Chapter X: Appendix: , No. I.--Storming of San Sebastian 493 (9)

To interrupt the communications of the French marshals, to whom he was about to oppose himself, was an object of paramount importance, and it was determined that an attempt should be made upon the pontoons and works at Almarez, it being the only passage practicable to an army, since the permanent bridges on the Tagus, from Arzobispo downwards, had been blown up. The French, aware of the value of this important passage, adopted every means within their power to protect it from being surprised, or assaulted with success. Both banks of the river were jealously fortified--the left of the Tagus being protected by a _tête-du-pont_[178] regularly intrenched and flanked, and commanded by Fort Napoleon--a strong redoubt placed on the high ground above the bridge. The fort was secured by an interior intrenchment, with a loopholed tower in the centre armed with nine pieces of cannon, and a garrison of four hundred men. Fort Ragusa, similar in strength and construction, commanded the right bank: it flanked the bridge with which it was connected by a _flêche_. At a league’s distance, a pass for carriages, called the Puerto de Miravete, winds through a steep sierra, and opens on an expanse of barren country entirely overrun with the gum-cistus.[179] There an old castle, standing on the crest of the heights, was fortified and surrounded by an enciente twelve feet high. The large venta on the road side was formed into a place of defence-- and with the two smaller works that connected it with the castle on the brow of the hill, altogether formed a line of very considerable strength.

To destroy the bridge and works was a task intrusted to Sir Rowland Hill; and on the 12th of May, he moved from Almandralejo, with part of the second division and six 24-pound howitzers. He reached Jaraicejo early on the 16th, within eight miles of the summit of the pass--and there dividing his force into three columns, to each a separate duty was assigned. The left brigade under General Chowne, were directed to escalade the castle of Miravete, and for this purpose were provided with ropes and ladders. The centre, under General Long, with the howitzers, marched by the great road to attack the Puerto; while by a devious and rugged footway, Sir Rowland himself moved by Romangordo, to carry the bridge-works upon the right. The columns moved the same evening, but owing to the difficulties of the ground they could not reach their intended points of attack before daybreak. Sir Rowland, therefore, deferred the attempt until he should personally examine the works, and the troops bivouacked on the sierra.

It proved that the castle, from its peculiar position, would require time to secure its reduction--and the least delay must prove fatal to success. General Chowne was therefore ordered to make a false attack with the left brigade, while the right, under General Howard, should steal down the broken side of the sierra, and attempt Fort Napoleon by a _coup de main_.

The plan, notwithstanding that many unexpected obstacles delayed the columns of attack, succeeded. The French, never supposing that the bridge would be attempted until the pass was first carried, and a passage opened for the guns, were astounded soon after daybreak, on seeing the 50th and a wing of the 71st rush from the cover of a hill, and commence an escalade in three different places. After a sharp resistance, they abandoned the fort, and rushing through the _tête-du-pont_, retreated over the bridge to find shelter, as they hoped, in Fort Ragusa. But the coward who commanded there, panic-struck, had already destroyed the communication; and in a vain attempt to avoid the bayonets of their assailants who followed them pell-mell, many perished in the Tagus, and the remainder, amounting to two hundred and fifty, including the governor, were made prisoners. Fort Ragusa was abandoned by the commandant, and the redoubt, _tête-du-pont_, pontoons, and carriages, with an immense quantity of stores, were destroyed, the victors in this brilliant affair having sustained but a very inconsiderable loss. The commandant of Fort Ragusa retreated to Navalmoral. There he was placed under arrest--tried by a court-martial, and shot at Talavera, a fate the cowardly desertion of his own comrades so richly merited.[180]

Sir Rowland retired without molestation by the Truxillo road, and took up his former quarters at Merida. Too late, the intelligence of his march had reached the French marshals--and though both took instant measures to save the bridge and intercept the expedition, their efforts were unavailing. Marmont reached the Tagus “too late to prevent the evil, and without the means of repairing it;” and Soult, finding that the British rear-guard had already passed Truxillo, gave up the hope of overtaking it, and retired to Seville.

A less fortunate attempt by Ballasteros, was made on the French works on the line of the Guadalete. A division of the army of Andalusia, of four thousand five hundred men, under General Corvoux, having occupied Bornos, the Spanish general assembled a force of six thousand at Majada de Ruiz over night, and crossed the Guadalete unnoticed. But, notwithstanding a surprise, the French easily repulsed the attack; and Ballasteros was driven across the river in confusion, and with the loss of a fourth of his entire force.

Nothing can prove the miserable inefficiency of the Spanish troops more strongly, than the result of this wretched attempt on Bornos. Every circumstance favoured it: in force they were stronger by a fourth; and yet an enemy inferior in number, and taken by surprise, not only routed their assailants, but would have literally destroyed them, had not the friendly waters of the Guadalete covered their ignominious flight.

ADVANCE FROM THE AGUEDA, TO THE BATTLE OF SALAMANCA.

Lord Wellington crosses the frontier.--Advances on Salamanca.--The
convents besieged.--Marmont attempts their relief.--Operations of
the French army.--Assault on Cayetano fails.--San Vicente set on
fire.--Cayetano breached.--Both carried by the allies.--Marmont
retires.--Is reinforced and advances.--Wellington falls back.--
Operations on both sides.--A tempestuous night.--Observations.

Early in June, the British divisions began to concentrate; and on the 13th, the cantonments on the Agueda were broken up, and Lord Wellington crossed the frontier.

The condition of the army was excellent, and the most exact discipline was preserved, while all unnecessary parades were dispensed with. The march ended, the soldier enjoyed all the comforts he could command-- if foot-sore, he had rest to recruit; if untired, he had permission to amuse himself. His arms and appointments were rigidly inspected, his supper cooked, his bivouac formed,[181] and at sunrise he rose at the _reveille_, to resume, with light heart and “gallant hope,” the march that was to lead to victory.

The weather was fine--and as the route lay principally through forest lands, nothing could be more picturesque and beautiful than the country which the line of march presented. The wooded landscape displayed its verdure under the sunny influence of a cloudless sky, and singularly contrasted its summer green with the snow-topped pinnacles of the Sierra de Gata. No enemy appeared--for days the march was leisurely continued--until, on clearing the forest at Valmasa, the German Hussars in advance, had a slight skirmish with a French picket in front of Salamanca.

This city, celebrated for its antiquity, and noted in the middle ages as foremost among the most celebrated schools of learning, was destined to witness a fresh triumph of British bravery. The situation of Salamanca is bold and imposing, standing on high ground on the right bank of the Tormes, and surrounded by a fine champaign country, divested of wood, but interspersed with numerous clay-built villages. A Roman road can still be traced without the town--while a portion of the bridge across the Tormes, consisting of twenty-seven arches, is supposed to have been constructed when the Eternal City was mistress of the world.

The Duke of Ragusa, aware of the advance of the allies, collected all his disposable force, and occupied the heights south of the river; but during the night he evacuated the city--leaving the forts he had constructed, amply stored with provisions and ammunition, and garrisoned by eight hundred men.

Early next morning, the light brigade advanced, and cautiously felt its way through the villages which were found to be unoccupied. The whole army approached the city by brigades, and passing in open column of companies, the divisions moved barely out of cannon-shot of the fort, and directed their march on the fords of Santa Martha and El Campo, while the French stood upon the ramparts of San Vicente, looking with marked interest on the allied masses as they defiled across the plain.

The sixth division took possession of the city, while the others bivouacked in its immediate vicinity--and nothing could surpass the delight of the inhabitants, when they found themselves liberated from a bondage which they had endured for three long years. The men shouted their vivas,--the women caressed their deliverers,--while in the evening, music and dancing marked the general joy; and the illuminated streets might have been seen at the distance of many leagues.

But it was only for a brief time that the advance of the allies was interrupted. The convent of San Vicente, placed on a perpendicular cliff rising from the bed of the Tormes, had been fortified by Marmont with admirable skill. It was connected at either side with the old wall by a line of works, its windows built up and crenellated, and the re-entering angle secured by a fascine battery, palisaded in front, and defended by a loop-holed wall. A steep descent towards the bridge was separated from the opposite high grounds by a small rivulet that joined the Tormes--while the convents of La Merced and Cayetano, on the farther bank of the stream, were converted into strong redoubts, and ditched, escarped, and casemated. No pains had been spared by the French engineers to render these works respectable. The inhabitants had been obliged to lend their unwilling assistance; while, from the ruins of thirteen convents, and two-and-twenty colleges, the best materials for gates, palisades, and drawbridges, had been obtained. A place so capable of defence, could not be left occupied by a hostile garrison in the rear of an advancing army. It must of necessity be reduced--and on the night of the 17th, the sixth division broke ground, and in full moonlight commenced erecting a breaching battery.

Unforseen obstacles in warfare will frequently render the best-devised plans abortive. The vigilance of a dog saved the counterscarp of San Vicente from being blown up, and the miners failed, after suffering a heavy loss from a plunging fire, from which they could not protect themselves. Carcasses were tried without effect. The guns, four long eighteens, and four 24-pound howitzers, breached slowly, and it was the third morning before the lower wall of the convent was blown down. Its sudden fall brought the roof along with it, and a number of the defenders, then firing through the loop-holes, were buried in the ruins.

Marmont, who had retired from Salamanca with great reluctance, was actively engaged, in the mean time, in collecting reinforcements to enable him to recover the position he had abandoned. Breaking up from Fuente Sabrico he advanced with sixty thousand men, determined to offer battle. A sustained cannonade along his line of march apprized the besieged garrisons that succour was approaching, and Lord Wellington made the necessary dispositions for a battle. The allied army were drawn up upon the heights; the left resting on a chapel and ravine,-- the centre occupying the village of San Christolat,[182]--and the right formed on a high ground in front of Castellanos de los Moriscos. The advanced posts retired, and a smart cannonade was maintained by the batteries on both sides--and although both were ready for a battle, neither would give a chance away. Several well-executed manœuvres in front of the British position producing no important result, Marmont fell back upon the flat grounds beside the village of Villares, his right upon the road to Toro, and his left in Castellanos.

Morning broke, and found the allies under arms. That day some reinforcements reached the French, but Marmont would not venture to attack. Wellington remained on the defensive, and the rival armies bivouacked quietly in each other’s presence. The weather was sultry; the heights unsheltered by a single tree; and as both wood and water were of necessity brought from Salamanca, the allies had but an indifferent supply of either. The French were better off; their bivouacs embraced several villages in the plain, the roofs and woodwork of the houses yielding materials for their watchfires, while the wells afforded a sufficiency of water,--an immense advantage indeed to an army when operating beneath an ardent sun.

Another day passed; but during the night Marmont seized an eminence on the right flank of the allied line, and occupied it in some strength, and it was deemed necessary to dislodge him. The 58th and 61st were ordered to attack the height: it was carried in fine style, and no attempt was made by the French marshal to retake it.

On the following evening, Marmont changed his position, and endeavoured to communicate with the garrisons of San Vicente and the redoubts. His right now occupied the heights at Cabeza Vellosa, his left rested on the Tormes at Huerta, and his centre in Aldea Rubia. A correspondent movement was made by Lord Wellington. His right was extended to San Martha, his advance to Aldea Lingua, and the heavy cavalry were detached across the river to check any attempt upon the fords.

The weather continued warm and dry, and as the whole surface of the position was covered with ripe corn, it supplied, in ample quantity forage for the horses and beds to the soldiery. The country was unwooded, and the only shelter from an ardent sun was obtained by stretching blankets over sticks, and securing the edges to the ground. For this simple luxury, Lord Wellington was indebted to a private of the 43rd, as his own accommodation was on a par with the humblest soldier. From break of day he occupied a height in the centre of the position, watching the movements of the French; his staff, from time to time, visiting him for orders. His meals were plainly served and rapidly despatched--and when night came, wrapped in his cloak, “the earth his bed, the sky his canopy,” he slept on the same sward upon which his splendid divisions were reposing.

While the allied forces remained in position on the heights, the 6th division pressed the siege of San Vicente and the dependent forts, as vigorously as their very limited means of aggression would permit. The breaching battery erected against Cayetano having destroyed the palisades and injured the parapet, General Bowes, considering that an assault might succeed, attempted to carry it by escalade. Under a tremendous fire two ladders were reared against the wall; but the foremost of the assailants were shot, and the storming party were repulsed with the loss of their gallant leader, and one hundred and twenty killed and wounded. As the attack was made at sunset, the increased firing was distinctly heard by both armies. Gradually it slackened,--at length nearly died away,--and three rockets, thrown up from the fort, apprized Marmont that the assault had failed. The signal was answered by several rounds of artillery from the French position on the right. The musketry than ceased totally, and the remainder of the night passed undisturbed.

The morning of the 24th was obscured by a dense fog;--a brisk firing was heard beyond the river, but it was impossible to ascertain, from the thickness of the atmosphere, in what numbers the French movement was being made. At last the sun broke out, and Bock’s heavy dragoons were seen retiring before a division which Marmont had thrown across the Tormes before daylight. Directly, the 1st and 7th divisions were sent to support the cavalry. The French hesitated to attack,-- manœuvred until evening,--then repassed the river, and bivouacked on the ground they had quitted in the morning.

A quiet day succeeded. A supply of ammunition for the breaching batteries had arrived from Almeida, a spirited cannonade ensued, the British guns firing on San Vicente with hot shot. The inflammable materials with which the fort was built could not endure this destructive cannonade. The square tower was speedily in a blaze--and in a brief space of time it was totally consumed, while during the night the outworks were frequently on fire, and at ten o’clock next morning the whole convent was in flames. A breach had been made in the gorge of Cayetano, and the troops formed for the assault, when a white flag from the forts and redoubt announced that the garrisons of both would treat for a surrender. But delay appeared the chief object of the French commandant. Three hours were required by him before he should capitulate, and five minutes was the brief space that would be granted by the besiegers, and when that time elapsed the storming parties rushed forward,--the bastions were carried with feeble resistance, and San Vicente with trifling loss. Thirty-six pieces of cannon, seven hundred prisoners, and a quantity of stores and clothing, fell into the hands of the victors, who had lost some valuable officers and four hundred and fifty men before these well-defended works.

At midnight Marmont commenced retiring,--and when day broke, his columns were in full march, and his rear-guard quitting its ground. The French set fire to the villages they had occupied, leaving behind them an exhausted country and an exasperated people. Nothing, indeed, could exceed the deadly hatred that actuated the peasantry against their oppressors, while the friendliest feelings were manifested towards the British, who were by every class regarded as deliverers. In Salamanca all was triumph and festivity. High mass was celebrated in the cathedral,[183] a grand dinner given by the commander of the allies, and a ball by the Junta in the evening was attended by the noblesse of the city, and witnessed the beauty of Spain united to the chivalry of Britain.

Marmont retired by Tora and Tordesillas on the Douro, and the allies, following his line of march, bivouacked on the Guarena. The French marshal frequently made demonstrations as if he intended to make a stand; but aware that he should soon possess a numerical superiority over his able opponent, he only manœuvred to gain time, while leisurely falling back upon the line of the Douro, of which he possessed the whole command. This gave the French marshal an immense advantage over his antagonist. He held the bridges, and of course had the means of crossing when he pleased--while on the whole river from the mouth of the Pisuerga to Zamora, the ford of Castro Nuno, three leagues above Toro, was the only point by which an army could be passed over in the presence of an enemy.

If the French marshal had this admitted advantage on his side, in the possession of the line of the Douro, he had certainly other difficulties to embarrass him. The guerillas were in force on his flanks and in his rear, intercepting his convoys, and giving full occupation to a part of his corps that were required for a different service. These irregular bands were incessantly on the alert, crippling his resources, and cutting off stragglers and supplies. Sormel and Bombon were on his right; Julian Sanchez on the left; Porlier disturbed the country between him and the Asturias; and Mina and Duran infested Navarre and Aragon. No wonder that Marmont awaited Bonnet’s junction, with a portion of the army of the north, with great anxiety. It was effected safely, and the Duke of Ragusa was now numerically superior to his rival, the entire French _corps d’armée_, amounting to forty-seven thousand men.

This increase of strength, when united to other considerations, induced Wellington to decide on falling back towards the frontier of Portugal. His military chest was nearly exhausted--supplies must be exacted, after the iniquitous system of the French, or the army subjected to privations; and the very difficulty he must have found in removing his wounded to the frontier, in the event of a hostile collision, would have been quite sufficient to deter a cautious general, and one so particular in attention to his troops when disabled, from courting a battle on the banks of the Douro.

Marmont lost no time in concentrating between Toro and San Roman. He passed the river on the evening of the 16th, while Wellington moved the allies to Canizal and Fuente le Pena. This was, however, a feint on the French marshal’s part. At night he recrossed the Douro, made a rapid movement on Tordesillas, passed the river there, and early on the 18th reached the Trebancos, after marching forty miles. This movement was well designed and ably executed. By it Marmont had placed himself in direct communication with the army of the Centre, then moving from the capital to his support--while an advance to Castrejon, endangered Anson’s brigade of cavalry, and the fourth and light divisions.

As morning broke, the outlying pickets in front of Castrejon were alarmed by a distant firing, which momently became louder and more sustained. Presently Bock’s brigade were observed retiring before the enemy’s dragoons and light artillery. The British retreated by scattered squadrons, and thus avoided the certain loss that a cannonade would occasion cavalry retiring in dense masses. The infantry fell back in perfect order--and though severely pressed by the French divisions, threatened by the dragoons, and occasionally under a fire of forty guns, reached the Guarena with trifling loss.[184]

The bed of the river was nearly dry, but the troops found its scanty waters a luxury above price, after a ten miles’ march at times over vast corn-fields reaching above the knee, and under a vertical sun, whose heat was most oppressive. The retreat was resumed again, when the French cavalry galloped up a hill commanding the line of march, with the intention of holding the division in check, until the infantry could overtake and bring it to action. But the British had neared their reserves, and, tired of retreating, halted and shewed front. A French brigade accepted the challenge, and advanced instantly to the attack. The 27th and 40th regiments, led on by General Cole, threw in a close volley, cheered, and crossed bayonets; the enemy broke, the English cavalry galloped in--and a general (Carrier), one gun, and three hundred prisoners, were captured in the charge. The allied loss in the different affairs of the 18th amounted to five hundred _hors de combat_.

That night, the allied troops halted on the Guarena, their right extending beyond Canizal, and the left resting on Castrillo, while the French bivouacked on the opposite side of the valley. Fires blazed along the lines of either army, and the outposts lay so near each other “_that the fixed sentinels almost received the secret whispers of each other’s watch_.”

The night passed without alarm--all remained quiet until the following day--when, at two o’clock, Marmont again marched by his left on Tanazora, endeavouring to turn the right of the allies. A counter movement was made by Lord Wellington, both armies marching in nearly parallel lines,--while an occasional cannonade, and an extensive conflagration of corn ready for the sickle, told, at an immense distance, that the game of war was going on.

It was generally believed that a battle on the plains of Valesa was inevitable; and the troops bivouacked in two lines, and before daybreak were under arms. But with the first light, Marmont was seen again extending by his left, and the allies moved consequently in a parallel direction. Either commander might provoke an action, but neither seemed inclined to risk one. The French marshal’s design was very apparent. He kept the high ground, manœuvred to out-flank his opponent, and, should opportunity permit, attack him at advantage. His able antagonist, however, never gave the chance. The day passed in manœuvring, and that night the French held Babila, Fuente, and Villamesa; the allies, Cabesa and Aldea Lingua.

The 21st was also spent in flank marching, during which both commanders crossed the Tormes; the French by the fords of Alba and Huerta, and the allies by Santa Martha and the bridge of Salamanca. The hostile armies bivouacked again that night, and such a night can scarcely be imagined.

The evening was calm and sultry--but the extreme verge of the horizon became heavily overcast, and persons conversant with “skyey influences” might have easily foretold a coming storm. It was now dusk--big drops began to fall, some of the brigades had already reached the ground marked out for their night positions, the guns were parked, and the horses of the cavalry picketed. Others were, however, only moving to their bivouacs; and Pakenham’s, the third division, being separated from the remainder of the army by the Tormes, had guarded against sudden attack by intrenching the commanding height it rested on. Suddenly a torrent fell--the wind rose and swept across the open hills with amazing violence--the thunder-clouds burst--and, by the glare of lightning, the sparkling arms of infantry masses were visible over the whole extent of the position, as the last brigades pressed through the tempest to occupy their ground. No shelter the allied army could obtain could have averted a summer shower--and all in a few minutes were drenched to the skin; while the cavalry horses, scared by the lightning, broke from their picketings, and trampling upon their riders rushed madly to and fro, occasioning indescribable confusion. Many of the animals were recovered by the exertions of the dragoons, but numbers of the men were injured in the attempt, and thirty horses, having got within Marmont’s lines, were secured by the French. The allied position had its right upon one of two hills called the Arapiles; its left below the ford of Santa Martha; while its cavalry held Calvarasa de Abaxo. Marmont occupied Calvarasa de Arriba and a contiguous hill, called Neustra Senora de la Pena.

Nothing could be more imposing than the parallel movements of the rival armies during the last three days. Far as the eye could range, masses, apparently interminable, pursued their march with beautiful regularity--now displayed in brilliant sunshine as they swept over a contiguous height--now lost where an accidental dipping of the ground for a time concealed the column. Generally both armies abstained from hostile collision, by a sort of mutual consent; and excepting where the line of march brought the light troops into immediate proximity, or the occupation of a village produced a trifling fusilade, the grand movements of the rival hosts exhibited a “ceaseless march,” the leading columns pressing forward toward the Tormes, and the rear hidden from view “by dust and distance.”

The whole system of manœuvres, which marked the operations of the French marshal since Bonnet’s division had joined him on the Douro, shewed clearly that he only waited for a fitting moment to attack. The French army were in high spirits; while in numerical force they were formidable indeed, numbering forty-five thousand men, of whom four thousand were cavalry. Other circumstances were favourable to the commencement of active aggression by the French. The communications with the capital were open--reinforcements constantly arriving-- while a powerful accession of strength had approached the immediate neighbourhood of the scene of operations from the army of the North; a part of its cavalry and horse-artillery having already reached Pollos.

If Marmont was anxious to offer battle, the British general, for obvious reasons, was as willing to accept it. Aware of his opponent’s abilities in tactics, and apprised of the fine _matériel_ of the army he commanded, Lord Wellington was as confident in his own resources as in the indomitable courage of that soldiery which, under his leading, had been frequently assailed and never beaten. His own position was daily becoming more unsafe. For security, the stores deposited at Salamanca had been removed to the rear, consequently the maintenance of his army was endangered, as supplies from the depôts were tardily obtained. No difficulty, however, was experienced by the French in provisioning their army--every procurable necessary was exacted from the wretched inhabitants, who might curse, while they durst not oppose those who despoiled them of their property. Both commanders were anxious to try the issue of a contest. Vanity, in the one, urged Marmont to offer battle upon ground favourable for the movements of a force superior in number and perfect in every arm. Prudence, in Lord Wellington, aimed at results only to be effected by a victory. No wonder, then, that with such dispositions a conflict was inevitable. The decree had gone forth--a fiery trial of skill and valour must ensue--and well did a fearful night harbinger “a bloody morrow.”

BATTLE OF SALAMANCA.

Preliminary dispositions.--Marmont manœuvres to turn the right of
the Allies.--A false movement is seized on by Wellington, who
instantly attacks.--Opening, progress, and close of the battle of
Salamanca.

The morning was cloudy and threatening, and the dawn was ushered in by a sharp fusilade, in the direction of Calvarasa de Arriba. The enemy’s tirailleurs had occupied the heights of Senora de la Pena in considerable force,--and part of the seventh division, with the light cavalry of Victor Alten, were opposing their farther advance.

The British right was appuied upon the nearest of the Arapiles, and united itself with the extremity of a ridge, on which the divisions had taken their position on the preceding evening. Another hill, similarly named, rose from the plain at a distance of five hundred yards,--and as it commanded the right of the alignement, it was deemed advisable to possess it.

The French marshal, however, had entertained a similar design; and a wood favouring the unobserved advance of part of Bonnet’s division, the summit was occupied by the French with their 122nd regiment, and a brigade of guns.

Meanwhile the enemy commenced extending to the left, in the rear of the Arapiles, and formed on the skirts of a wood. As the movement of the columns brought them within cannon range, General Leith advanced a battery to a height in front of his position, and it opened with considerable effect. The French, obliged to retire, brought up a brigade of artillery to check the British guns. Their diagonal fire silenced the British battery,--and it was necessary, without delay, to retire the guns, and withdraw a troop of the 16th light dragoons, which, for their protection, had been drawn up under shelter of the hill. This perilous evolution was executed with complete success,--the ravine was passed at speed,--and with little loss, the artillery and light cavalry regained the position.

The day wore on,--the late tempest apparently had cleared the atmosphere,--all was bright and unclouded sunshine,--and over a wide expanse of undulating landscape, nothing obscured the range of sight but dust from the arid roads, or wreathing smoke occasioned by the spattering fire of the light troops. Marmont was busily manœuvring-- and Lord Wellington coolly noticing from a height the dispositions of his opponent, which as he correctly calculated would lead to a general engagement.

At noon, a combination of at least eight thousand men, moved from the rear of the Arapiles, and formed in front of the fifth division. Lord Wellington rode to the ground, and there found the division in perfect readiness for the anticipated attack. Perceiving at once that this movement was only a demonstration of the French marshal to mask his real designs, his lordship returned to the right, which was now the interesting point of the position.

Finding his feint upon the fifth division unsuccessful, Marmont put his columns into motion, and marching rapidly by his left, endeavoured to turn the right of the allies, and thus interpose between them and Ciudad Rodrigo. Under a heavy cannonade, his front and flank, covered by a cloud of skirmishers, and supported by a cavalry force that drove in the British dragoons and light troops, pressed forward to gain the Rodrigo road. But that hurried movement was badly executed by Marmont’s generals of division. Their extension was made with careless haste,-- the line consequently weakened--and this false manœuvre brought on the crisis of the day. The moment for action had come; and Lord Wellington seized the opportunity and struck the blow.

At two o’clock, when the French commenced extending by their left, the allied army was thus disposed. On the right, the fifth division (Leith’s) had moved behind the village of Arapiles, and had taken ground on the right of the fourth (Cole’s); the sixth and seventh, under Generals Clinton and Hope, formed a reserve; the third division (Pakenham’s), D’Urban’s cavalry, two squadrons of the 14th light dragoons, and a corps of Spanish infantry, were in position near Aldea Tejada. Bradford’s brigade, with Le Marchant’s heavy cavalry, were formed on the right, and in the rear of the fifth. The light division (Barnard’s) and the first (the Guards and Germans) were drawn up between the Arapiles and the Tormes in reserve. Cotton’s cavalry were formed in the rear of the third and fifth divisions; an artillery reserve, posted behind the dragoons, and in the rear of all the Spaniards, under Don Carlos D’Espana, appeared in the extreme distance, but entirely out of fire.

Marmont had remarked, and rode forward to correct the irregularity of his flank movement, and personally direct the débouchement of his third and fourth divisions from the wood that had partially concealed them. At that moment, Lord Wellington was seated on the hill-side, eating his hurried meal, while an aide-de-camp in attendance watched the enemy’s movements with a glass. The bustle then perceptible in the French line attracted his lordship’s notice, and he quickly inquired the cause. “They are evidently in motion,” was the reply.--“Indeed! what are they doing?”--“Extending rapidly to the left,” was answered. Lord Wellington sprang upon his feet, and seized the telescope; then muttering that Marmont’s good genius had deserted him, he mounted his horse, and issued the orders to attack.[185]

All was instantly on the alert. The staff went off at speed to bring up the fifth and sixth divisions. The infantry stood to arms, primed and loaded, fixed bayonets, uncased the colours, and abandoning the defensive system, hitherto so admirably employed, prepared for an immediate attack.

Pakenham[186] commenced the action by advancing in four columns along the valley, assailing the left flank of the enemy, and driving it before him in great confusion. D’Urban’s Portuguese dragoons, and Harvey’s light cavalry (the 14th), protected the flank during the movement, and, when the French became disordered, charged boldly in and sabred the broken infantry. Nothing could be more brilliant than Pakenham’s advance. A level plateau of nearly eight hundred yards was to be crossed before the assailants could reach the heights, whither Foy’s division were marching hastily to occupy the ground. A heavy fire from the French guns was showered on the advancing columns, while the British batteries, under Captain Douglass, replied by a furious cannonade. Wallace’s brigade--the 45th, 74th, and 88th--formed the first line, and moved forward in open column. The face of the height was covered with tirailleurs,[187] who kept up an incessant fusilade-- while grape and canister ploughed the ground, occasioning a heavy loss, and more particularly to the centre. They suffered, but they could not be checked;--not waiting to deploy, the companies brought forward their right shoulders in a run, forming line from open column without halting; while the wings of the brigade, having moved up the hill with less impediments than the centre, were more advanced, and the line thus assumed rather the figure of a crescent. All the mounted officers, regardless of a withering fusilade, were riding in front of the battalions, and the men following with their muskets at the rest. At last they reached the brow. Foy’s division, beating the _pas de charge_, advanced, and threw in a murderous volley. Half the British front rank went down. Staggered by that deadly fire, the brigade recoiled a step or two, but, instantly recovering, the rear rank filled the places of the fallen. On it went with imposing steadiness, regardless of the irregular fusilade, for the French continued to pour in their fire with more rapidity than effect.

Foy’s division, alarmed by this movement, became unsteady. The daring advance of an enemy, whom the concentrated fire of five thousand muskets could not arrest, was indeed astounding. All that brave men could do was done by the French officers. They strove to confirm the courage of their troops, and persuade them to withstand an assault that threatened their wavering ranks. The colonel of the 22nd _légère_, seizing a musket from a grenadier, rushed forward, and mortally wounded Major Murphy of the 88th. Speedily his death was avenged--a Ranger shot the Frenchman through the head, who tossing his arms wildly up, fell forward and expired. The brigade betrayed impatience; the 88th, excited to madness by the fall of a favourite officer, who passed dead along their front, as his charger galloped off with his rider’s foot sticking in the stirrup, could scarcely be kept back. Pakenham marked the feeling, and ordered Wallace “to let them loose.” The word was given--down came the bayonets to the charge--the pace quickened-- a wild cheer, mingled with the Irish _slogan_, rent the skies--and unable to stand the shock, the French gave ground. The Rangers, and the supporting regiments, broke the dense mass of infantry, bayoneting all whom they could overtake--until, run to a regular stand-still, they halted to recover breath and stayed the slaughter.

Nor were the operations of the fifth division less marked and brilliant. For an hour they had been exposed to a heavy cannonade, sheltering occasionally on the ground from the shot and shells, which fell in showers upon the height they occupied, and ricochetted through their ranks. At last the order to advance was given. They moved in two lines, the first entirely British, the second composed of the Portuguese infantry of General Spry. Bradford’s brigade, having united itself for the attack, formed on the right of the fifth.

In mounting the height where the French division was posted, the assailing columns were annoyed by a sharp discharge of artillery, and the fire of a swarm of sharpshooters, who in extended order occupied the face of the hill. The British light infantry pushed on to clear the line of march, and, if practicable, make a dash at the enemy’s artillery. The tirailleurs were speedily driven back, the cannon removed from the crest of the height to the rear, and unimpeded, the division moved up the hill with a perfect regularity in its formation, and the imposing steadiness of men who marched to victory. “In the front of the centre of that beautiful line rode General Leith, directing its movements, and regulating its advance.”

The enemy were preparing for the struggle. He retired his columns from the ridge, and formed continuous squares, fifty paces from the crest of the heights, which the assailants must crown previous to attacking. The artillery from the French rear cannonaded the advancing columns, but nothing could check the progressive movement of the British. “The men marched with the same orderly steadiness as at first; no advance in line at a review was ever more correctly executed; the dressing was admirable; and spaces were no sooner formed by casualties, than closed up with the most perfect regularity, and without the slightest deviation from the order of march.”[188]

When General Leith reached the summit of the hill, the enemy were observed formed in supporting squares, with their front rank kneeling. Their formation was complete--their fire reserved--and till the drum rolled, not a musket was discharged. Nearly at the same moment, the French squares and the British line delivered their volleys. A dense smoke hid all for a time from view. A loud and sustained cheer pealed from the English ranks: no shout of defiance answered it; while rushing forward, the British broke the squares, and pressing on with dauntless impetuosity, every attempt at opposition ceased, and what just now appeared a disciplined body, almost too formidable to be assailed, became a disorganized mass, flying at headlong speed from the fury of its conquerors. To increase the confusion, a portion of Foy’s division crossed the _déroute_, and mingled with it--while the rush of advancing cavalry was heard, and that sound, so ominous to broken infantry, confirmed the panic.

Presently the heavy brigade--the 3rd and 4th dragoons, and 5th dragoon guards--galloped across the interval of ground, between the heights where the third division had made its flank attack, and the fifth its more direct one. Sweeping through a mob of half-armed fugitives, the brigade rode boldly at the three battalions of the French 66th, which had formed in six supporting lines to check the advance of the conquerors, and afford time for the broken divisions to have their organization restored. Heedless of its searching fire, the British dragoons penetrated and broke the columns; numbers of the French were sabred; while the remainder were driven back upon the third division and made prisoners. Still pressing on, another regiment, in close order, presented itself; this, too, was charged, broken, and cut down. Nothing arrested Le Marchant’s victorious career until the ground became gradually obstructed with trees, embarrassing the movements of his cavalry, while it afforded a broken infantry ample time to rally, and engage horsemen at evident advantage.

Although the regiments of the heavy brigade in the course of these brilliant charges had of necessity become intermixed, and their line crowded, without intervals between the squadrons, they still pushed forward without confusion to charge a brigade that had formed under cover of the trees. The French steadily awaited the attack--within twenty yards their reserved fire was thrown in, and on a concentrated body of horse and at this short distance, its effect was fatal. General Le Marchant was killed--Colonel Elley badly wounded--while one-third of the brigade were brought to the ground by that close and murderous volley. Still, those of the heavy dragoons who could keep their saddles, sustained nobly the reputation they had earned that day, and charging the French column home, penetrated and dispersed it. A furious _mêlée_ succeeded--the scattered infantry fighting desperately to the last--while the long straight sword of the trooper proved in English hands irresistible.[189]

While the remnant of the cavalry brigade continued their pursuit, a small battery of five guns was seen upon the left. Lord Edward Somerset instantly galloped down, charged, and brought them off. The brigade was then retired, after a continued succession of brilliant charges that had lasted nearly an hour.

Of course the loss sustained was great. From three splendid regiments that had ridden into action, at least one thousand strong, with difficulty three squadrons were formed in the evening--such being the number of men and horses rendered _hors de combat_, during its late scene of brilliant but dear-bought success.

With such decided advantages, the battle might have been considered gained, and the French defeat inevitable. But the splendid successes attendant on the third and fifth divisions, with Bradford’s Portuguese brigade, and the light and heavy cavalry, were nearly counterbalanced by the total failure of Pack’s attack on the Arapiles, and the repulse of Cole’s division by that of Bonnet.

The 1st and 16th Portuguese advanced to carry the height; it was occupied by a French battalion, and protected by a battery of guns. A force of nearly two thousand men, led on in person by a “fighting general,” should have wrested the hill from such inferior force, no matter how strong the ground might naturally have been. On this occasion, however, the attack proved totally unsuccessful--the Portuguese regiments recoiled from the fire--and their officers endeavoured to rally them in vain. The attack on the Arapiles was consequently abandoned, the French left in undisturbed possession, and, unassailed themselves, they turned their musketry and cannon upon the flank and rear of Cole’s division, who, under the impression that Pack’s assault must have succeeded, had fearlessly advanced across the plain, driving Bonnet’s corps before it, with the promise of as glorious results as had attended the gallant operations of the third and fifth.

At that moment, even when the fourth division believed itself victorious, its position was most dangerous--its very existence more than doubtful. Bonnet perceiving Pack’s failure, reformed his division, still numerically superior to his opponent’s, advanced boldly against the fourth, and furiously attacked it--while from the crest of the Arapiles, the French troops poured upon the now retreating columns a withering fire of grape and musketry. General Cole was carried off the field; Beresford, who had come to his relief, with a Portuguese brigade of the fifth, was also badly wounded. The British were falling fast; while the French heavy cavalry, under Boyer, moved rapidly to support Bonnet, who was momentarily gathering strength from the junction of the scattered soldiers who had escaped the slaughter of the fourth and seventh French divisions, already _dérouted_ on the left.

Wellington marked the emergency, and ordered Clinton’s division to advance. This fine and unbroken corps, numbering six thousand bayonets, pushed rapidly forward, confronted the victorious enemy, who, with loud cheers, were gaining ground on every point, as the hard-pressed fourth division was driven back by overwhelming numbers. Bonnet, determined to follow up his temporary success, met Clinton’s division manfully, and for a time neither would give ground, and a close and furious conflict resulted. The ceaseless roll of musketry, and the thunder of fifty guns, told how furiously the battle-ground was disputed. Both fought desperately,--and though night was closing, the withered grass, blazing on the surface of the hill, threw an unearthly glare upon the combatants, and displayed the alternations that attended the “heady fight.” But the British bayonet, at last, opened the path to victory. Such a desperate encounter could not endure--the French began to waver,--the sixth division cheered, pushed forward, gained ground,-- while, no longer able to withstand an enemy who seemed determined to sweep every thing before it, the French retired in confusion, leaving the hard-contested field in undisputed possession of the island conquerors.

Darkness fell. The remains of Bonnet’s division found shelter in the woods, or crossed the Tormes at the ford of Alba, which, from its natural strength, the Spaniards could have easily defended. The conflict, at different points, had raged six hours with unabated fury; and those of the divisions which had been engaged, exhausted with fatigue and suffering dreadfully from heat and thirst, rested on the battle-ground.

The guards, Germans, and light brigade, who had been in reserve during the day, however, pushed forward in pursuit. Distant musketry was heard occasionally--gradually this spattering fire ceased--and the groans of dying men and wounded horses succeeded the headlong rush of cavalry, the thunder of a hundred guns, the shout of proud defiance, and, wilder still, the maddening cry of victory!

SALAMANCA.

Results of the battle.--Operations.--Surprise at Majalahonda.--
Capture of the Retiro.--Occupation of Madrid.

Salamanca, whether considered with regard to its merits as a battle, or its results as a victory, probably stands foremost among the Peninsular contests--and many and peculiar traits distinguish it from every previous encounter. It was coolly and advisedly fought, by commanders confident in themselves, satisfied with the strength and _matériel_ of their armies, jealous of each other’s reputation, and stimulated, by every longing after military glory, to exhaust the resources of their genius and experience to secure a successful issue. Nothing could surpass Marmont’s beautiful manœuvring for consecutive days while moving round the British flank, except the countervailing rapidity with which his talented opponent defeated every effort to outflank him, and held the marshal constantly in check. At two on the 22nd, the French marshal threatened an attack; at four, he was himself the assailed-- and the same mistake that lost Marengo, involved ruin and defeat at Salamanca. One false movement, that might have been easily corrected before a slower leader could see and seize the momentary advantage, brought on a crisis that clouded the French destinies in Spain, by removing the delusory belief that their arms should eventually prove invincible.

A conflict, close and desperate like that of Salamanca, conferred a sanguinary victory, while it involved a still bloodier defeat. The allied loss, in killed and wounded, exceeded five thousand men, and this, of course, fell chiefly on the British. The Portuguese, comparatively, suffered little--and the Spaniards, being entirely non-combatant, had very few casualties to record.[190] The only post intrusted--and that most unhappily--to their charge, was the castle of Alba; and this was abandoned without a shot, leaving Clausel a safe retreat, while its vigorous occupation must have involved his total ruin.

The French loss was never correctly ascertained. Two eagles, eleven pieces of cannon, seven thousand prisoners, and as many dead soldiers left upon the field, were the admitted trophies of British victory. Among the commanding officers of both armies, the casualties were immense: of the British, Le Marchant was killed; Beresford, Cole, Leith, Cotton, and Alten wounded. The French were equally unfortunate-- the generals of brigade, Thomières, Ferrey, and Desgraviers were killed; Marmont, early in the day, mutilated by a howitzer shell;[191] Bonnet severely, and Clausel slightly wounded.

The light division, when morning dawned, continued its advance, crossing the Tormes at Huerta; while the heavy Germans, under Bock, overtook the French rear-guard in position on the heights of La Serna, protected by some squadrons of hussars. These were dispersed by a charge of the 11th and 16th--while the heavy brigade rode directly at the squares, and broke them by a furious onset. Numbers were cut down-- others saved themselves by throwing away their arms, hiding in the woods, and afterwards joining the retreating columns. In this spirited affair nearly one thousand prisoners fell into the hands of the victors.

As a cavalry exploit, that of La Serna has rarely been equalled, and never, in its brilliant results, surpassed. Bock’s casualties were comparatively trifling, amounting in killed and wounded only to some seventy or eighty men.

Clausel, who commanded _en chef_ after Marmont was disabled, retreated with great rapidity. Viewed from the summit of La Serna, the French exhibited a countless mass of all arms, confusedly intermingled. While the range permitted it, the horse-artillery annoyed them with round-shot--but, by rapid marching, they gradually disappeared-- while, opportunely, a strong corps of cavalry and a brigade of guns joined from the army of the North, and covered the retreat until they fell back upon their reserves.

Although Salamanca was in every respect a decisive battle, how much more fatal must it not have proved, had darkness not shut in, and robbed the conquerors of half the fruits of victory? The total demolition of the French left was effected by six o’clock, and why should the right attack have not been equally successful? Had such been the case, in what a hopeless situation the broken army must have found itself! The Tormes behind, a reserve of three entire divisions, who during the contest had scarcely drawn a trigger, ready to assail in front--nothing could have averted total ruin; and to the French, Salamanca would have proved the bloodiest field on record. One great error stripped victory of its results. Either the small force by which the Arapiles was defended had been undervalued, or incompetent means employed by Lord Wellington to carry it. Unfortunately a Portuguese brigade had been intrusted with that service. They were admirably led on--conquest was on the wing around them--everywhere the advance of the British was triumphant--their numerical force was five times greater than that of the defenders of the height--but the attack was feebly made, and, on the show of a determined resistance, as quickly abandoned. This unexpected reverse induced Bonnet’s corps to rally-- and by it, the fourth division was suddenly and unexpectedly assailed. A plunging fire from the Arapiles fell upon their flank and rear--the tide of battle turned--the fourth gave ground--and, as yet untamed by British steel, the enemy cheered loudly and rushed on--and had not Clinton’s division been promptly carried into action, it is hard to conjecture what serious results might not have arisen from this singular repulse. Finally, the battle was restored and won--but an immense waste of blood and time supervened--and while the protracted struggle entailed on the victors a desperate loss, it secured the vanquished from total ruin. Favoured by the darkness, Marmont’s routed columns removed themselves from the field, while guns and trophies[192] were secured by the retiring army, that, with one hour’s light, must have fallen into the hands of the conquerors.[193]

Still, and with all these mischances, Salamanca was a great and influential victory. Accidental circumstances permitted Clausel to withdraw a beaten army from the field, and a fortunate junction of those arms, which alone could cover his retreat, enabled him, with little loss, to outmarch his pursuers, preserve his communications, and fall back upon his reserves. But at Salamanca the delusory notion of French superiority was destroyed. The enemy discovered that they must measure strength with opponents in every point their equals. The confidence of wavering allies was confirmed; while the evacuation of Madrid, the abandonment of the siege of Cadiz, the deliverance of Andalusia and Castile from military occupation, and the impossibility of reinforcing Napoleon during his northern campaign, by sparing any troops from the corps in the Peninsula[194]--all these great results were among the important consequences that arose from Marmont’s defeat upon the Tormes.