Chapter IX: Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajoz

While resting in cantonments when no operations were in immediate prospect, the army in the Peninsula forgot its hardships, and indulged in such recreations and amusements as it was found possible to organise. Everything was done by the officers to keep up the spirits of the men, though, since the age of playing games had not yet come, there was little for them to do, beyond repairing their clothing and shoes preparatory to the next campaign. The officers, however, were able to amuse themselves in a variety of ways; when not on short rations most regiments kept a certain number of pointers and greyhounds, and many of the officers shot and coursed regularly; fishing was also to be had in the rivers and streams; and each division usually kept a scratch pack of hounds. Wellington himself throughout the war hunted a pack which he had got out from England, and in many parts of the country provided excellent sport for his headquarter staff and any officers who cared to join in. Nor were balls and other social entertainments forgotten, and whenever a portion of the army was in the neighbourhood of a town the Spanish ladies showed no unwillingness to enjoy gaieties offered to them. But perhaps the greatest amusement was that provided by private theatricals, which were held on every possible occasion for the entertainment of the men. Several divisions had their own theatres, the parts of both sexes being played by the officers, and everything being done well--even to printed programmes. With such recreations, and with periodical race meetings, the idle time passed pleasantly enough; and when the men were again called upon to take up arms, they did so cheerfully and with renewed vigour.

During this winter of 1811-12, however, the officers of the 51st had few opportunities of hunting, for, until the first week of January, they were kept at Pena Macor on the look-out for the enemy, in daily expectation of receiving orders to march. Still, they managed to enjoy themselves, as is vouched for by one of the ensigns. "We led a most agreeable life," says young Mainwaring; "the neighbourhood abounding in game, our days were spent in coursing and shooting. In the evening there was always a party at someone's quarters, where cigars, egg-wine, and good-humour generally sent half of us tipsy to bed. Three times a-week a division club, formed by the German Light Brigade in an empty convent, added to our amusements, and brought us all together. Here was dancing, music, and cards; a faro bank for those who were disposed to lose their money; two military bands for the youngsters to dance to: and a sutler's room, where was every species of refreshment at most moderate prices. Many a wild mad scene have I been witness to, and perhaps partaker in, at this club, but all was in perfect good-humour; no arguments or strife; nothing but the ebullition of health and youth. Our generals and our superior officers joined in and added to all our pleasures and amusements, as in the field they shared all our privations and hardships."

On the 9th January Major Rice wrote hastily--

"We are once more on the _qui vive_; the siege of Ciudad Rodrigo
has commenced. What will be the issue must depend on circumstances.
Marmont, it is supposed, has gone to the relief of Count Suchet
in Catalonia. Our lord, I conclude, thinks it a fair opportunity
of doing somewhat, all of which you will hear in due time, and in
an official shape--much better than through private hand, at all
events such an one as mine. We have (I mean our division) no orders
as yet to quit our present position; possibly relief, support, or
succour may be required. If so, we heroes, tried and valiant, shall
fly."

On the following day came the long-awaited orders to move, and the 7th Division, marching through Sabugal and Alfayates, reached Guinaldo on the 13th January, and thence pushed on towards Ciudad Rodrigo. The division, however, was not destined to take part in the actual siege operations, or in the terrific assault which terminated them, its special duty being to stand off and cover the siege of the fortress by guarding the passes of the Sierra de Gaeta against an inroad by the enemy from that direction. The 51st, with their headquarters at the village of Pajo, furnished four officers' piquets on the mountains in front of the two principal passes, in situations fully exposed to the rigours of winter, the ground covered with several feet of snow, and wolves howling round the sentries throughout the night. Yet in after years the officers looked back on this unpleasant duty almost with pleasure, remembering only that, when not on piquet, they enjoyed excellent woodcock shooting!

Meanwhile Wellington had pushed on the siege works with astounding rapidity, had effected practicable breaches several days earlier than he expected, and on the evening of the 19th January assaulted and carried Ciudad Rodrigo. Then the 7th Division, no longer required at the passes, was withdrawn to the vicinity of the fortress. In a letter, written from _Fuente de Guinaldo on the 27th January 1812_, Major Rice says--

"We quitted our Alpine abode yesterday, and have approximated a
little to Rodrigo. It was conjectured that, upon the fall of that
place, the army would make some forward movement--Salamanca at
least; and some were so sanguine as to have flattered themselves
to have spent the remainder of the winter at Madrid. Such an
_événement_ would be rather agreeable than otherwise, particularly
to me, who am such an admirer of the Spanish signoras. We heard
yesterday of the sad reverses of the Spanish patriots under
that obstinate old fool Blake--complete defeat and himself taken
prisoner. Valencia is also fallen--to complete the tale of woe.
The taking of Rodrigo will not compensate for so much disaster, as
it is impossible, unless the Spaniards gain some ground, that our
small aid can be of ultimate use. Rodrigo is fast being put into a
state of defence. How it is to be garrisoned, or by what troops,
I do not know--Spaniards, I presume. Our loss at Rodrigo has been
rather severe, as you will see by the 'Gazette.' Two generals out
of pocket, and poor Craufurd[65] has died. He was wounded in the
vitals, mostly fatal in such cases. Who would not be a soldier
when so pleasant a fate is in store for him? We are all now pretty
tranquil, and I suppose shall remain so for a short time--until
Marmont, with his hordes, gets in motion."

Early in February the 51st moved to its old quarters at Pena Macor, and thence, a little later, commenced the march towards Badajoz, the reduction of which fortress Wellington had determined to attempt at once. The 7th Division was again detailed for covering duty, and, with the 6th Division, was placed under the command of General Graham. Crossing the Tagus at Villa Velha, the two divisions reached Elvaz, and bivouacked close to Fort La Lippe until the arrival of the army destined for the investment and siege of Badajoz.[66] Then Graham crossed the Guadiana by the bridge of boats above that place, and moved into position to the south-east. A short letter from Major Rice, dated _Puebla, two miles from Zafra, 19th March 1812_, describes what was taking place:--

"Our lord continues to dash, having undertaken once more the siege
of Badajoz. The better to insure success and prevent molestation
two _corps d'armée_ have been formed and advanced into Spain--Hill
on the side of Merida, and Graham of Balgowan in this direction,
for which you must turn to maps. Our corps is respectable,
comprising three divisions of infantry, two brigades of cavalry,
two troops of horse artillery, with lots of heavy field-pieces. We
crossed the Guadiana on pontoons on the morning of the 16th, and
passed Valverde and Santa Martha. At the latter place we had near
surprised a body of French, but had the mortification of seeing
them in the distance retiring in squares, flanked by cavalry. We
took one solitary dragoon. The French evacuated Zafra last night.
We continue to pursue, but how far I am not in the secret--various
reports, but only the wigs of course know. We are greeted in all
the towns by acclamations of _Viva los Inglezes_--how charming and
flattering! We suffer a few privations; long marches; and in the
evening we generally turn in under the trees without any other
covering than the 'grand canopy.' I hope we shall do something
brilliant. Prepare yourself to hear of gallant exploits. I trust
the siege of Badajoz will go on well. We, the 7th Division, luckily
for us, were thought too good for the spade and shovel duty.

_P.S._--I have just heard that we shall march again to-night. I
suppose to put a little salt on Mr Frenchman's tail!"

Nothing very brilliant, however, was done by Graham's corps, although it certainly carried out its _rôle_, and prevented any attempt of the enemy to raise the siege. Nor was this an easy task, for Graham displayed considerable activity, and endeavoured to do something more than merely to hold the French in check. Discovering that a small body of the enemy was occupying Llerena, eight leagues distant from his headquarters, the general ordered the 51st and 100 German riflemen to make a forced march and surprise the place. The garrison, however, had received information of the threatened attack, and evacuated Llerena, which was immediately occupied by the 51st. Yet, within a few hours, the regiment learned that Soult was making a night march on the town with 5000 men, and the small British force, in its turn, was obliged to beat a hasty retreat. Graham waited a day or two, and then determined to turn the tables on Soult. He issued sudden orders for his whole corps to march on Llerena and surprise Soult's force, and the 51st again took part in the enterprise. Everything went well throughout the long march, and just before dawn the troops approached the town. The surprise was thought to be complete, and success seemed certain, when, of a sudden, there arose a panic, which had the most dire consequences. General Graham and his staff had ridden, unknown to the troops, on ahead of the columns to reconnoitre, and were fired upon by a single vedette. They immediately galloped back to the columns, with the unfortunate result that they were mistaken for the enemy's cavalry. Major Rice, writing a week afterwards, thus describes the affair:--

"In one of our night rambles, when the whole force of our corps,
12,000 in number, was advancing upon Llerena, the heads of
columns were thrown into confusion by alarm of cavalry. A firing
unfortunately began. Friends, and not foes, were shot. We[67]
expended two officers and a private. It had like to have proved a
business of the most serious nature. The Hero of Barrosa rowed us
all most terribly for unsteadiness. The real fact is he himself
was in fault, having been in front with a parcel of A.D.C.'s and
staff, and other tom-fools; not being in their places, and gaping
about, they came suddenly in contact with a French cavalry picket,
upon which D.I.O.[68] was the word full speed. Our advance gave
them a fire and frightened their animals, who ran furiously between
our columns. We mistook the business for a charge of cavalry, and
unfortunately a fire ensued. Several generals were spilt and run
down. The affair was ludicrous enough. I was at the head of the
column, but escaped by my horse tumbling head and heels into a
ditch--a species of good luck, for I was running the gauntlet."

All this firing, of course, put an end to surprise, and by the time that order was restored and the advance resumed, Soult and his five thousand had slipped away. After a short stay at Llerena, Graham moved on to the ground upon which had been fought the battle of Albuhera; and while there the troops heard in the distance the desperate firing which resulted in the capture of Badajoz.

It will be remembered that, twice during the previous year, the fortress had been besieged and unsuccessfully assailed. On each of those occasions Wellington had directed his attack from the north, intending first to capture the detached work of St Christoval, in order to establish batteries there preparatory to an assault on the castle. For his third attempt he adopted a new plan, and decided to attack from the south, capturing the Picurina outwork, breaching the bastions opposite to it, and then delivering the assault. The trenches were pushed rapidly forward; Picurina was carried by assault on the night of the 25th March, and the breaching batteries were immediately established. For ten days they battered the walls of the fortress, until the necessary breaches were effected, when Wellington gave immediate orders for the assault to take place; and on the night of the 6th-7th April 1812 occurred one of the most bloody struggles in the annals of war--a struggle the horrors of which lived in the memories of the surviving assailants for ever afterwards. The breaches defied all attempts; time after time assaults were delivered and beaten back; and the ditch became filled with dead and wounded. Elsewhere, however, fortune favoured the assailants, the 3rd Division entering the place by the San Vincente bastion. Thus Wellington captured his second fortress in 1812, but at the cost of 5000 men out of the 21,000 engaged.

The scenes which followed the fall of the place are indescribable; the victorious troops gave themselves up to plunder and licentiousness of every description. Drink drove them mad, and no one could control them. There is no denying the fact that fearful crimes were committed by the British soldiers in Badajoz that night, for each man carried his loaded musket and his bayonet, and brooked no interference with his revels. Yet these men were not hardened criminals, for in their sober moments they would have shuddered at the very mention of such crimes as, under the influence of drink, they themselves committed. They started to enjoy themselves--to hold high carnival--but they were drunk with success at the outset, and, even before the wine-vaults had been sacked, the carnival became the wildest and most lawless ever held. But with this great tragedy scraps of comedy occasionally mingled, and some of the scenes would, at any other time, have been considered highly entertaining. Dressed as monks and nuns, or wearing the gay clothes of Spanish ladies, grizzled and begrimed veterans danced and sang through the streets; and when eventually they were driven out of the town, they wended their way to their bivouacs, wearing these same garments, and staggering under the weight of such plunder as they had collected.

Quartermaster Surtees, who had an opportunity of seeing for himself many of the horrors of this night and of the next day, tells the hideous tale, in his 'Twenty-five Years in the Rifle Brigade,' sufficiently fully to enable one to realise how utterly demoralised a well-disciplined army can become almost at a moment's notice. His remarks on the reason for this are of particular value, because he had risen from the ranks and was intimately acquainted with human nature as represented by the private soldier, and because he was a man who thought deeply. He concludes his account of the sacking of Badajoz in the following words:--

"An English army is, perhaps, generally speaking, under stricter
discipline than any other in the world; but in proportion as they
are held tight while they are in hand, if circumstances occur to
give them liberty I know of no army more difficult to restrain when
once broke loose. A reason may perhaps be assigned for it in part.
On such occasions as this siege, where they were long and much
exposed to fatigue almost insupportable, to the most trying scenes of
difficulty and danger, which were generally borne with cheerfulness
and alacrity, they perhaps reasoned with themselves and one another
in this manner,--that, as they had borne so much and so patiently to
get possession of the place, it was but fair that they should have
some indulgence when their work and trials were crowned with success,
especially as the armies of other powers make it a rule generally to
give an assaulted fortress up to plunder. They had also become quite
reckless of life from so long exposure to death; but an English army
cannot plunder like the French. The latter keep themselves more sober
and look more to the solid and substantial benefit to be derived from
it, while the former sacrifice everything to drink, and when once
in a state of intoxication, with all the bad passions set loose at
the same time, I know not what they will hesitate to perpetrate. The
reader will judge of the state of our soldiers who had been engaged
in the siege when Lord Wellington found it absolutely necessary to
order in a Portuguese brigade to force the stragglers out of the town
at the point of the bayonet."

Major Rice's next letter was written on the _10th April 1812, from Camp in front of the Albuhera River, Beresford's position of the late bloody fight_--

"Since we crossed the Guadiana on the 16th March, of which I
hastily apprised you, this _Corps d'armée_ has been, I may almost
say unceasingly, in motion, having made nearly the circuit of
Southern Estramadura, the object of which was to force the French
from the towns and positions they occupied, and to throw every
impediment in the way of concentration. In our numerous night
marches, with a view to surprise, we have in general failed, owing
to the very superior intelligence of our active enemy. Some good,
however, may have resulted, though they very speedily retraced
their steps, and yesterday they appeared in force within a league
of this, but I believe nothing more than a strong reconnaissance of
cavalry. Report now says they are off and our dragoons advancing,
but it is of little consequence, since they could not relieve
Badajoz. This, I hope, will go by the packet which takes the
intelligence of the capture of Badajoz by assault. The particulars
of the gallant but bloody business you will have in a better shape
than I can give you. It was the most awful and tremendous firing I
ever heard. We have had the good luck to escape, though our labour
and anxiety for this last twenty days has been such as to claim
attention as assisting in the glorious cause.

"I have just been reconnoitring the ground of the battle of
Albuhera, and have been conceited enough to think that even I could
have managed it better. The blundering was great,[69] and terrible
the sacrifice. Boots, caps, jackets, _et cetera_, are still kicking
about--in short, it is the richest 'bed of honour' I have seen for
a long while. If the French come on we are to act the farce over
again on the same boards. I am scribbling this upon my knees amidst
the greatest confusion of noises you ever heard--Babel a joke!
Marmont, we hear, is not idle, and has invested Rodrigo. If so, we
must again trot up to the north. No end to our labour. I am a good
deal done up, but still hold on. I have not yet been into Badajoz.
The confusion terrible, as you may suppose, after an assault, and
given up to plunder. An order has this moment arrived to move to
our front, I suppose to give chase. Soult has heard of our success,
and I believe has thought it advisable to face about."

On the 19th April he wrote again, from Niza:--

"The morning after I last wrote to you we broke up from the
position of Albuhera and made an advance movement on Santa Martha.
Soult was within two leagues with 30,000. He made a little show
with cavalry, but thought proper to retire with his infantry,
having heard of the fall of Badajoz. Had it not fallen it is
thought that a general action must have taken place, which was to
have been tried again upon the same ground--but this, I think,
I before stated. I, and we all, thought of a chase; but no, for
suddenly operations were changed. Our lord had heard that Marmont
was playing the devil in the north, and had pushed to Castello
Branco and Villa Velha to destroy the bridge of boats. The latter
was not actually done _by the enemy_, but in the general panic it
was cut adrift, which has occasioned some trouble in restoring.
The plain truth and matter of fact is that a deep game has been
playing, for had not Badajoz _miraculously_ fallen the siege must
have been raised, we not having force to contend and resist the
two divisions. We are now going all hands pell-mell north as hard
as we can. Several divisions have crossed the Tagus--our turn
to-morrow. God knows what is going to be done, as reports are so
various. One thing is pretty clear: Marmont and his Goths have
behaved with their usual barbarity, having destroyed and sacked
most of the unfortunate towns which had previously escaped. Never
in this world was so cruel and distressing warfare waged. It cannot
last; the misery is too great to be endured, and all for what? Our
army, pretty well jaded to death by one thing or other, cannot
stand the incessant fatigue. The sickness is alarming, and every
regiment worked to nothing. No energy whatever on the part of the
Spaniards--at least not that I have seen. We shall in a few days
pass the Coa, if Mr Frenchman will permit. I expect opposition; at
all events he will annoy, and destroy the bridges. When we have
arrived at Rodrigo, Soult will again show himself before Badajoz
and down we shall come again, and so on until we are done up. You
see I am not more sanguine as to general results than yourself. I
am sorry to see so little hope. You can form no idea of the scene
at Badajoz; no place was ever so sacked--and a variety of other
things--_nameless_! The weather is horrible; constantly wet, and
little covering."

The somewhat desponding tone of this letter is perhaps an indication of the writer's weariness of soul--a weariness produced by constant marching about without any apparent prospect of doing any good. The senior regimental officers, who had the welfare of their men at heart, and who understood, from long experience, that the soldiers' powers of endurance had limits, ever dreaded a breakdown, and their fears grew greater when they saw their regiment being harassed for no clear purpose. This is evident from their letters, as is also the fact that when once they knew that they were marching for the definite object of meeting the enemy and of giving battle, they cast aside their fears and prepared their men for the coming struggle. But let us get behind the scenes and see what was really happening at this particular time.

After the capture of Badajoz Wellington spent no time in inaction. General Graham was placed in command of the fallen fortress, and was given sufficient men to repair its defences and prevent its recapture by the enemy; while the bulk of the army marched away. Soult, who had been hastening from the south to the relief of the French garrison, and who had been held in check by the covering troops, on hearing that all was over, turned about and withdrew towards Seville. Marmont, however, had succeeded, while the siege was in progress, in invading Portugal and penetrating to Castello Branco. Wellington now advanced against him; but the French general, forbidden by Napoleon to attempt to form a junction with Soult, saw that little was to be gained by advancing farther. His first impulse was to fight, but he remembered that the rivers in his rear were in flood and would impede his withdrawal in the event of defeat, so he deemed it more prudent to retire behind the line of the Agueda river, and there await developments.

Meanwhile Wellington was straining every nerve to meet the heavy combinations which the French were bringing against him. King Joseph, in supreme command of the French in the Peninsula, was in occupation of Madrid, and thence issued orders to his subordinate generals, who, however, lacked confidence in the military plans of their chief--a fact which proved of the greatest advantage to Wellington. United action on the part of the French generals would have placed the Allies in a grave situation; but fortunately the three French armies were at this time widely separated, and Wellington contrived so to deceive his adversaries that they were quite unable to say against which force he intended to operate. Soult in Andalusia felt certain that the Allies would invade that province; King Joseph imagined that the Spanish capital would be the immediate objective; while Marmont, away to the north, had every reason to believe that Wellington was bringing all his strength against him. As a matter of fact, the original intention of the British commander had been to carry the war into Andalusia, but, abandoning the idea (for political and military reasons), he determined to attack Marmont. Yet, by means of false reports and ostentatious movements, he contrived to continue to deceive Soult as to his real plans.

Before following Marmont, however, Wellington deemed it necessary to prevent Soult and the army of Andalusia from reinforcing him. Soult, south of the Tagus, would have to cross that river before marching to the assistance of Marmont; his pontoon trains had been captured in Badajoz, and the only means of crossing the river was by the bridge of boats which Marmont had constructed at Almaraz. The importance of this crossing was well known to the French, who had consequently thrown up three strong forts and a bridge-head to protect it; but the destruction of Almaraz, with its bridge and its stores, was essential to Wellington's plans, and, though doubtful of the possibility of its being carried out, he ordered General Hill to make the attempt. As events turned out, the surprise of Almaraz was one of the boldest enterprises of the war, and by the 18th May Hill had done all that was required of him. But until the work had been completed, whither Hill had taken his force and for what purpose were things known only to Wellington, who had halted the remainder of his army to await news of the result of Hill's mission.

Writing from _Castello Branco, 22nd May 1812_, Major Rice describes what was going on--

"Hill's corps has marched upon Almaraz, to destroy the bridge
across the Tagus. The object, it may be conjectured, is to
prevent Marmont or anybody else crossing. I venture not to
speculate further. What our lord is about I know not. Guinaldo
is his headquarters. I suppose he is planning something great
and glorious. Touching ourselves--the 7th Division--no talk of
moves; an unusually long respite from toil, and much in favour
of boots, shoes, and horseflesh. Our assizes have been going on
since our arrival, and likely to continue. Much business on hand.
I am on the jury. We generally hang or shoot half a dozen fellows,
notwithstanding every soldier is a gentleman and a man of honour,
and receives votes of thanks from both Houses of Parliament, which
he does not value so much as a pot of Whitbread's Entire."

From the latter part of this letter it is evident that Wellington had taken the opportunity of some leisure time to overhaul the discipline of his army, and his methods were drastic in the extreme. Even before he had witnessed the outrages committed by his men at Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajoz, he had been appalled by the indiscipline of his troops in disregarding orders concerning marauding. The British army was operating in a friendly country, and it was therefore all the more important that the inhabitants and their property should be treated with due respect. The French, on the other hand, were at war with Spain, and if, therefore, they pillaged and laid waste as they went along, it was perhaps no more than the inhabitants expected, though it is only fair to the French generals to state that, as a rule, they did all in their power to suppress marauding and pillage. It must be admitted that it was most difficult to impress upon the British soldiers, marching on the heels of the French through a country already pillaged, that it was a sin to take the goods of the people, and doubtless at an early stage of the war the men got into the habit of taking from the inhabitants of the villages any food or provisions of which they were in want. As time passed matters went from bad to worse, and the men did not stop at food, but began to plunder the inhabitants of their money and valuables. Wine-cellars were discovered and entered, with the result that drunkenness and outrages of every description became common. Wellington, alive to the gravity of the situation, issued stringent orders which, had they been carried out, would have put an end to these evils; but there were no means of carrying them out, and all this he represented from time to time to the home authorities. He pointed out that under existing circumstances it was impossible to bring home to the offenders the offences which they had committed, and he recommended wider powers to courts-martial and the formation of military police. He did not complain of the discipline of regiments as a whole, but he wrote in the strongest terms about the absence of discipline to be found in detachments, which, of necessity, were always out in various parts of the country; and he drew particular attention to the number of malingerers who filled the hospitals principally for the purpose of plundering when on the march. "The disorders which these soldiers have," wrote Wellington to Lord Liverpool, "are of a very trifling description; they are considered to render them incapable of serving with their regiments; but they certainly do not incapacitate them from committing outrages of all descriptions on their passage through the country, and in the last movements of the hospitals, the soldiers have not only plundered the inhabitants of their property, but the hospital stores which moved with the hospitals, and have sold the plunder. And all these outrages are committed with impunity; no proof can be brought, on oath, before a court-martial that any individual has committed an outrage, and the soldiers of the army are becoming little better than a band of robbers."

On the top of all this came the wild orgies which accompanied the sacking of Badajoz; and Wellington determined to adopt the strongest measures in order to restore the discipline of his army. We may say here, and without in any way belittling the military genius of England's greatest soldier, that Wellington knew nothing of the finer processes of producing and maintaining discipline among British soldiers. He was not of the school of Sir John Moore. He had no sympathy with the soldier, or indeed with the officer. He spoke of the men who won his victories for him as the scum of the earth and as the sweepings of the jails, and he treated them always with coldness, amounting almost to contempt. Probably he was the hardest master under whom men ever served, for at all times he governed by the lash, and he never hesitated to shoot or hang an unfortunate soldier, if he deemed it necessary to make an example. That these executions were not sometimes necessary we do not pretend to say, but the method of carrying them out, in the face of the whole army, served only to brutalise it. Officers and men became callous even of the capital punishment, and judging by the letter quoted above, Major Rice thought little of condemning to death half a dozen men for possibly trivial offences. Several of Wellington's generals, taking their cue from their chief, flogged and hanged freely, with the result that there was no love lost between them and their men; but, like the dog who licks the hand that beat him, these soldiers would follow their commanders without questioning, and perform for them prodigious acts of valour. Few of the Peninsular generals were really popular with their men, but Graham and Hill were exceptions. The latter, though a brilliant leader, was always sympathetic, and endeared himself to all ranks, who spoke of him among themselves as "Daddy Hill," though he was barely old enough to have been the father of any of them.

The feelings which the soldiers had towards Wellington ("Old Douro," as they called him) are well described by an officer of the 51st:[70]--

"Where is the British soldier who ever saw him on the field of
battle that felt not within himself, though ten times his number
stood in his front opposed to him, that that field must be one
of victory? Wherever he was, with his calm countenance, on those
occasions always with a smile upon it, the soldiers would say,
'Ay, there he goes, boys. All's right.' And forward they rushed,
careless of danger or numbers, and thus driving the French out
of the strongest and most impregnable positions--such was their
confidence in his talents and good fortune. And these were not
the sentiments of the private soldier alone, but the deep-rooted
feeling of every individual in that army. We followed, we fought
for him, but though he won our confidence, he never gained our
love."

These words were written after the Peninsular War and after Waterloo, and scores of Wellington's officers wrote of their chief in a similar strain. But in earlier Peninsular days, before the regimental officers and the men had discovered their commander's greatness, they had no great confidence in him, and they were wont to grumble at his orders and to criticise his actions. Many of his earlier subordinate generals, although quite ignorant of war, saw something wrong in everything that Wellington did, and their removal to a less active sphere in England gave these detractors the opportunity of spreading calumnies about the only capable head which the army then possessed. Wellington, however, survived all this and much more, and as the war went on, the voice of the army changed, until, in the end, there were few officers conceited enough to venture to doubt the wisdom of his plans, and few of the rank and file who had not absolute faith in everything that he did. He established among both officers and men a reputation for infallibility, and he convinced them of his instinctive genius for war. That he lacked the ability to gain their affections was nothing to them, and it is certain that, in spite of those who maintain that popularity with the troops is essential to military genius, if any of his Peninsular or Waterloo veterans were alive to-day, they would still hold Wellington to be the greatest of British generals, even though they might admit that he was a hard master, and one who never forgot and seldom forgave.

Long after he had fought his last battle--even to the end of his days, Wellington upheld his harsh code of punishment, and he resisted strenuously, with all the weight of his opinion, every attempt to diminish flogging in the army in times of peace. Not until twelve years after his death was this put an end to, and not until 1882 was flogging on active service finally swept away by the Army Discipline Act. Old and tried officers held views similar to those of the great Duke,--by the lash alone could the discipline of the army be maintained; and no greater supporter of corporal punishment can be found than that high-minded leader of men, Sir William Napier, the historian of the Peninsular War. He was a man acknowledged to have been beloved--even worshipped by all ranks, as the epitome of all that was just and sympathetic, a man who wrote of British soldiers, as a class, as the most noble of men; yet, in 1846, he put all his vast powers of reasoning into a letter to 'The Times', in order to inveigh against what he considered the sentimental spirit of modern times which desired the abolition, or reduction, of flogging in the army. He firmly believed in the lash for certain offences as a deterrent of crime, and no one knew and understood the British soldier of his time better than did Sir William Napier. We can only conclude, therefore, that the times have changed, and the men with them; for thirty years' immunity from the lash has resulted in no harm to the British army.