Chapter XI: Appendix: , No. I.--Storming of San Sebastian 493 (10)

The joy evinced by the inhabitants of Salamanca at the total discomfiture of their French oppressors, was only equalled by the despair with which the regressive movement of Lord Wellington from the line of the Agueda had previously been witnessed. From all the high grounds about the city, the changes of the fight had been watched with painful anxiety; and when the struggle ended and the day was won, mules and cars loaded with refreshments were despatched from Salamanca to the field of battle, where they arrived before break of day. Hospitals were prepared for the reception of the wounded, and every exertion employed to assuage the sufferings of their gallant allies. High mass was celebrated in the cathedral, and a wild display of popular exultation was everywhere visible in the streets. All had assumed the appearance of a carnival; and the guitar and castanet were heard at midnight in the same square that, a short period before, had started at “the beat to arms.”

Lord Wellington, who had been present while mass was celebrated for his victory,[195] without delay commenced his march southward, and moved as rapidly as he could, in the vain hope of overtaking the enemy’s rear-guard. Clausel, intending to join the army of the North, fell back on Arivalo; but Joseph Buonaparte, on learning Marmont’s defeat, had retreated himself--and thus Clausel was obliged to change his line for that of the Camino Real, in order to cross the Duero at Tudela. There, too, he failed in effecting his expected junction with the troops that had garrisoned Madrid; and, abandoning his hospitals at Valladolid, he fell back at once on Burgos.

The British advance was unopposed. Everywhere the conquerors were received with _vivas_; while fruit, wine, and all the refreshments they could command, were liberally supplied them by the Spanish peasantry. At Valladolid, all hope of coming up with Clausel ended; and Lord Wellington halted on the 30th of July, to enable the rear to close up. Then turning at once, he quitted his previous route, and took the road to the capital.

Nothing impeded the victor’s march as he moved direct on Madrid. On the 6th of August, Wellington halted at Cuellar, leaving Clinton’s division there, with the regiments that had suffered on the 21st most severely, to observe any movement that Marmont’s corps might make. Next morning he moved upon the capital, while Hill’s division marched on Zafra.

Nothing checked Lord Wellington’s movement on Madrid. On the 7th of August, he reached Segovia; and on the 9th, San Ildefonso,[196] the magnificent summer residence of the Spanish monarchs. There he halted to allow his right to come up; and among the exquisite groves and gardens that had formed a favourite retreat to a kingly race for centuries, the conquerors of Salamanca rested. On the 11th the march was resumed; and as the passes of the Guadarama were undefended, the allies entered New Castile without any opposition, and halted within a march of Madrid.

After a careful _reconnaissance_ in company with his lieutenant, Marshal Jourdan, Joseph Buonaparte declared that the capital was untenable, and retreated on Aranguez, after leaving a garrison in the Retiro.[197]

On the evening of the 11th, the army of Lord Wellington was comfortably bivouacked three miles in the rear of Majalahonda. The Portuguese cavalry, under D’Urban, forming the advanced guard, were pushed forward a mile beyond the village, in which two regiments of German dragoons, and Macdonald’s brigade of horse artillery, were posted to support them. Some trifling skirmishing had taken place during the day, between the Portuguese cavalry and the French lancers, who formed part of Joseph’s Buonaparte’s escort, but it led to no serious result. No hostile movement was apprehended--all foretold a quiet night-- when suddenly the horse-artillery opened in front of the village, and announced that the outposts were attacked. In a few minutes it was ascertained that the Portuguese dragoons had given way--and indeed, their flight was most disgraceful; they rode off at speed, without crossing a sabre, leaving their brave supporters, the horse-artillery, surrounded by the enemy. Nor was theirs a momentary panic--the fugitives dashed through the village of Majalahonda, without an attempt to rally--while many of the startled horsemen there were cut down before they could reach their saddles, and their colonel was killed in the act of dressing.[198] But still, though surprised, the Germans maintained their well-won reputation; these gallant troopers charged as they best could; and in small bodies, sword in hand, met, checked, and at last fairly drove back the lancers. The cowardice of the Portuguese on this occasion was indefensible--they had scarcely a casualty to shew--while, of the brave men who fought so gallantly, half-armed and surprised, two hundred were put _hors de combat_, one hundred and twenty horses carried off, and three guns taken. The cannon were recovered--but, to use the words of an amusing writer, whose military descriptions are lively and characteristic[199]--“it was one of the most disgraceful and unlooked-for events that had taken place during the campaign. To be beaten at any time was bad enough; but to be beaten by a handful of lancers on the eve of our entering Madrid, almost in view of the city, was worse than all.”

Next day, Wellington entered the capital, amidst the enthusiastic acclamations of such of the inhabitants as remained. The Retiro was immediately invested--and after a show of resistance, surrendered on the morning of the 14th.[200] Besides two thousand prisoners, one hundred and ninety pieces of cannon, nine hundred barrels of powder, twenty thousand stand of arms, two millions of musket cartridges, and the eagles of the 13th and 51st regiments, fell into the hands of the victors. A large supply of cables and cordage was fortunately discovered in the Casa del Campo; and with these materials the broken arch of the bridge at Alcantara was repaired by the Royal Staff corps.

The occupation of Madrid carried out the effects produced by the victory of Salamanca. French domination received a death-blow--and the power of Napoleon a shock from which it never afterwards recovered.

CAPTURE OF MADRID.

Reasons for abandoning Madrid.--Clausel driven back.--Siege of
Burgos commenced.--Horn-work of San Michael stormed.--Second
assault fails.--Continuation of the siege.--First line carried by
assault.--French sally successful.--Fourth assault fails.--Siege
raised.

The occupation of Madrid was among the most brilliant epochs of Peninsular history, and, from circumstances, it was also among the briefest. The conquest of the capital was certainly a splendid exploit. It told that Wellington held a position and possessed a power that in England many doubted and more denied; and those, whose evil auguries had predicted a retreat upon the shipping, and finally an abandonment of the country, were astounded to find the allied leader victorious in the centre of Seville, and dating his general orders from the palace of the Spanish kings. The desertion of his capital by the usurper, proclaimed the extent of Wellington’s success; and proved that his victories were not, as had been falsely asserted at home, “conquests only in name.”

Without entering into military history too extensively, it will be necessary to observe, that on many expected events which should have strengthened his means, and weakened those of his opponents, Lord Wellington was miserably disappointed. Maitland’s diversion on Catalonia had proved a failure. Ballasteros exhibited the impotent assumption of free action, and refused obedience to the orders of the British general--and Hill was therefore obliged to leave Estremadura, to cover the three roads to Madrid. The Cortes, instead of straining their energies to meet the exigencies of the moment, wasted time in framing new constitutions, and in desultory and idle debates,--while Wellington, removed from his supplies--his military chest totally exhausted,[201] and his communications menaced, was imperatively obliged to open others, and secure assistance from the only place on which reliance could be reposed--the mother country.

It was, indeed, full time to move. The Spanish army were driven from Gallicia, and Clausel threatened to interrupt the communications of the allies with Portugal. Lord Wellington, therefore, decided on marching against the army he had beaten at Salamanca; and leaving Hill’s division to cover the capital, he left Madrid on the 1st of September, and crossing the Douro on the 6th, moved on Burgos by Valencia.

That night Clausel abandoned Valladolid, and after crossing the Pisuerga, destroyed the bridge of Berecal. Anxious to unite with Castanos, Wellington waited for the Gallician army to come up--while Clausel leisurely retreated through the valleys of Arlanzan and Pisuerga, as remarkable for beauty and fertility, as for the endless succession of strong posts which they afforded to a retiring army.

Clausel, after an able retreat, took a position at Cellada del Camino-- and to cover Burgos, offered battle to the allied commander. The challenge was promptly accepted; but the French general, discovering that a junction of twelve thousand Spaniards had strongly reinforced his antagonist, prudently declined a combat, retired, and united his own to Souham’s corps, which numbered above eight thousand men. This reserve had been organized by Napoleon’s special orders--and was intended to remedy any discomfiture which might befall Marmont in the event of his being defeated by the allies.

The British entered the city of Burgos, from which the French had previously retired, after garrisoning the castle with two thousand five hundred men, under the command of General Dubreton. Twelve thousand allied troops, comprising the first and sixth British divisions, with two Portuguese brigades, sat down before the place; while the remainder of Lord Wellington’s army, amounting to twenty-five thousand effective troops, formed the covering army of the siege.

The castle of Burgos was a weak fortress, on which French ingenuity had done wonders in rendering it defensible at all. It stood on a bold and rocky height, and was surrounded by three distinct lines, each placed within the other, and variously defended. The lower and exterior line consisted of the ancient wall that embraced the bottom of the hill, and which Caffarelli had strengthened by the addition of a modern parapet, with salient[202] and re-entering flanks. The second was a field retrenchment, strongly palisaded. The third, a work of like construction, having two elevated points, on one of which the ancient keep of the castle stood, and on the other, a well-intrenched building called the White Church; and that being the most commanding point, it was provided with a casemated work, and named in honour of Napoleon. This battery domineered all around, excepting on its northern face, where the hill of St. Michael rising nearly to a level with the fortress, was defended by an extensive hornwork,[203] having a sloping scarp and counterscarp, the former twenty-five feet in height, the latter, ten. Although in an unfinished state, and merely palisaded, it was under the fire of the castle and the Napoleon battery. The guns, already mounted, comprised nine heavy cannon, eleven field-pieces, and six mortars and howitzers; and, as the reserve artillery and stores of the army of Portugal were deposited in the castle of Burgos, General Dubreton had the power of increasing his armament to any extent he thought fit.

Two days passed before the allies could cross the river. On the 19th the passage was effected, and the French outposts on St. Michael were driven in. That night, the hornwork itself was carried after a sanguinary assault--the British losing in this short and murderous affair upwards of four hundred men.

From the hill--now in possession of the allies--it was decided that the future operations should be carried on, and the engineers arranged that each line in succession should be taken by assault. The place, on a close examination, was ascertained to be in no respect formidable; but the means to effect its reduction, by comparison, were feebler still. Nothing, indeed, could be less efficient--three long 18-pounders, and five 24-pound howitzers, formed the entire siege artillery that Lord Wellington could obtain.

The head-quarters were fixed at Villa Toro. The engineering department intrusted to Colonel Burgoyne, and the charge of the artillery to colonels Robe and Dickson.

The second assault, that upon the exterior wall, was made on the night of the 22nd by escalade. Major Laurie of the 79th, with detachments from the different regiments before the place, formed the storming party. The Portuguese, who led the attack, were quickly repulsed--and though the British entered the ditch, they never could mount a ladder. Those who attempted it were bayoneted from above--while shells, combustibles, and cold shot were hurled on the assailants, who, after a most determined effort for a quarter of an hour, were driven from the ditch, leaving their leader, and half the number who composed the storming party, killed and wounded.[204]

After this disastrous failure, an unsuccessful attempt to breach the wall was tried--in effecting which, of the few guns in battery, two were totally disabled by the commanding fire of the castle--and the engineers resorted, from sheer necessity, to sap and mine. The former, from the plunging fire kept up from the enemy’s defences, and which occasioned a fearful loss, was speedily abandoned; but the latter was carried vigorously on--and the outward wall mined, charged,[205] and on the 29th, exploded.

At twelve o’clock at night the hose was fired--the storming party having previously formed in a hollow way some fifty paces from the gallery. When the mine was sprung, a portion of the wall came down, and a sergeant and four privates, who formed the forlorn hope, rushed through the smoke, mounted the ruins, and bravely crowned the breach. But in the darkness, which was intense, the storming party and their supporting companies, missed their way--and the French recovering from their surprise, rushed to the breach, and drove the few brave men who held it back to the trenches. The attack, consequently, failed, and from a scarcity of shot no fire could be turned on the ruins. Dubreton availed himself of this accidental advantage--and by daylight, the breach was rendered impracticable again.

Still determined to gain the place, Lord Wellington continued operations, although twelve days had elapsed since he had sat down before it. A singular despondency, particularly among the Portuguese, had arisen from those two failures; while insubordination was creeping into the British regiments, which produced a relaxed discipline that could not be overlooked, and which, in general orders, was consequently strongly censured.

The siege continued; and, on the 4th of October, a battery opened from Saint Michael’s against the old breach, while the engineers announced that a powerful mine was prepared for springing. At five o’clock that evening, the fusee was fired. The effect was grand and destructive-- one hundred feet of the wall was entirely demolished, and a number of the French, who happened to be near it, were annihilated by the explosion. The 24th regiment, already in readiness to storm, instantly rushed forward, and both breaches were carried, but, unfortunately, with heavy loss.

A lodgment was immediately effected--and preparations made for breaching the second line of defence where it joined the first.

On the 5th, early in the evening, the French sallied with three hundred men. The attack was too successful--one hundred and fifty of the guard and working party were killed or wounded--the gabions overturned--the works at the lodgment injured--and the intrenching tools carried off.

That night, however, the damage was repaired--the sap was rapidly carried forward--and at last, the British had got so close to the wall, that their own howitzers ceased firing, lest the workmen should be endangered by their shot. The guns on Saint Michael’s battery had also breached with good effect, and fifty feet of the parapet of the second line was completely laid in ruins. But, in effecting these successes, a heavy loss was inflicted on the besiegers--and of their originally small means for carrying on a siege, the few pieces of artillery they possessed at first, were now reduced to one serviceable gun.

The weather had also changed, and rain fell in quantities and filled the trenches. A spirit of discontent and indifference pervaded the army. The labour was unwillingly performed--the guards loosely kept-- and Dubreton again sallied furiously, drove off the working party, destroyed the new parallel, carried away the tools, and occasioned a loss of more than two hundred men. Among the killed, none was lamented more than Colonel Cocks, who having obtained promotion most deservedly for previous gallantry, died at the head of his men, while rallying the fugitives and repelling the sally.

Three assaults had failed--but still the allied commander did not quit the place in despair. Preparations for another attempt were continued--and the exertions of the engineers, of whom one-half had fallen, were redoubled. Heated shot was tried against the White Church unsuccessfully; while that of San Roman was marked as the more vulnerable point, and a gallery commenced against it.

On the 17th, the great breach was again exposed by the fire of the British guns, and the ramparts on either side extensively damaged. A mine beneath the lower parallel was successfully exploded, and a lodgment effected in a cavalier,[206] from whence the French had kept up a destructive fire on the trenches. It was held but for a short time, as the enemy came down in force, and drove the besiegers from it. On the 18th, the breach was reported practicable, and an assault decided on--the signal arranged being the springing of the mine beneath the church of San Roman. That building was also to be assailed, while the old breach was to be attempted by escalade--and thus, and at the same moment, three distinct attacks would occupy the enemy’s attention.

At half-past four the explosion of the mine gave the signal. A countermine was immediately sprung by the French, and between both, the church was partially destroyed, and Colonel Browne, with some Portuguese and Spanish troops, seized upon the ruined building. The Guards, who had volunteered a detachment, rushed through the old breach, escaladed the second line, and, in front of the third, encountered the French in considerable force--while two hundred of the German Legion, under Major Wurmb, carried the new breach, pushing up the hill, and fairly gaining the third line of the defences. Unfortunately, however, these daring and successful efforts were not supported with the promptness that was needed. The French reserves were instantly advanced--they came on in overwhelming force--cleared the breaches of the assailants--and drove them beyond the outer line, with the loss of two hundred officers and men.

San Roman was taken the following night by the French, and recovered again by the British. But with this affair the siege virtually terminated--and Lord Wellington, by an imperious necessity, was obliged to retire from a place of scarcely third-rate character, after four attacks by assault, and a loss of two thousand men.

In war, the bravest and the most prudent measures are frequently marred or made by fortune. Lord Wellington, with very insufficient means, attempted the reduction of Burgos; and although skill and gallantry were displayed in every essay, obstacles arose which checked the most daring efforts; and all that science and determination could effect, were vainly tried to overcome difficulties physically insurmountable. Had Wellington possessed the requisite _matériel_ for the conduct of a siege, Burgos must have been taken in a week.[207]

But let justice be done to its defenders. Much was expected from them-- and assuredly, the governor and garrison of the castle of Burgos realized the high reliance placed upon their skill and heroism by their countrymen.

On the 18th, the British corps united. On the 20th some trifling affairs occurred between the outposts--and on the 21st the siege of Burgos was regularly raised, and Lord Wellington issued orders for retiring from before the place.

RETREAT FROM BURGOS.

Retreat commences.--Affair at Harmoza.--The Carrion passed.--
Excesses at Torquemada.--Affairs of the Pisuerga and Villa
Muriel.--Retreat.--Affair at Huebra.--A British division
endangered.--Irregularities of the army produce a strong official
rebuke.--Lord Wellington’s honours increased.--Army goes into
cantonments for the winter.

A retreat was unavoidable; and, to be successful, it must be rapid. Two roads were open; and by either Lord Wellington might fall back. The longer of the two was by the bridge of Villaton--and by taking it the allies would be safe from present interruption. The other crossed the river of Arlanzan at Burgos--and by following that the retreat would be shortened by a day’s march--but to gain that road, the army must defile directly beneath the guns of the castle.

By this latter route, however, Wellington determined to retire--and the strictest secrecy was observed, while all was prepared for a night-march. When darkness had shrouded the besiegers and the besieged, the position was quietly abandoned; the infantry defiled across the bridge in perfect silence--while the wheels of the gun-carriages were muffled with straw, to prevent their being overheard by the French sentinels, and thus provoke a fire from the place.[208]

There is no doubt that this dangerous passage would have been accomplished without discovery, had not some guerilla horsemen rashly galloped over, and betrayed to the garrison the movement of the allies then in progress. In anticipation of the attempt, the guns of the works having been already trained upon the bridge, the first discharge from the French artillery was destructive; but the range was lost after a round or two, and in the darkness it could not be recovered. By this bold and well-planned manœuvre, Lord Wellington extricated his entire baggage and field equipage; and the allies were placed on the other side of the Arlanzan, and in the direct line of their retreat, with a loss comparatively trifling.

That night, the infantry reached Hormillas and Cellada del Camino, and the cavalry, Estepar and Villa Baniel--while Souham remained in perfect ignorance of Wellington’s retreat, until late on the evening of the 22nd.

On the 23rd, the infantry, after a long march, crossed the Pisuerga at Cordovillas and Torquemada; but the rear-guard were overtaken and attacked. Although greatly overmatched, the British cavalry made a bold stand, and for a time disputed the passage of the Harmoza. But they were obliged to retire as fresh squadrons of the enemy moved rapidly forward.

Part of the English dragoons crossed by a marshy rivulet, leaving Anson’s cavalry and the German light infantry as a rear-guard. The French came on with great impetuosity, and were charged and checked by the 11th light dragoons and horse artillery; but their numbers prevailed--the English were forced back--the guerilla horse completely routed--and some prisoners made. After much severe and desultory fighting, in which the fierceness of the pursuers was fully equalled by the obstinate resistance of the retreating horsemen, the British cavalry were driven back upon the Germans, under Halket. Fortunately the latter had gained a position--and assisted by the fire of the artillery, their fusilade fell on the left flank of the French with such murderous effect, that, failing in three determined charges, they were at last forced to fall back behind the heights, allowing the British rear-guard, without further molestation, to retire.

Wellington having crossed the Carrion on the 24th, was joined by a brigade of the Guards. The weather was bad, the means of transport wretched, the sick and wounded were beyond the Duero, and thus circumstanced, the allied commander determined to make a stand. The allies, therefore, occupied a range of heights, with the Carrion in their front, and their right wing resting on the Pisuerga.

Torquemada had witnessed a most disgraceful scene of riot and confusion on the part of the British. There, immense wine-stores were found and plundered--and it was computed that at one time, twelve thousand men were lying in the streets and houses in a state of helpless intoxication. Nor was the boasted sobriety of the French proof against the temptation these well-stored cellars presented. On their subsequent occupation of the town, Souham was obliged to stay his march for twelve hours,--for his own corps numbered more drunkards even than that of Lord Wellington had done.

The 25th was given as a halt-day to the troops--while necessary preparations were made for continuing the retreat, and interrupting the passage of the Carrion. All the bridges were ordered to be blown up--but the mines were in some cases so defective, that they failed entirely, and allowed the French an easy passage, while others of their troops crossed by the fords.[209] The working and covering parties at Banos and Palentia were made prisoners, and a quantity of baggage picked up by the enemy’s light cavalry. At Pisuerga, the corps that Souham pushed forward was attacked and driven back; and at Villa Muriel, after a sharp contest, the enemy were obliged to retire, and abandon the bank of the river that they had succeeded in occupying for a time.

On the 26th, having repaired the bridges, Souham crossed the Carrion in pursuit of the allies. On the 27th he was in force in front of Cabezon, and showed himself in such strength as determined Lord Wellington at once to fall back behind the Duero, and still further behind the Tormes, in the event of his being more closely pressed by the enemy. On the 28th, the French general extended his right to outflank the allies, and advanced against the troops who held the passes over the Pisguera and the Duero. Unable to maintain the bridges, they were effectually destroyed; and a town and wood, behind that of Tordesillas, were occupied by the regiment of Brunswick Oels, until the Germans were driven from both by the French, who effected the passage of the Duero with uncommon gallantry.

On the 29th, Wellington, after destroying the bridges at Valladolid and Cabezon, passed the river by those of Tudela and Ponte Duero. The passage of the French at Tordesillas obliged him instantly to move to his left, and take a position near Rueda--and there he remained, until joined by Sir Rowland Hill upon the 5th of November--who, after leaving a corps in Alba de Tormes, had fallen back before Joseph Buonaparte and Marshal Soult, with scarcely any loss. Wellington, having effected this object, and united himself with his detached corps, retired on the 7th to Torricilla,--and on the 8th halted in front of Salamanca.

Meanwhile, the armies of the north, south, and centre, had formed a junction on the right bank of the Tormes--and on the 10th, they attacked the town and castle of Alba, but without success. Passing the Tormes, at Lucinas, on the 14th, Soult, who commanded in chief, took a position on the wooded heights of Mozarbes. That evening the hostile armies were in each other’s presence; a distant cannonade and some trifling skirmishing took place; and, on the 15th, Lord Wellington formed beside the Arapiles and offered battle, which was declined. The enemy extended to the right, threatening to interrupt the communications with Rodrigo--and from the immense disparity of his force,[210] Wellington was obliged to move promptly by his right, and seize the roads leading into Portugal.

The weather was desperate--rain fell in torrents--the roads were rendered almost impassable--the men were knee-deep in the sloughs-- and the transport of the guns and baggage had become a work of infinite difficulty. The imposing steadiness with which the British rear-guard retired before the French advance, checked any attempt that Soult might have entertained of pressing the retreat so closely as to bring Lord Wellington to action, and especially on ground that he himself would not select, on which to make a stand. Ciudad Rodrigo was gained on the 18th, and the frontier crossed upon the 20th. The 17th had passed in continued demonstrations of attack, and frequent skirmishes. Not daring to assail the columns, every advantage that a wooded country would permit, was seized upon to cut off stragglers and secure baggage. In many attempts on both, the enemy were successful; and a British general of division, Sir Edward Paget, was carried off while literally in the centre of his own brigades.

The main body of the allies had already crossed the Huebra, when the French infantry and artillery came up in force, and obliged the cavalry to cross the fords--and a delay in retiring the light division from the position they had been placed in on the edge of the forest, brought on a sharp affair. The British, however, effected the passage of the river with inconsiderable loss--and every effort the French made to carry the fords failed owing to the steadiness with which they were defended. The firing was kept up till dark--and although the light and seventh divisions were exposed in column to a plunging fire from thirty guns, their loss was miraculously small, as “this clayey soil, saturated with rain, swallowed the shot and smothered the shells.”[211]

On the 18th, the retreat was continued--Lord Wellington having given the necessary directions as to the line of march which the different divisions of his army should pursue--his orders were disobeyed--and serious results had nearly been occasioned. Happily, his lordship discovered the irregularity of his subordinate officers in time to avert disastrous consequences. The retreating brigades were completely arrested by a flooded river--and with great difficulty were extricated, from what would have been, very shortly, a desperate and hopeless position. Indeed, so critically were they situated, that the light division, composing the rear-guard, were obliged to cross a gulley by single files, effecting the passage by means of a fallen tree.[212]

Here the retreat virtually closed. The weather improved; and having fallen back upon his resources, Lord Wellington was enabled to recruit his exhausted soldiery. Abundant fuel, dry bivouacs, and plentiful rations, produced a speedy change; and men wearied and worn down by privations and incessant fatigue, rapidly recovered their health and spirits. The moment the enemy had abandoned the pursuit, the light cavalry and guerilla horse were despatched to scour the woods, and rescue such sufferers as survived. Their efforts were attended with success--and more than fifteen hundred wounded or disabled men were brought into the hospitals and saved.

The total casualties sustained by the troops during the siege and subsequent retreat of Burgos, were very numerous--and in no point are military writers and official returns more at variance, than in the respective estimates they form of the losses of the allies. Where such immense discrepancy exists, it is hard to come to any thing like an accurate conclusion. The French asserted that the allies lost twelve thousand men, _hors de combat_; the English reduced it to little more than twelve hundred. Between these extremes, the mean is more likely to prove correct; and there can be little doubt, all casualties included, that in the siege and subsequent operations to the 29th of October, seven thousand men were sacrificed.[213]

The retreat from Burgos was not only remarkable for the sufferings they endured, but also for the insubordination exhibited by the soldiery. The mass of the army became drunkards and marauders. The wine-stores in the towns and villages on the line of march were broken into and despoiled of their contents; and multitudes, through inebriety, either perished or were made prisoners. In Valderoso alone, two hundred and fifty men were left drunk in the cellars--and, of course, they fell into the hands of the French. Drunkenness produced cruelty--and many of the peasantry hitherto well affected to the allies,[214] perished by the hands of infuriated savages, who seemed reckless whether friend or foe became the victim of their ferocity. Napier says, that on the first day’s march from Madrid, he reckoned seventeen murdered peasants, either lying on the road or thrown into the ditches.

Another mischievous breach of discipline had become very general. Numerous herds of swine were found among the woods--and the soldiers broke from their columns, and commenced shooting pigs wherever they could be found. The spattering fire kept up in the forest by these marauders, frequently occasioned an unnecessary alarm, and thus disturbed the brief space allowed for rest to the exhausted soldiers. Nothing but the greatest severity checked this most dangerous offence-- and though some of the delinquents, when taken “red-handed” and in the very fact, were hanged in the sight of their guilty comrades, the evil was but partially abated by the example; for hunger had made the starving soldiery indifferent to the desperate consequences their offending was certain to draw down.

The excesses committed during the retreat, drew from Lord Wellington an official letter, addressed to the commanding officers of regiments, that occasioned at the time considerable dissatisfaction.[215] Probably, the terms in which his censure was conveyed, were stronger than they should have been. The sufferings of the troops were great beyond belief--men marching night and day, under an incessant deluge, knee-deep in mire, without shelter or a place to rest upon, their whole sustenance a scanty ration of over-driven beef, frequently devoured half-raw--all these should have been well considered--and while the soldiery could not be justified in acts of violence and rapine, still they might urge much in extenuation of crimes committed under the influence of want, misery and despair![216]

Honours, in the mean time, were conferred upon the able, but unsuccessful besieger of Burgos. At home, Lord Wellington was advanced to a Marquisate in the peerage, while Parliament added 100,000_l._ to assist him to support this dignity. He was also appointed to the Colonelcy of the Blues--while the rank of Duke of Vitoria was conferred upon him by the Prince Regent of Portugal, with emoluments attached to it valued at 15,000 dollars annually. The honour bestowed upon him the Marquis of Wellington accepted--but the income, with becoming dignity, he respectfully declined.

After the French retired behind the Tormes, the allies took up their winter cantonments. Hill passed the Sierra de Gata, and established his corps in the province of Coria, with posts at the passes of Bejar and Banos. The remaining divisions were comfortably disposed of--part of the brigades occupying quarters in the district of Beira, while the others were cantoned upon the banks of the Douro.

ADVANCE FROM THE DOURO TO THE ZADORRA.

British army organized anew.--Reinforced from England.--Relative
strength and positions of the rival armies.--Joseph retires.--
General appearance of the French corps d’armée.--Wellington
suddenly advances.--His bold and successful operations.--
Beautiful scenery.--Affairs of Saint Millan, Osma, and the
Bayas.--Joseph enters Vitoria.

Winter passed away--the army recovered from its hardships--and Lord Wellington was indefatigable in perfecting the equipment of every department, to enable him to take the field efficiently when the season should come round, and active operations could be again renewed. In its minuter details, the interior economy of the regiments underwent a useful reformation. The large and cumbrous camp-kettles hitherto in use, were discarded, and small ones substituted in their place; while three tents were served to each company, affording, particularly to the sick and disabled, a means of shelter in the field which hitherto had been wanting.

Nothing could surpass the splendid state of discipline that this period of inactivity had produced, while the allied army was reposing in winter quarters. Its _matériel_ was now truly magnificent; powerful reinforcements having arrived from England. The Life and Horse Guards had joined the cavalry; and that arm, hitherto the weakest, was increased to nineteen efficient regiments. The infantry had been recruited from the militias at home--the artillery was complete in every requisite for the field--while a well-arranged commissariate, with ample means of transport, facilitated the operations of the most serviceable force which had ever taken the field under the leading of an English general.

Previous to the opening of the campaign in May, 1813, the Anglo-Portuguese army numbered close upon seventy thousand men of all arms, and were cantoned in the neighbourhood of the Douro. Morillo’s corps occupied Estremadura; Giron held the frontier of Gallicia; O’Donel was stationed in Andalusia; Elio on the frontiers of Murcia and Valencia; and the Duc del Parque, with a strong corps, held possession of La Mancha.

The French, at that time, might have probably mustered one hundred and fifty thousand men in Spain. Madrid and Toledo were in the occupation of the armies of the centre and the south, whose corps were spread over the central provinces. Valladolid had the head-quarters of the army of Portugal; the line of the Douro was carefully observed, while Suchet occupied Valencia and Catalonia; and a part of the army of the north was quartered in Aragon and Biscay.

Never did a leader take the field under more promising auspices, than those with which the allied commander opened the campaign of 1813. The Spanish troops were strong in numbers, and considerably improved in discipline; while the guerilla leaders were in great force, and ready for daring enterprise. Summer was coming fast--a rich and luxurious country was before him,--every requisite prepared for his march; his troops flushed with victory; and his opponents dispirited by constant discomfiture. Even the opening movements tended to increase these feelings--for the British were preparing to advance, and the French already retrograding. No wonder, then, that the brilliant hopes of a country were fully realized; that the career of English conquest continued almost without a check; and the fields of France saw her banners float in victory, until the last struggles at Orthes and Toulouse, attested the invincibility of Wellington and his island soldiery!

While the allies were preparing to march, Joseph Buonaparte put the army of the centre into motion, and, followed by those of the south and Portugal, retired slowly on the Ebro. As they were not pressed by the British light troops, the enemy’s corps moved leisurely towards the frontier, accompanied by enormous trains of equipage and baggage.

The appearance of the French army was more picturesque than military. It was crowded in its march, and too fanciful both in the character of its equipment and the variety of its costume. The line and light infantry excepted, few of the regiments were similarly dressed. The horse artillery wore uniforms of light blue, braided with black lace. The heavy cavalry were arrayed in green coats with brass helmets. The chasseurs and hussars, mounted on slight and active horses, were showily and variously equipped. The “gendarmerie à cheval,” a picked body chosen from the cavalry at large, had long blue frocks, with cocked hats and buff belts; while the _élite_ of the dragoons, selected for superior size and general appearance, were distinguished by bear-skin caps, and wore a look of martial determination, that their past and future bearing in the battle-field did not belie. Each regiment of the line had its company of grenadiers and voltigeurs-- even the light regiments having a company of the former. The appearance of the whole force was soldierly and imposing--the cavalry was indeed superb--and the artillery, as to guns, caissons, and appointments, most complete; and, better still, their horses were in excellent condition.

Both armies were in the highest state of efficiency--for to both the undivided attention of their commanding officers had been directed-- and yet in their respective equipments, a practised eye would detect a marked dissimilarity. With the British every thing was simple, compact, and limited, as far as its being serviceable would admit,-- while the French were sadly incumbered with useless equipages and accumulated plunder. Those of the Spanish noblesse who had acknowledged the usurper, now accompanied his retreat,--state functionaries, in court-dresses and rich embroidery, were mingled with the troops,-- calashes, carrying wives or mistresses, moved between brigades of guns; while nuns from Castile and ladies from Andalusia, attired _en militaire_ and mounted on horseback, deserted castle and convent, to follow the fortunes of some soldier or employé. Excepting that of his great brother when retreating from Moscow, no army since the days of Xerxes, was so overloaded with spoil and baggage as that of Joseph Buonaparte.

Although this abuse had not escaped the observation of many of the best officers in the army of the usurper, the facility with which these enormous ambulances were transported encouraged rather than repressed the evil. Looking on Spain as a conquered country, the means necessary to forward their convoys were unscrupulously seized--and every horse and mule was considered the property of the finder. The roads were good--the retreat unmolested--on the 10th, no enemy had appeared-- and the allies were remaining quietly in their quarters. The fancied apathy of the English general was extraordinary--and prisoners were asked by their French escort, “Was Lord Wellington asleep?”

But nothing could exceed the astonishment of Joseph, when, on the evening of the 18th, he was informed that the allies in considerable force, were actually on the left bank of the Ebro! The French dispositions were rendered useless, and an immediate night-march became unavoidable. The drums beat to arms--the baggage was put in motion-- and the entire of the French corps which had occupied Pancorbo or bivouacked in its vicinity, were hastily collected, and moved rapidly towards Vitoria.

Lord Wellington’s sudden advance was equally brilliant in conception and execution. While he had thrown five divisions over the Douro, to move through the Tras as Montes, upon Zamora, Hill was marching over the mountain district of Estremadura on the Tormes, and Lord Wellington on Salamanca, with two Anglo-Portuguese, a Spanish division, and a strong cavalry corps. The right wing of the allies took a position between the Tormes and the Douro--while Sir Thomas Graham, with the left, passed over a most difficult country, and surmounting every obstacle that bad roads and dangerous rivers could present, threatened the right of the French by Carvajales and Miranda.

On gaining the frontier, Graham secured his communication with the Gallician corps under Giron. The French retired, from the Esla, and the left wing of the British crossed it on the 31st of May. A difficult and defensible river was thus safely passed--and the enemy retreated, after blowing up the bridges of Zamora and Toro. At Morales, the French rear-guard, was overtaken and brought to action. Colonel Grant, with the hussar brigade, completely overthrew it,--killing a considerable number and capturing above two hundred men. Julian Sanchez was equally successful--he having surprised a French picket at Castronuno.

No movements executed during the Peninsular campaign exceeded in brilliant effect the rapid advance of the allied army from the Douro to the Bayas. Joseph had been obliged to abandon the capital, and fall back on Burgos. This was a necessary measure to ensure a concentration of his _corps d’armée_,--but still, it was considered doubtful whether Lord Wellington would continue his onward march, and under all circumstances, actually become assailant.

But the French leaders were astray when they fancied that the allied general would remain inactive. Quickly as the Douro had been crossed, the Carrion and the Pisuerga were as rapidly passed over. The enemy fell back on Burgos to concentrate, having occupied the heights above Harmoza with a strong corps. On the 12th, Hill’s division and the cavalry obliged Count Reille to fall back--and on the next morning the French retreated on Miranda, after abandoning Burgos and blowing up the castle.[217]

“It can hardly be imagined what additional interest even a brilliant operation will acquire from local circumstances, and the character of the country through which the line of march runs. The advance to the Zadorra exhibited, at every point of view, scenery beautiful as diversified. In it there was a singular combination of romantic wildness mingled with exquisite fertility. One while the columns moved through luxurious valleys, intersprinkled with hamlets, vineyards, and flower-gardens; at another, they struggled up mountain ridges, or pressed through alpine passes overhung with topping cliffs, making it almost difficult to decide, whether the rugged chasm which they were traversing had been rifted from the hill-side by an earthquake, or scarped by human hands. If the eye turned downwards, there lay sparkling rivers and sunny dells; above rose naked rocks and splintered precipices; while moving masses of glittering soldiery, now lost, now seen, amid the windings of the route, gave a panoramic character to the whole, that never can fade from the memory of him who saw it.”[218]

Pancorbo had been regularly garrisoned; and to force the Ebro, with a numerous and efficient army occupying its banks, would have been equally tedious in operation, and uncertain in results. Wellington, with admirable skill, suddenly branched to his left, and moved rapidly towards the sources of the river; and, on the 14th and 15th, crossed it safely by the mountain bridges of San Martin and Puente de Arenas. Of course, the march, from the nearly impassable character of the line of country over which it ran, required the determination and _esprit_ of British soldiers to accomplish. It was gallantly achieved; and that too, by a route hitherto unattempted by an army, and which every where presented the most formidable positions that a retreating corps could wish to hold. Yet Wellington’s march was unopposed,--and until the 18th, no hostile collision interrupted the order of the allied movements.

Two French brigades were overtaken by the light division. They had taken a position on the heights of Saint Milan; and although the ground was most unfavourable for an attack, nothing could surpass the dashing gallantry with which the British light troops assailed the enemy. The road by which it was necessary to attack, was rugged, steep, and narrow, overhung with crags and copse-wood; while a mountain stream protected the French front, and some straggling cottages increased the difficulty of advancing, by affording good cover to the voltigeurs formed behind them. After a sharp fusilade, the enemy gave ground, and the light brigade was pressing forward, when suddenly, a fresh column debouched from a ravine, and appeared on the flank of the assailants. Both rushed on to gain the crest of the hill--and both reached the plateau together. The 52nd, bringing their left flank forward in a run, faced sharply round, and charged with the bayonet. The conflict was but momentary; the French broke, threw away their knapsacks, and fled to gain the neighbouring high grounds, leaving their arms and baggage, and nearly three hundred of their number _hors de combat_.

On the same day, Jourdan suddenly attacked Graham’s corps at Osma, but he was driven back on Espejo; and falling farther back, the French took up a strong position behind the Bayas, with their right on the village of Sabijana; but they held it only till next day,--when being attacked in front, and their left turned, they fell back and united the _corps d’armée_ in front of Vitoria.[219]

That city, on the evening of 19th, displayed a singular spectacle of hurry and alarm--confusion and magnificence. Joseph Buonaparte, with his staff and guards, the entire of his court, and the head-quarters of the army of the centre, accompanied by an endless collection of equipages, intermingled with cavalry, artillery, and their numerous ambulances, occupied the buildings and crowded the streets--while an unmanageable mass of soldiers and civilians were every moment increased by fresh arrivals, all vainly seeking for accommodation in a town unequal to afford shelter to half their number.

“But a yet stranger scene was enacting in Vitoria. While the city was brilliantly illuminated in honour of the pseudo-king,--and a gayer sight could not be fancied than its sparkling interior presented;-- beyond the walls, an army was taking a position, and a multitude of the peasants, forced by the French engineers, were employed in throwing up field defences, and assisting those who had ruled them with an iron hand to place their guns in battery, and make other military dispositions to repel the army of the allies, who were advancing to effect their deliverance.”[220]

VITORIA.

City of Vitoria.--French position.--Opening, progress, and close of
the engagement.--Field of battle.

Vitoria is a city of great antiquity, and the capital of the province of Alava. It stands in a valley surrounded on every side by high grounds, while in the distance a lesser range of the Pyrenees is visible. Its name is derived from some forgotten victory, or, as some assert, from one achieved by its founder, Sancho VII. In front of this city[221] Joseph Buonaparte concentrated his _corps d’armée_ on the night of the 19th, to cover the town, and hold the three great roads leading from Lagrona, Madrid, and Bilboa, to Bayonne.

The day of the 20th was occupied by Lord Wellington in bringing forward his detached brigades, and making a careful _reconnaissance_ of the enemy. Although, generally, the position selected by Marshal Jourdan was strong, and certainly well chosen to effect the objects for which he risked a battle, still it had one material defect. Its great extent would permit many simultaneous efforts to be made by an attacking army; and accordingly on the following day, the allied leader, with admirable skill, availed himself of this advantage--and a most decisive victory was the result.

In point of strength, the contending armies were nearly equal, each numbering from seventy to seventy-five thousand men, the allies exceeding the French, probably by five thousand. Perfect in every arm, more splendid troops were never ranged upon a battle-field. Both armies were ably commanded,--nominally, Joseph was général-en-chef--but Jourdan chose the ground, and directed every disposition.

The morning of the 21st broke in glorious sunshine. The atmosphere was cloudless--and from the adjacent heights the progress of the battle could be distinctly viewed, except when smoke-wreaths for a time hid the combatants from many an anxious looker-on.

The French corps occupied a line of nearly eight miles,--the extreme left placed upon the heights of La Puebla, and the right resting on an eminence above the villages of Abechuco and Gamarra Mayor. The centre was posted along a range of hills on the left bank of the river; while a strong corps, resting its right flank upon the left centre, was formed on the bold high grounds which rise behind the village of Sabijana. The reserve was placed at the village of Gomecha; and the banks of the Zadorra, and a small wood between the centre and the right, were thickly lined with tirailleurs. The first line consisted of the armies of Portugal and the south; and the army of the centre, with the greater portion of the cavalry, formed the reserve. That part of the position near the village of Gomecha, having been considered by Jourdan his most vulnerable point, was defended by a numerous artillery. The bridges were fortified--the communications from one part of the position to the other were direct--a deep river ran in front--the great roads to Bayonne and Pamplona in the rear--while, to arrest Wellington’s career, and preserve the immense convoys within the city, or on the road to France, loaded with the plunder of a despoiled capital and a denuded country, the pseudo-king determined to accept the battle, which the British leader was now prepared to deliver.[222]

During the Peninsular campaigns, there was no battle fought that required nicer combinations, and a more correct calculation in time and movement, than that of Vitoria. It was impossible for Lord Wellington to bring up, to an immediate proximity for attack, every portion of his numerous army, and hence many of his brigades had bivouacked on the preceding night a considerable distance from the Zadorra. Part of the country before Vitoria was difficult and rocky; and hamlets, enclosures, and ravines, separated the columns from each other; hence some of them were obliged to move by narrow and broken roads--and arrangements, perfect in themselves, were liable to embarrassment from numerous contingencies. But the genius that directed these extended operations, could remedy fortuitous events, should such occur.

At daybreak, on the 21st, Wellington’s dispositions were complete, and the allied army in motion. Sir Rowland Hill, with the second British, Amarante’s Portuguese, and Morillo’s[223] Spanish divisions, was ordered to storm the heights of La Puebla, occupied by the enemy’s left. The first and fifth divisions, with Pack’s and Bradford’s brigades, Bock’s and Anson’s cavalry, and Longa’s Spanish corps, were directed to turn the French right, cross the Zadorra, and seize on the Bayonne road. The third, fourth, seventh, and light divisions, were to advance in two columns and attack Vitoria in front and flank, and thus oblige Jourdan either to come to a general engagement, or abandon the city and sacrifice his valuable convoys.

At dawn of day, Joseph placed himself upon a height that overlooked his right and centre. He was attended by a numerous staff, and protected by his own body-guard. Wellington chose an eminence in front of the village of Arinez, commanding the right bank of the Zadorra, and continued there, observing through a glass the progress of the fight, and directing the movements of his divisions, as calmly as he would have inspected their movements at a review.

The attack commenced by Hill’s division moving soon after daylight by the Miranda road, and the detaching of Morillo’s Spanish corps to carry the heights of La Puebla, and drive in the left flank of the enemy. The latter task was a difficult one, as the ground rose abruptly from the valley, and towering to a considerable height, presented a sheer ascent, that at first sight appeared almost impracticable.

The Spaniards, with great difficulty, although unopposed, reached the summit; and there, among rocks and broken ground, became sharply engaged with the French left. Perceiving that they were unable to force the enemy from the heights, Sir Rowland Hill advanced a British brigade to Morillo’s assistance; while, alarmed for the safety of his flank, Jourdan detached troops from his centre to support the division that held La Puebla. A fierce and protracted combat ensued--the loss on both sides was severe--and Colonel Cadogan fell at the head of his brigade. But gradually and steadily the British gained ground; and while the eyes of both armies were turned upon the combatants and the possession of the heights seemed doubtful still, the eagle glance of Wellington discovered the forward movement of the Highland tartans, and he announced to his staff, that La Puebla was carried.[224]