldiers lie scattered on the plains and mountains of the peninsula. For Portugal she reorganised a native army and supplied officers who led it to victory; and to the whole peninsula she gave a general whose like has seldom gone forth to conquer. And all this and more was necessary to redeem that land from France!

NAPIER’S ESTIMATE OF WELLINGTON

Wellington met the peculiar difficulties which attend generals controlled by politicians. An English commander dare not risk much, when one disaster will be his ruin at home; his measures must be subordinate to his primary consideration. Wellington’s caution, springing from that source, had led friends and foes alike into wrong conclusions as to his system of war: the French call it want of enterprise, timidity; the English have denominated it the Fabian system. These are mere phrases. His system was the same as that of all great generals. He held his army in hand, keeping it with unmitigated labour always in a fit state to march or to fight, and acted indifferently as occasion offered on the offensive or defensive, displaying in both a complete mastery of his art. That he was less vast in his designs, less daring in execution, neither so rapid nor so original a commander as Napoleon, must be admitted; and being later in the field of glory it is presumed he learned something of the art from the greatest of all masters. Yet something besides the difference of genius must be allowed for the difference of situation; Napoleon was never, even in his first campaign of Italy, so harassed by the French as Wellington was by the English, Spanish, and Portuguese governments; their systems of war were however alike in principle, their operations being only modified by their different political positions. Great bodily exertion, unceasing watchfulness, exact combinations to protect their flanks and communications without scattering their forces--these were common to both; in defence firm, cool, enduring, in attack fierce and obstinate; daring when daring was politic, yet always operating by the flanks in preference to the front; in these things they were alike: in following up a victory the English general fell short of the French emperor. The battle of Wellington was the stroke of a battering-ram--down went the wall in ruins; the battle of Napoleon was the swell and dash of a mighty wave before which the barrier yielded and the roaring flood poured onwards covering all.

But there was nothing of timidity or natural want of enterprise to be discerned in the English general’s campaigns. Neither was he of the Fabian school. He recommended that commander’s system to the Spaniards, he did not follow it himself; his military policy more resembled that of Scipio Africanus. Wellington was never loath to fight when there was any equality of numbers. Slight therefore is the resemblance to the Fabian warfare. And for the Englishman’s hardiness and enterprise, bear witness the passage of the Douro at Oporto, the capture of Ciudad Rodrigo, the storming of Badajoz, the surprise of the forts at Mirabete, the march to Vitoria, the passage of the Bidassoa, the victory of the Nivelle, the passage of the Adour below Bayonne, the fight of Orthez, the crowning battle of Toulouse! To say that he committed faults is only to say that he made war; to deny him the qualities of a great commander is to rail against the clear midday sun for want of light. Iron hardihood of body, a quick and sure vision, a grasping mind, untiring power of thought, and the habit of laborious minute investigation and arrangement--all these qualities he possessed, and with them that most rare faculty of coming to prompt and sure conclusions on sudden emergencies. This is the certain mark of a master-spirit in war.[b]

FOOTNOTES

[113] [“Though of short duration the resistance of Valencia is nothing less than marvellous,” says the count de Toreño.[f] “She had no soldiers for the defence, her ordinary garrison having been ordered to different places, no experienced leaders, none but subalterns to lead the courageous peasants. The French lost two thousand men, amongst whom were Cazal, general of engineers, and other officers of high rank. Sheltered by their walls and batteries the Spaniards had but few comrades to mourn, and no person of importance.”]

[114] [These are Napier’s words in dedicating his great work to Wellington.]

[115] The author’s eldest brother; he was said to be slain. When the French renewed the attack on Elvina, he was somewhat in advance of that village, and alone, for the troops were scattered by the nature of the ground. Being hurt in the leg, he endeavoured to retire, but was overtaken, and thrown to the ground with five wounds; a French drummer rescued him, and when a soldier with whom he had been struggling made a second attempt to kill him, the drummer once more interfered. The morning after the battle Marshal Soult sent his own surgeon to Major Napier, and, with a kindness and consideration very uncommon, wrote to Napoleon, desiring that his prisoner might not be sent to France, which from the system of refusing exchanges would have ruined his professional prospect; the drummer also received the cross of the Legion of Honour. When the 2nd corps quitted Corunna, Marshal Soult recommended his prisoner to the attention of Marshal Ney. The latter, treating him rather with the kindness of a friend than the civility of an enemy, lodged him with the French consul, supplied him with money, gave him a general invitation to his house, and not only refrained from sending him to France, but when by a flag of truce he knew that Major Napier’s mother was mourning for him as dead, he permitted him, and with him the few soldiers taken in the action, to go at once to England, merely exacting a promise that none should serve until exchanged. I would have not touched at all upon these private adventures, were it not that gratitude demands a public acknowledgment of such generosity, and that demand is rendered more imperative by the after misfortunes of Marshal Ney. That brave and noble-minded man’s fate is but too well known. He who had fought five hundred battles for France, not one against her, was shot as a traitor! Could the bitterest enemy of the Bourbons have more strongly marked the difference between their interests and those of the nation?

[116] [As Napier[b] points out, however, though the Spanish glorify this siege and called Saragossa “Spain,” for her bravery: “Deprive the transaction of its dazzling colours, and it shows thus: Thirty-five thousand French, in the midst of insurrections, and despite of circumstances peculiarly favourable to the defence, reduced fifty thousand of the bravest and most energetic men in Spain. The latter suffered nobly, but was their example imitated? Gerona indeed, although less celebrated, rivalled, perhaps more than rivalled, the glory of Saragossa; elsewhere her fate spoke, not trumpet-tongued to arouse, but with a wailing voice that carried dismay to the heart of the nation.”]

[117] [Napier[b] thus pungently sums up Cuesta: “Cuesta’s knowledge of both friend’s and enemy’s strength and positions was always inaccurate and his judgment false; he never gained a decisive action, and lost every army he commanded.”]

[118] [Lafuente[e] gives the following incidents of the siege of Gerona: “The holy patron of the town, St. Narcissus, was named generalissimo, it being to his protection and intercession that the devout residents attributed their safety in the attacks and dangers of the wars of past times. Of the 900 men who garrisoned the fortress of Monjuich 511 soldiers and 18 officers had perished, and nearly all the rest were wounded before it was abandoned. It cost the French 3,000 men to conquer the ruins. Whenever the limited number of the garrison permitted, Alvarez ordered sallies to be made by small bodies of men. It is related how, on the occasion of one of these sallies, the officer who was to direct it was asked where he would take refuge in case of necessity. ‘In the cemetery,’ he replied.

“When November had set in the town was ravaged by pestilence, while it suffered from the horrors of famine. Even the most unclean animals were bought at an exorbitant price and devoured. Emaciated, and no less hungry than the men, the very animals fell upon and ate one another. Pools of stagnant water full of refuse were seen in the streets; scattered here and there lay the unburied corpses; for the living there was neither shelter nor rest; the air was pestilential and disease was abroad; the overfull hospitals lacked remedies for the sick. During the month of November, 1,378 soldiers alone died. The spirits of the strongest and most valiant began to fail, and yet the dauntless governor Alvarez seized or harshly turned away the emissaries despatched by the French general to advise him to surrender. And upon hearing someone in the fortress pronounce the word ‘capitulation,’ he turned upon him: ‘How!’ he exclaimed in imposing accents, ‘are you alone a coward here! When provisions are at end we will eat you, and such as you.’ At length capitulation was necessary and so ended the famous and memorable siege of Gerona, which lasted seven long months, during which time the enemy’s 40 batteries discharged against the town more than 60,000 balls and 20,000 bombs and grenades.”]

[119] [The Spanish historian, the count de Toreño,[f] says of this siege:

“All the residents, without distinction of class, age, or sex, rushed to the assistance of the troops. Lorenza, a woman of the people, distinguished herself among the women, being twice wounded; and even two blind men, one led by a faithful dog, employed themselves in useful works, ever smiling and jovial, visiting the posts of greatest danger, crying out above the hissing of the balls, ‘Courage, boys; long live Ferdinand VII! _Viva Ciudad Rodrigo!_’

“The Spaniards were angered with the English for not assisting the town. Lord Wellington had come thither from the Guadiana disposed, and even as it were in honour bound to compel the French to raise the siege. In this case he could not put forward the usual excuse that the Spaniards did not defend themselves, or that by their want of concert they caused the failure of the well-matured plans of their allies. The marquis de la Romana came from Badajoz to Wellington’s headquarters, and joined his prayers to those of the residents and authorities of Ciudad Rodrigo, to those of the Spanish government, and even to those of some of the English. In vain! Wellington, determined not to take any step in the matter, remained obstinate.

“Were we to imitate the example of certain English historians, a wide field is here open to us to fittingly reply to the unjust recriminations which such historians have largely and wrathfully poured out, with respect to the Spanish military operations. But with more impartiality than they have shown and following no other guide but truth, setting aside public opinion, we declare, on the contrary, that Lord Wellington acted as a prudent general if, to compel the enemy to raise the siege, it was necessary to risk a battle. His forces were not superior to the French, his soldiers lacked the necessary quickness to manœuvre in the open and without set positions, nor did the Portuguese troops possess that discipline and experience of fighting which gives self-confidence. A battle gained would have saved Ciudad Rodrigo, but it would not have ended the war; and had they lost it, the English army would have been destroyed, the enemy enabled to advance to Lisbon, and a terrible if not mortal blow have been dealt to the Spanish cause. The voice of public opinion deafened the ears of the government with complaints, qualifying the conduct of the English as at least tepid and indifferent.”]

[120] [Napier,[b] while admitting the harshness of Masséna’s deeds, blames the Portuguese peasantry for many atrocities, and says that at least one of the worst outrages blamed upon Masséna’s men--the pulling to pieces of João I’s body--was actually done by the British themselves. Many of the charges against the French he declares not only slanderous but impossible.]

[121] [On this triumph the count de Toreño[f] says: “During this siege the French displayed consummate courage and skill; the first was also displayed by the English, but not the latter. This was proved by their losses in the assault of the breaches, and their valour and triumph in the escalade. This was usually the case with them in the besieging of towns. The English treated their foes well, but maltreated the inhabitants of Badajoz. The latter awaited their liberators with impatience, and prepared presents and refreshments for them, not to escape their fury, as certain British historians have asserted, as from allies and friends such conduct was not to be expected, but rather to welcome and gratify them. More than six hundred inhabitants of both sexes were killed by the English. The work of pillage and destruction lasted the whole of the night of the 6th and the following day. The exhortations of their leaders were disregarded, and Lord Wellington himself was threatened by the bayonets of his soldiers, who impeded his entrance into the fortress to check the disorder. Order was re-established the following day with troops purposely brought from without. Nevertheless the cortes presented thanks to the English general, not wishing that the excesses of the soldiers should in any way detract from the advantages resulting from the reconquest of Badajoz. The regency conferred upon Wellington the grand cross of San Fernando.”]

[122] [Though Skerrett was covered with honours for this victory, Napier[b] shows that he was forced by certain officers to defend the place against his will, and that his mistakes even then were only overcome by Captains Smith and Mitchell. He sets the numbers of the garrison at twenty-five hundred; the number of French was variously rated between five and ten thousand.]

[123] [Napier[b] says: “San Sebastian, a third-rate fortress and in bad condition when invested, resisted a besieging army possessing an enormous battering train, for sixty-three days. The place was, in fact, won by accident--the ignition of the French powder-barrels and shells, which alone opened the way into the town.” Of the sad atrocities committed by the British troops, Napier goes on to say:

“A thunderstorm, coming down from the mountains with unbounded fury immediately after the place was carried, added to the confusion of the fight. This storm seemed to be a signal from hell for the perpetration of villany which would have shamed the most ferocious barbarians of antiquity. At Rodrigo intoxication and plunder had been the principal object; at Badajoz lust and murder were joined to rapine and drunkenness; but at San Sebastian, the direst, the most revolting cruelty was added to the catalogue of crimes. One atrocity of which a girl of seventeen was the victim staggers the mind by its enormous, incredible, indescribable barbarity. The resolution of the troops to throw off discipline was quickly made manifest. A British staff officer was pursued with a volley of small arms and escaped with difficulty from men who mistook him for the provost-marshal of the 5th division; a Portuguese adjutant who endeavoured to prevent some wickedness was put to death in the market-place, not with sudden violence from a single ruffian, but deliberately by a number of English soldiers; and though many officers exerted themselves to preserve order and many men were well conducted, the rapine and violence commenced by villains spread; the camp-follower soon crowded into the place, and the disorder continued until the flames, following the steps of the plunderer, put an end to his ferocity by destroying the whole town.”]