Beira. (April, 1812.)

After the storming of Badajos the English general desired to fight Soult in Andalusia, and his cavalry under Sir Stapleton Cotton very soon overtook the French horse and defeated them near Usagre with a loss to the victors of fifty or sixty men, to the vanquished of two or three hundred, one half being prisoners. Had that action been rapidly followed up by a powerful army a great victory would probably have crowned this extraordinary winter campaign, but obstacles, untimely and unexpected, arose. Carlos EspaÑa’s oppressions had created a dangerous spirit in the garrison of Rodrigo, the people of the vicinity were alarmed, both that fortress and Almeida were insecure, and Marmont was on the Coa. These things were to be remedied before Andalusia could be invaded. Yet the danger was not absolute, and Wellington lingered about Badajos, hoping Soult, in anger for its fall, would risk a blow north of the Morena. That marshal was indeed deeply moved, but the Spanish armies were menacing Seville, and the allies were double his numbers; hence he returned to Seville and Wellington marched to Beira, which Marmont was now ravaging with great violence.

Following the letter not the spirit of Napoleon’s orders, for he was discontented at being debarred a junction with Soult, Marmont had reluctantly made this diversion, and seemed to have exhaled his ill-will by a savage warfare contrary to his natural disposition. Carlos EspaÑa fled before him, the Portuguese militia were dispersed in a skirmish near Guarda, Victor Alten retreated across the Tagus at Villa Velha though the French were still fifty miles distant; and though personally a very brave man was so disturbed in judgment that he meditated burning the bridge there, which would have ruined Lord Wellington’s combinations. The whole country was in commotion, the population flying before the ravaging enemy, and all things in disorder; the Portuguese general Lecor alone preserved a martial attitude: he checked the French cavalry, saved the magazines and hospitals, and hung upon the French rear when they retired. When the allies came on from Badajos Marmont was, at first, inclined to fight, but found it too dangerous from the flooding of the rivers behind him, and it was only by the interposition of fortune that he avoided a great disaster. Finally he retired to Salamanca, carrying with him as a prisoner Captain Colquhoun Grant, a scouting officer of great eminence, whose escape furnished an episode in this war more surprising even than that of Colonel Waters.

Grant, in whom the utmost daring was so mixed with subtlety of genius, and both so tempered by discretion that it is hard to say which quality predominated, had been sent from Badajos to watch the French movements. Attended by Leon, a Spanish peasant, faithful and quick of apprehension, who had been his companion on many former occasions, he reached the Salamanca district, passed the Tormes during the night in uniform, for he never assumed any disguise, and remained three days in the midst of the French camps. He thus obtained exact information of Marmont’s object, of his provisions and scaling-ladders, making notes, which he sent to Wellington from day to day by Spanish agents. The third night, some peasants brought him an order thus worded—“The notorious Grant is within the circle of cantonments, the soldiers are to strive for his capture, and guards will be placed in a circle round the army.” Grant consulted the peasants, and before daylight entered the village of Huerta close to a ford on the Tormes, where there was a French battalion, and on the other bank of the river cavalry videttes, patrolling back and forward for the space of three hundred yards, yet meeting always at the ford.

At daylight, when the soldiers were at their alarm-post, he was secretly brought with his horse behind the gable of a house, which hid him from the infantry and was near the ford. The peasants, standing on loose stones, spread their large cloaks to hide him from the videttes until the latter were separated the full extent of their beat; then putting spurs to his horse he dashed through the ford between them, received their cross fire without damage, and reaching a wood baffled pursuit, and was soon rejoined by Leon.

Grant had before ascertained that ladders for storming Rodrigo were prepared, and the French officers openly talked of doing so; but desiring further to test this, and ascertain if Marmont’s march might not finally be for the Tagus, wishing also to discover the French force, he placed himself on a wooded hill near Tamames where the road branched off to the passes and to Rodrigo. There lying perdue while the army passed in march, he noted every battalion and gun, and finding all went towards Rodrigo entered Tamames, and found the greatest part of their scaling-ladders had been left there, showing that the intention to storm Rodrigo was not real. This it was which had allayed Wellington’s fears for that fortress when he sought to entice Soult to battle.

Marmont then passed the Coa, but Grant preceded him, with intent to discover if his further march would be by Guarda upon Coimbra, or by Sabugal upon Castello Branco; for to reach the latter it was necessary to descend from a very high ridge, or rather succession of ridges, by a pass at the lower mouth of which stands Penamacor. Upon one of the inferior ridges of this pass he placed himself, thinking the dwarf oaks which covered the hill would secure him from discovery; but from the higher ridge the French detected his movements with their glasses, and in a few moments Leon, whose lynx eyes were always on the watch, called out, the French! the French! Some dragoons came galloping up, Grant and his follower darted into the wood for a little space and then suddenly wheeling rode off in a different direction; but at every turn new enemies appeared, and at last the hunted men dismounted and fled on foot through the low oaks; again they were met by infantry, detached in small parties down the sides of the pass, and directed in their chase by the waving of hats on the ridge above: Leon fell exhausted, and those who first came up killed him in despite of his companion’s entreaties: a barbarous action!

Grant they carried to Marmont, who invited him to dinner, and the conversation turned on the prisoner’s exploits. The French marshal said he had been long on the watch, knew all his captive’s haunts and disguises, had discovered that only the night before he slept in the French head-quarters, with other adventures which had not happened, for this Grant never used any disguise; but there was another Grant, also very remarkable in his way, who used to remain for months in the French quarters, using all manner of disguises; hence the similarity of names caused the actions of both to be attributed to one, and that is the only palliative for Marmont’s subsequent conduct.

Treating his prisoner with apparent kindness, he exacted from him an especial parole, that he would not admit a rescue by the Partidas while on his journey through Spain to France: this secured his captive, though Wellington offered two thousand dollars to any guerilla chief who should recover him. The exaction of such a parole was a tacit compliment to the man; but Marmont sent a letter with the escort to the governor of Bayonne, in which, still in error as to there being but one Grant, he designated his captive as a dangerous spy who had done infinite mischief, and whom he had not executed on the spot out of respect to something resembling uniform which he wore: he therefore desired, that at Bayonne he should be placed in irons and sent to Paris: this was so little in accord with French honour, that before the Spanish frontier was passed Grant was made acquainted with the treachery.

At Bayonne, in ordinary cases, the custom was for prisoners to wait on the authorities and receive passports for Verdun; this was done; the letter was purposely delayed, and Grant with sagacious boldness refrained from escaping towards the Pyrenees. Judging, that if the governor did not recapture him at once he would entirely suppress the letter, and let the matter drop, he asked at the hotels if any French officer was going to Paris, and finding General Souham, then on his return from Spain, was so bent, he introduced himself, requesting permission to join his party. The other readily assented, and while thus travelling the general, unacquainted with Marmont’s intentions, often rallied his companion about his adventures, little thinking he was then an instrument to forward the most dangerous and skilful of them all.

In passing through Orleans, Grant by a species of intuition discovered a secret English agent, and from him received a recommendation to another in Paris. He looked upon Marmont’s double-dealing, and the expressed design to take away his life, as equivalent to a discharge of his parole, which was moreover only given with respect to Spain; hence on reaching Paris he took leave of Souham, opened an intercourse with the Parisian agent, and obtained money. He would not go before the police to have his passport examined, but took lodgings in a public street, frequented the coffee-houses and visited the theatres boldly, for the secret agent, intimately connected with the police, soon ascertained that his escape had been unnoticed.

After several weeks, the agent told him a passport was ready for one Jonathan Buck, an American who had died suddenly on the day it was to be claimed. Grant coolly demanded this passport as for Jonathan Buck and instantly departed for the mouth of the Loire, where, for reasons not necessary to mention, he expected more assistance. New difficulties awaited him, yet they were overcome by fresh exertions of his surprising talent, which fortune seemed to delight in aiding. Having taken a passage in an American ship its departure was unexpectedly delayed; then he frankly told his situation to the captain, who desired him to become a discontented seaman, gave him sailor’s clothing with forty dollars, and sent him to lodge the money in the American consul’s hands, as a pledge that he would prosecute for ill usage when he reached the United States: this being the custom, the consul gave him a certificate to pass from port to port as a discharged sailor seeking a ship.

A promise of ten Napoleons induced a French boatman to row him in the night to a small island, where, by usage, English vessels watered unmolested, and, in return, permitted the few inhabitants to fish and traffic without interruption. The masts of the British ships were dimly seen beyond the island, and the termination of all Grant’s toils seemed at hand, when the boatman from fear or malice returned to port. Some men would have strived in desperation to force fortune and so have perished, others would have sunk in despair, for the money promised was Grant’s all, and the boatman demanded full payment; but with admirable coolness he gave him one piece and a rebuke for his misconduct; the other threatened a reference to the police yet found himself overmatched in subtlety: his opponent replied that he would then denounce him as aiding the escape of a prisoner of war, and adduce the price of his boat as a proof of his guilt!

An old fisherman was afterwards engaged, and faithfully performed his bargain, but there were then no English vessels near the island; however the fisherman caught some fish, with which he sailed towards the southward, having heard of an English ship of war being there. A glimpse was obtained of her, and they were steering that way when a shot from a coast-battery brought them to, and a boat with soldiers put off to board. The fisherman was steadfast and true. He called Grant his son, and the soldiers were only sent to warn them not to pass the battery because an English vessel, the one they were in search of, was on the coast. The old man bribed the soldiers with his fish, assuring them he must go with his son or they would starve, and he was so well acquainted with the coast he could easily escape the enemy. Being desired to wait till night and then depart, he, under pretence of avoiding the English vessel, made the soldiers point out her bearings so exactly that when darkness fell he run her straight on board, and the intrepid Grant stood in safety on the quarter deck.

In England he got permission to choose a French officer for an exchange, that no doubt might remain as to the propriety of his escape; great was his astonishment to find in the first prison he visited the old fisherman and his real son, who had been captured notwithstanding a protection given to them for their services. Grant, whose generosity and benevolence were as remarkable as the qualities of his understanding, soon obtained their release, sent them with a sum of money to France, returned to the Peninsula, and within four months from the date of his first capture was again on the Tormes, watching Marmont’s army as before! Other adventures could be mentioned of this generous and spirited, yet gentle-minded man, who, having served his country nobly in every climate, died a victim to continual hardships aided by a mortified spirit, for he had not been rewarded as he deserved.

Surprise of Almaraz. (May, 1812.)

So many obstacles, military and political, were to be overcome before Andalusia could be invaded, 1812, that Lord Wellington finally resigned that project and meditated instead, operations against Marmont’s army. To obtain success it was essential to isolate him as much as possible, and in that view various combinations were matured; but the most important stroke was to destroy the bridge and forts at Almaraz on the Tagus. Strong in works, that place was also a great depÔt for stores and boats, and not only facilitated the passage of the Tagus for reinforcements coming from Soult, but was sufficient to serve as a base and place of arms for an army to operate on the rear and flank of the British, if they engaged with Marmont in Castile. General Hill, who remained with a force in the Alemtejo, was charged with this great and dangerous enterprise, for a clear understanding of which the nature of the country must be described.

The left bank of the Tagus, from Toledo to Almaraz, is lined with rugged mountains, difficult for small bodies, impracticable for an army. From Almaraz to the frontier of Portugal the banks are more open, yet still difficult, and the Tagus was only to be crossed at certain points, to which bad roads led. From Almaraz to Alcantara the bridges, both those included, were ruined, and those of Arzobispo and Talavera above Almaraz were of little value because of the rugged mountains. Soult’s pontoon equipage had been captured in Badajos, and the French could only cross the Tagus between Toledo and the frontier of Portugal by Marmont’s boat bridge at Almaraz, to secure which he had constructed three strong forts and a bridge-head.

The first, called Ragusa, contained stores and provisions, and was, though not finished, exceedingly strong; it had a loopholed stone tower twenty-five feet high within, and was flanked without by a field-work near the bridge. This was on the north bank. On the south bank the bridge had a fortified head of masonry, which was again flanked by a redoubt called Fort Napoleon, placed on a height a little in advance; imperfectly constructed, however, inasmuch as a wide berm in the middle of the scarp furnished a landing-place for troops escalading. It was yet strong, because it contained a second interior defence or retrenchment, with a loopholed stone tower, a ditch, drawbridge, and palisades.

These forts and the bridge-head were armed with eighteen guns and garrisoned with eleven hundred men, which insured command of the river; but the mountains on the left bank precluded the passage of an army towards Lower Estremadura, save by the royal road to Truxillo, which, five miles from the Tagus, went over the lofty rugged Mirabete ridge: to secure the summit of this, the French had drawn a line of works across the throat of the pass; that is to say, a large fortified house was connected by smaller posts with the ancient watch-tower of Mirabete, which contained eight guns and was surrounded by a rampart twelve feet high.

If all these works, and a road, which Marmont, following the traces of an ancient Roman way, was now opening across the Gredos mountains had been finished, the communication of the French, though circuitous, would have been very good and secure. Wellington feared that accomplishment and designed to surprise Almaraz previous to the siege of Badajos, when the redoubts were far from complete; but the Portuguese government then baffled him by neglecting to furnish the means of transporting the artillery from Lisbon. Hill now marched to attempt it with a force of six thousand men, including four hundred cavalry, two field brigades of artillery, a pontoon equipage, and a battering-train of six iron twenty-four-pound howitzers. The enterprise was become more difficult. For when the army was round Badajos, only the resistance of the forts was to be looked to; now Foy’s division of Marmont’s army was in the valley of the Tagus, and troops from the king’s army occupied Talavera. Drouet was also with eight or nine thousand men near Medellin, and closer to Merida than Hill was to Almaraz; he might therefore intercept the latter’s retreat—and the king’s orders were imperative that he should hang on the English force in Estremadura. Hill had therefore to steer, going and coming, through all these forces with an unwieldy convoy, and as it were, blot out the strong place without a battle; but Wellington took many precautions to divert the French attention to other points, and to furnish support without indicating the true object.

Hill, though dangerously delayed by the difficulty of restoring the bridge of Merida, which he had himself destroyed during the siege of Badajos, crossed the Guadiana with six thousand men, twelve field-pieces, pontoons, battering-train and fifty country carts, conveying material and ammunition. On the 15th he reached Truxillo, and during his march the guerillas of the Guadalupe mountains made demonstrations at different points, between Almaraz and Arzobispo, as if seeking a place to cast a bridge that he might join Wellington. Foy was deceived by these feints, for his spies at Truxillo, while reporting the passage of the Guadiana, said Hill had fifteen thousand men, and that two brigades of cavalry were following: one report even stated that thirty thousand men had entered Truxillo, whereas there were less than six thousand of all arms.

Early on the 16th the armament reached Jaraicejo, formed three columns, and made a night march, intending to surprise at the same moment, the tower of Mirabete, the fortified house in the pass, and the forts at the bridge of Almaraz. The left column, directed against the tower, was commanded by General Chowne. The centre, with the dragoons and artillery, moved by the royal road under General Long. The right, composed of the 50th, 71st, and 92nd Regiments, under Hill in person, was to penetrate by the narrow and difficult way of Roman Gordo against the forts of the bridge; but day broke before any column reached its destination, and all hopes of a surprise were extinguished. This was an untoward beginning, unavoidable with the right and centre column because of the bad roads, but Chowne was negligent, for the Mirabete tower might have been assaulted before daylight.

Hill now saw that to reduce the Mirabete works in the pass he must incur more loss than was justifiable, and be in such plight that he could not finally carry the forts below; yet it was only through the pass the artillery could move against the bridge. In this dilemma, after losing the 17th and part of the 18th, in fruitless attempts to discover some opening through which to reach Almaraz with his guns, he resolved to leave them on the Sierra with the centre column, make a false attack on the tower with Chowne’s troops, and in person, with the right column, secretly penetrate by the scarcely practicable line of Roman Gordo to the bridge, intent, with infantry alone, to storm works which were defended by eighteen pieces of artillery and powerful garrisons!

This resolution was even more hardy than it appears, without a reference to the general state of affairs. His march had been one of secrecy, amidst various divisions of the enemy; he was four days’ journey from Merida, his first point of retreat; he expected Drouet to be reinforced and advance, and hence, whether defeated or victorious at Almaraz, his retreat would be very dangerous; exceedingly so if defeated, because his fine British troops could not be repulsed with a small loss, and he would have to fall back through a difficult country, with his best soldiers dispirited by failure and burthened by numbers of wounded men. Then, harassed on one side by Drouet, pursued by Foy and D’Armagnac on the other, he would have been exposed to the greatest misfortunes, every slanderous tongue would have been let loose on the rashness of attacking impregnable forts, and a military career, hitherto so glorious, might have terminated in shame. Devoid of interested ambition, he was unshaken by such fears, and remained concealed until the evening of the 18th, when he commenced the descent, with design to escalade the Fort Napoleon before daylight. The march was less than six miles, but the head of the troops only reached the fort a little before daylight, the rear was distant, and it was doubtful if the scaling ladders, cut in halves to thread the short narrow turns in the precipitous descent, would serve for an assault. Some small hills concealed the head of the column, and at that moment Chowne commenced his false attack at Mirabete. Pillars of white smoke rose on the lofty brow of the Sierra, the heavy sound of artillery came rolling over the valley, and the garrison of Fort Napoleon, crowding on the ramparts, were gazing at those portentous signs of war, when, quick and loud, a British shout broke on their ears, and the 50th Regiment with a wing of the 71st, came bounding over the low hills.

Surprised the French were to see an enemy so close while the Mirabete was still defended, yet they were not unprepared; a patrol of English cavalry had been seen from the fort on the 17th, and in the evening of the 18th a woman had given exact information of Hill’s numbers and designs. This intelligence had caused the commandant, Aubert, to march in the night with reinforcements to Fort Napoleon, which was therefore defended by six companies ready to fight, and when the first shout was heard they smote with musketry and artillery on the British front, while the guns of Fort Ragusa took them in flank. A rise of ground, twenty yards from the ramparts, soon covered the assailants from the front fire, and General Howard, leading the foremost into the ditch, commenced the escalade. The breadth of the berm kept off the ends of the shortened ladders from the parapet, but the first men jumped on to the berm itself and drawing up the ladders planted them there; then with a second escalade they won the rampart and, closely fighting, all went together into the retrenchment round the stone tower. Aubert was wounded and taken, and the garrison fled towards the bridge-head, but the victorious troops would not be shaken off, they entered that work also in one confused mass with the fugitives, who continued their flight over the bridge itself. Still the British soldiers pushed their headlong charge, slaying the hindmost, and would have passed the river if some of the boats had not been destroyed by stray shots from the forts, which were now sharply cannonading each other, for the artillery men had turned the guns of Napoleon on Fort Ragusa.

Many French, leaping into the water, were drowned, but the greatest part were made prisoners, and to the amazement of the conquerors the panic pervaded the other side of the river, where the garrison of Ragusa, though perfectly safe, fled with the others! Some grenadiers of the 92nd, then swimming over, brought back boats, with which the bridge was restored and the towers and works of Ragusa were destroyed, and the stores, ammunition, provisions and boats, burned. In the night the troops returned to the Mirabete ridge with the colours of the foreign regiment, and two hundred and fifty prisoners, including a commandant and sixteen other officers, their own loss being a hundred and eighty men. One officer of artillery was killed by his own mine, placed for the destruction of the tower, but the only officer slain in the assault was Captain Candler, of the 50th, a brave man, who fell leading the grenadiers of that regiment on to the rampart of Fort Napoleon.

Rapidity was an essential cause of this success. Foy had ordered D’Armagnac to reinforce the forts with a battalion, which might have entered Fort Ragusa early in the morning of the 19th; but instead of marching before day-break, it did not move until eleven o’clock, and meeting the fugitives on the road caught the panic.

Hill was about to reduce the works at Mirabete, when Sir W. Erskine, confused by the French movements, gave a false alarm, which caused a retreat on Merida; Wellington, in reference to this error of Erskine, told the ministers, that his generals, stout in action as the poorest soldiers, were overwhelmed with fear of responsibility when left to themselves: the slightest movement of an enemy deprived them of judgment. Erskine was a miserable officer; but all officers knew, that without powerful interest future prospects and past services would wither under the blight of a disaster; that a selfish government would instantly offer them as victims to a misjudging public and a ribald press, with which success is the only criterion of merit. English generals are, and must be, prodigal of their blood to gain reputation; but they are timid in command, because a single failure without a fault consigns them to shame and abuse.

Having resumed his former position, Hill engaged in a series of marches and countermarches against Drouet, yet no action occurred, save one between General Slade and General Lallemande, with two regiments of dragoons on each side. Slade, contrary to orders, drove back the French horsemen for eight miles, and through the defile of Maquilla followed in disorder; but in the plain beyond stood Lallemande’s reserves, with which he broke the disorderly mass, killed or wounded fifty, pursued for six miles and took a hundred prisoners. Two days after, the Austrian Strenowitz, having but fifty men of Slade’s dragoons, recovered all the wounded prisoners, defeated eighty French, killed many and took twenty-six: such is the difference between mere dash and military skill.

In the summer of 1812 Lord Wellington resolved to fight Marmont. There were many reasons for this, but the principal one was, that Napoleon was in the heart of Russia, that his own army was stronger, especially in cavalry, than it had yet been or was likely to be, and if he did not then strike no better opportunity could be expected. He had ninety thousand men, British and Portuguese, but six thousand were in Cadiz, and the Walcheren expedition was still to be atoned for; the regiments which had served there were so sickly that only thirty-two thousand British were in line; yet to these he could join twenty-five thousand Portuguese, making fifty-seven thousand sabres and bayonets, which he judged sufficient. Of this force Hill had seventeen thousand, two thousand being cavalry with twenty-four guns. General D’Urban was with twelve hundred Portuguese horsemen in the Tras Os Montes, and was to coÖperate with Wellington, who had therefore nearly forty thousand of all arms, three thousand five hundred being cavalry, with fifty-four guns.

Almaraz bridge had been destroyed to lengthen the French lateral line of communication, Alcantara was now repaired to shorten the British line; and though the break in that stupendous structure was ninety feet wide and one hundred and fifty above the water, the genius of Colonel Sturgeon overcame the difficulty. Hill’s army was thus brought a fortnight nearer to Wellington than Drouet was to Marmont, if both marched with artillery; and as the army of the centre was, by the king’s misrule, in a state of great disorder, Marmont was for a time isolated from all the other armies save that of the north, now under General Caffarelli, who was however occupied by maritime expeditions from CoruÑa.

Marmont was a man to be feared. He was quick of apprehension, morally and physically brave, scientific, used to war, strong of body, in the prime of life, eager for glory; and though neither a great nor a fortunate commander, such a one as could bear the test of fire. He had strongly fortified three convents at Salamanca, and having about twenty-five thousand men in hand, demanded aid from the king, from Soult, and from the army of the north. His design was to dispute the Tormes and Duero in succession, the first by his forts, the second with an army, which he could augment to forty-six thousand without extraneous aid by calling Bonet’s division from the Asturias.

On the 13th of June Wellington advanced to the Tormes. The bridge of Salamanca was barred by the French forts, all the others had been destroyed save that of Alba de Tormes, the castle of which was garrisoned; the allies however passed the river above and below Salamanca by the fords of Santa Marta and Los Cantos, and General Clinton invested the forts with the sixth division. Marmont, who had two divisions and some cavalry, retired by the road of Toro. Salamanca then became a scene of rejoicing. The houses were illuminated, the people, shouting, singing and weeping for joy, gave Wellington their welcome while his army took a position on the hill of San Christoval five miles in advance.

Siege of the Salamanca Forts. (June, 1812.)

Clinton had only four heavy guns and three twenty-four-pound howitzers, but the train used by Hill at Almaraz had passed the Tagus at Alcantara on its way up. The strength of the forts had however been under-estimated, they contained eight hundred men. San Vincente, placed on a perpendicular cliff overhanging the Tormes, had a fortified convent within, and was well flanked and separated by a deep ravine from the other forts; and these last, called San Cajetano and La Merced, though smaller and of a square form, were bomb-proof and with deep ditches.

The engineer Burgoyne, directing the siege, commenced a battery two hundred and fifty yards from Vincente, and as the ruins of convents all around which had been destroyed to make the forts, rendered it impossible to excavate, earth was brought from a distance; but the moon was up, the night short, the French musketry heavy, the sixth division inexperienced, and at daybreak the battery was still imperfect. An attempt had been made to attach the miner secretly to the counterscarp, but the vigilance of a trained dog baffled this design: it was then openly made, yet defeated by a plunging fire from the top of the convent.

On the 18th eight hundred Germans, placed in the ruins, mastered all the enemy’s fire save that from loop-holes, and two field-pieces were placed on a neighbouring convent to silence the French artillery, but failed.

In the night the first battery was armed; at daybreak on the 19th seven guns opened, and by nine o’clock the wall of the convent was cut away to the level of the rampart; a second breaching battery of iron howitzers, which saw lower down the scarp, then commenced its fire, but that ordnance was unmeet for battering, and the enemy’s musketry brought down a captain and more than twenty gunners.

The 20th Colonel Dickson arrived with more iron howitzers from Elvas, and the second battery, reinforced with additional pieces, revived its fire, striking only the convent, a huge cantle of which came to the ground, crushing many of the garrison and laying bare the inside of the building; carcasses were immediately thrown into the opening, but the enemy extinguished the flames. A lieutenant and fifteen gunners were lost this day, ammunition failed, and the attack was suspended.

During this siege the aspect of affairs had changed on both sides. Wellington, deceived as to the strength of the forts, now found by intercepted returns that both Soult and Marmont were far stronger than he had expected; he had calculated also that Bonet’s division would not quit the Asturias, but that general was in full march for Leon; Caffarelli was likewise preparing to reinforce Marmont, and thus the brilliant prospect of the campaign was suddenly clouded. Meanwhile Marmont, having united four divisions of infantry and a brigade of cavalry, twenty-five thousand men, came to the succour of the forts. His approach, over an open country, being descried at a considerable distance, a brigade was called from the siege, the battering train was sent across the Tormes, and the army formed in order of battle on the top of San Christoval. This position was four miles long, rather concave, and the steep descent in front tangled with hollow roads, stone inclosures and villages; the summit was broad, even, and covered with ripe corn, the right was flanked by the Upper Tormes, the left dipped into the country bordering the Lower Tormes; for in passing Salamanca that river took a sweep round the back of the position. The infantry, heavy cavalry and guns, crowned the summit of the mountain, but the light cavalry was in a low country on the left, where there was a small stream and a marshy flat. In front of the left, centre, and right, the villages of Christoval, Castillanos, and Moresco, were nearly in a line at the foot of the position, which overlooked the country for many miles, yet had neither shade nor fuel to cook with, nor water nearer than the Tormes, and the heat was very oppressive.

At five o’clock in the evening the enemy’s horsemen approached, pointing towards the left of the position, as if to turn it by the Lower Tormes; to check this the light cavalry made a short forward movement and a partial charge took place, but the French opened six guns and the others retired to their own ground. The light division immediately closed towards the left, and the French cavalry halted. Meanwhile the main body of the enemy bore with a rapid pace in one dark volume against the right, and halting at the foot of the position sent a flight of shells on to the lofty summit; nor did this fire cease until after dark, when Marmont, taking possession of Moresco, established himself behind that village and Castillanos, within gun-shot of the allies.

That night the English general slept amongst the troops, and the first streak of light saw both sides under arms. Some signals were interchanged between Marmont and the forts, yet all remained quiet until evening, when Wellington detached the 68th Regiment to drive the French from Moresco. This attack, made with vigour, succeeded, but the troops being recalled just as daylight failed, a body of French, passing unperceived through standing corn, broke into the village unexpectedly and did considerable execution. In the skirmish an officer, named Mackay, being surrounded, refused to surrender, and, fighting against a multitude, received more wounds than the human frame was thought capable of sustaining; yet he lived to show his honourable scars.

Next day three divisions and a brigade of cavalry joined Marmont, who, having now forty thousand men, extended his left and seized a part of the height in advance of the allies’ right wing. From thence he could discern the whole of their order of battle, and attack their right on even terms; but Graham, using the seventh division, dislodged his detachment with a sharp skirmish before it could be formidably reinforced, and in the night the French withdrew to some heights six miles in rear.

It was thought Marmont’s tempestuous advance to Moresco on the evening of the 20th should have been his ruin; but Wellington argued, that if he came to fight it was better to defend a strong position than descend to combat in the plain; for the French inferiority was not such as to insure a result decisive of the campaign, and in case of failure, a retreat across the Tormes would have been very difficult. To this may be added, that during the first evening there was some confusion amongst the allies; the troops, of different nations, had formed their order of battle slowly; the descent of the mountain towards the enemy was by no means easy; walls, hollow ways and villages, covered the French front, and Marmont, having plenty of guns and troops ready of movement, could have evaded the action until night. This reasoning however failed on the 21st. The allies, whose infantry was a third more, their cavalry three times as numerous and much better mounted, might have poured down by all the roads at daybreak, and then Marmont, turned on both flanks and followed vehemently, could never have made his retreat to the Duero through the open country: on the 22nd, when his other troops came up, the chances were no longer the same.

Marmont now withdrew his right, abandoning the road of Toro, but keeping that of Tordesillas, and placing his left on the Tormes at Huerta, where the river took a sudden bend, descending perpendicularly towards the allies. Thus commanding the ford of Huerta he could pass the river and communicate by the left bank with his forts. Wellington made corresponding dispositions. Closing towards the river, he placed the light division at the ford of Aldea Lengua, sent Graham down with two divisions to the nearer ford of Santa Marta, and General Bock’s heavy German cavalry over the Tormes to watch the ford of Huerta.

On the 23rd all was tranquil, but at break of day on the 24th some dropping pistol-shots, and now and then a shout, came faintly from a mist covering the lower ground beyond the river; the heavy sound of artillery succeeded, and the hissing of bullets cutting through the thickened atmosphere told that the French were over the Tormes. Soon the fog vanished, and the German horsemen were seen retiring in close and beautiful order before twelve thousand French infantry, advancing in battle array. At intervals, twenty guns would start forwards and send their bullets whistling and tearing up the ground beneath the Germans, while scattered parties of light cavalry scouting out capped all the hills in succession, peering abroad and giving signals to the main body. Wellington then sent Graham over the river with two divisions and a brigade of English cavalry, concentrating the rest of his troops near Moresco to await the event.

Bock continued his retreat in fine order, regardless alike of the cannonade and of the light horsemen on his flanks, until the enemy’s scouts gained a height, from whence, at the distance of three miles, they for the first time perceived Graham’s twelve thousand men, ranged with eighteen guns on an order of battle perpendicular to the Tormes. From the same point Wellington’s heavy columns were seen clustering on the height above the fords of Santa Marta, and the light division at Aldea Lengua, ready either to advance against the French troops left on the right bank, or to pass the river in aid of Graham. At this sight Marmont hastily faced about, repassed the Tormes, and resumed his former ground.

Wellington, unwilling to stir before the forts fell, here again refused an accidental advantage; for it is not easy to see how the French could have avoided a defeat if he had moved with all the troops on the right bank against the French divisions on that side.

The forts were now closely pressed. On the 23rd, the heavy guns being brought back, a battery to breach San Cajetano was armed with four pieces; yet the line of fire being oblique only beat down the parapet and knocked away the palisades. An escalade of that fort and La Merced was tried at ten o’clock, yet failed in half an hour with a loss of one hundred and twenty men and officers; the wounded were brought off next day under truce, and the enemy had all the credit of the fight. General Bowes, whose rank might have excused his leading so small a force, being wounded early in this assault, was having his hurt dressed when he heard the troops were yielding, whereupon he returned to the fight and fell.

Want of powder now suspended the siege until the 26th, when a convoy arrived. Then the second and third batteries were re-armed, and the field-pieces replaced on the neighbouring convent. The iron howitzers, throwing hot shot, soon set the convent within San Vincente on fire; but the garrison extinguished the flames and this balanced combat continued during the night. In the morning the besiegers’ fire was redoubled, the convent was in a blaze, the breach of Cajetano improved, and a fresh storming party was assembled, when the white flag waved from Cajetano. Negotiation ensued, but Wellington, judging it an artifice to gain time, ordered a double assault, to oppose which Cajetano scarcely fired a shot, and the flames raged so at Vincente no opposition could be made. Seven hundred prisoners, thirty pieces of artillery, provisions, arms, clothing, and a secure passage over the Tormes, were the immediate fruits of this capture: not the less prized that the breaches were found more formidable than those at Rodrigo, and a storm would have been very doubtful if the garrison could have gained time to extinguish the flames in San Vincente. The allies had ninety killed, and their whole loss was five hundred men and officers, of which one hundred and sixty men with fifty horses fell outside Salamanca, the rest in the siege.

Combats between the Duero and the Tormes. (July, 1812.)

When the forts were taken Marmont retreated. Wellington pursued by easy marches, and on the 2nd of July inflicted a slight loss on the rear-guard at the bridge of Tordesillas; it would have been a great one if he had not been deceived by a false report that the French had broken the bridge the night before.

Marmont then took the line of the Duero, having fortified posts at Zamora and Toro, and broken the bridges there and at Puente Duero and Tudela also, preserving only that of Tordesillas. His left was at Simancas on the Pisuerga, which was unfordable, and the bridges at that place and Valladolid were commanded by fortified posts. His centre was at Tordesillas and very numerous; his right on heights opposite the ford of Pollos, which Wellington seized instantly as it gave him a passage, though a difficult one and unfit for a large force. Head-quarters were then fixed at Rueda, and the army disposed with a head against the ford of Pollos and bridge of Tordesillas, the rear on the Zapardiel and Trabancos rivers to meet any outbreak from the Valladolid side. Marmont’s line of defence, measured from Valladolid to Zamora, was sixty miles; from Simancas to Toro above thirty; but the actual occupation was not above twelve; the bend of the river gave him the chord, the allies the arc, and the fords were few and difficult.

It was Wellington’s design to force Marmont by the co-operation of the Gallician and other Spanish forces to live on his fixed magazines; CastaÑos however, like all Spanish generals, failed in the hour of need. Marmont had then the means of rendering the campaign futile if not disastrous to the British general, but with a false judgment threw away his actual advantages by striving to better them. Bonet’s recall from the Asturias was a great error. Napoleon and Wellington had alike foreseen the importance of holding that province; the one ordered, the other calculated on its retention, and their judgment was now vindicated. The Gallicians and Asturians immediately moved by the coast towards Biscay, where the maritime expedition from CoruÑa, a large one under Sir Home Popham, had descended on several points; Caffarelli therefore retained the reinforcement destined for Marmont, and that marshal, by gaining six thousand men under Bonet, lost twelve or thirteen thousand of the army of the north, and opened all the northern provinces to the Spaniards.

In this state of affairs neither Wellington nor Marmont had reason to fight on the Duero. The latter because his position was so strong he could safely wait for Bonet’s and Caffarelli’s troops, while the king operated against the allies’ communications. The former because he could not attack the French, except at great disadvantage; for the fords of the Duero were little known, and that of Pollos very deep. To pass the river there and form within gunshot of the enemy’s left, without other combinations, promised nothing but defeat, for the strength of ground was with the French. While they had the bridge at Tordesillas, an attempt to force a passage would have enabled Marmont to fall on the front and rear, if the operation was within his reach; if beyond his reach, that is to say, near Zamora, he could cut the communication with Rodrigo and yet preserve his own with Caffarelli and the king. Wellington therefore resolved to wait until the fords should become lower, or the Gallicians and Partidas should be persuaded to act, and thus force the French to detach men or dislodge for want of provisions.

D’Urban’s Portuguese cavalry, which was on the French side of the river, now incommoded Marmont’s right, and Foy marched to drive them off; General Pakenham, commanding the third division, immediately crossed the ford of Pollos, which brought Foy back, and Marmont then augmented the efficiency of his cavalry by taking a thousand horses from the infantry officers and sutlers.

On the 8th Bonet arrived, and the French marshal, extending his right to Toro, commenced repairing the bridge there. Wellington, in like manner, stretched his left to the Guarena, keeping his centre still on the Trabancos and his right at Rueda, with posts near Tordesillas and the ford of Pollos. In this situation the armies remained for some days, during which Graham and Picton went to England in bad health, and the principal powder magazine at Salamanca exploded with hurt to many. No other events worth recording occurred. The weather was fine, the country rich, the troops received their rations regularly, and wine was so plentiful it was hard to keep the soldiers sober; the caves of Rueda, natural or cut in the rock below the surface of the earth, were so immense, and held so much wine, that the drunkards of two armies failed to make any very sensible diminution in the quantity, and many men perished in that labyrinth. The soldiers of each army also, passing the Duero in groups, held amicable intercourse, conversing of battles that were yet to be fought, and the camps on the banks of the Duero seemed at times to belong to one general, so difficult is it to make brave men hate each other.

To the officers of the allies all looked prosperous, they were impatient for the signal of battle, and many complained that the French had been permitted to retreat from Christoval; had Wellington been finally forced back to Portugal, his reputation would have been grievously assailed by his own people. The majority, peering forward with misty political vision, overlooked the difficulties close at hand, but their general was fretted with care and mortification, for all cross and evil circumstances seemed to combine against him. The Spanish coÖperation had failed in all quarters, the enemy in front was growing stronger, Soult was seriously menacing Cadiz, and the king was said to have been joined by Drouet; the Portuguese troops were deserting in great numbers from misery; the English government had absurdly and perniciously interfered with the supply of the military chest; there was no money and the personal resources of Wellington alone kept the army in its forward position. “I have never,” said he, “been in such distress as at present, and some serious misfortune must happen if the government do not attend seriously to the subject and supply us regularly with money. The arrears and distresses of the Portuguese government are a joke to ours, and if our credit was not better than theirs we should certainly starve. As it is, if we don’t find means to pay our bills for butcher’s meat there will be an end to the war at once.”

Thus stript as it were to the skin, he was going once more to hide his nakedness in the mountains of Portugal, when Marmont, proud of his own unripened skill, and perhaps, from the experience of San Christoval, undervaluing his adversary’s tactics; desirous also, it was said, to gain a victory without the presence of a king; Marmont, pushed on by fate, madly broke the chain which restrained his enemy’s strength.

To understand the remarkable movements which were now about to commence, it must be borne in mind that the French army, while the harvest was on the ground, had no regard to lines of communication; it had supports on all sides, and the troops were taught to reap the standing corn, and grind it themselves if their cavalry could not seize flour in the villages. This organization, approaching the ancient Roman military perfection, baffled the irregular, and threw the regular force of the allies entirely upon the defensive; their flanks once turned a retreat must follow to save the communications; but the French offered no point for retaliation. Wherefore, with a force composed of four different nations, Wellington was to make difficult evolutions in an open country, his only chances of success being the casual errors of his adversary, an able general, who knew the country perfectly and had troops well disciplined, and of one nation. The game would have been quite unequal if the English had not been so strong in cavalry.

In the course of the 15th and 16th Marmont, who had previously made deceptive movements, concentrated his beautiful and gallant army on its right towards Toro, which place, intercepted letters, reports of deserters and the talk of the peasants, had for several days assigned as his point of passage. On the morning of the 16th English exploring officers, passing the Duero near Tordesillas, found only the garrison there, and in the evening the reports stated, that two French divisions had already crossed by the bridge of Toro; wherefore Wellington united his centre and left at Canizal, on the Guarena, during the night, intending to attack; but as he had still some doubts of the real object, he left Sir Stapleton Cotton on the Trabancos with the right wing, composed of the fourth and light divisions and Anson’s cavalry. Suddenly Marmont recalled his troops, returned to Tordesillas and Pollos, passed the Duero and concentrated at Nava del Rey in the evening of the 17th, some of his men having marched forty, some fifty miles without a halt. Wellington was then near Toro, and Cotton remained behind the Trabancos during the night without orders, in a bad position; Wellington however hastened to his aid, bringing up Bock’s, Le Marchant’s, and Alten’s cavalry, while the fifth division took post six miles in rear of the Trabancos.

Combats of Castrejon and the Guarena. (July, 1812.)

At daybreak Cotton’s outposts were driven in, yet the bulk of his cavalry and a troop of horse artillery showed a front, having the two infantry divisions in support; the fourth behind his left, the light division behind his right, but widely separated by a valley. The country was open, like the downs of England, with here and there water-gullies, dry hollows and naked heads of land, behind one of which, on the other side of the Trabancos, lay the French army. Cotton, seeing only horsemen, pushed his cavalry towards the river, advancing cautiously by his right along some high table-land, where his troops were lost at first in the morning fog, then thick on the stream. Very soon the deep tones of artillery shook the ground, the sharp ring of musketry was heard in the mist, and the 43rd Regiment was hastily brought through the village of Castrejon to support the advancing cavalry; for besides the deep valley separating the fourth from the light division, there was a ravine with a marshy bottom between the cavalry and infantry, and the village furnished the only good passage.

The cannonade became heavy, and the spectacle surprisingly beautiful. The lighter smoke and mist, mingling and curling in fantastic pillars, formed a huge and glittering dome tinged with many colours by the rising sun, and through the gross vapour below the restless horsemen were seen or lost, as the fume thickened from the rapid play of the artillery; the bluff head of land beyond the Trabancos, now covered with French troops, appeared by an optical deception close at hand, dilated to the size of a mountain, and crowned with gigantic soldiers, who were continually breaking off and sliding down into the fight. Suddenly a dismounted English cavalry officer stalked from the midst of the smoke towards the line of infantry; his gait was peculiarly rigid, and he appeared to hold a bloody handkerchief to his heart; but that which seemed a cloth was a broad and dreadful wound: a bullet had entirely effaced the flesh from his left shoulder and breast and carried away part of his ribs, his heart was bared and its movement plainly discerned. It was a piteous and yet a noble sight, for his countenance though ghastly was firm, his step scarcely indicated weakness, and his voice never faltered. This unyielding man’s name was Williams. He died a short distance from the field of battle, it was said in the arms of his son, a youth of fourteen, who had followed his father to the Peninsula in hopes of obtaining a commission, for they were not in affluent circumstances.

Cotton maintained this exposed position until seven o’clock, when Wellington and Beresford came up, and both were like to have been slain together. For a squadron of French cavalry, breaking away from the head of land beyond the Trabancos, had just before come with such speed across the valley that it was for a moment thought they were deserting; but with headlong course they mounted the table-land on which Cotton’s left wing was posted, and drove a whole line of British cavalry skirmishers back in confusion. The reserves then came up from Alaejos, and these furious swordmen, scattered in all directions, were in turn driven away or cut down; yet thirty or forty, led by their gallant officer, suddenly appeared above the ravine separating the British wings, just as Wellington and Beresford arrived on the slope beneath them. Some infantry picquets were in the bottom, higher up were two guns covered by a squadron of light cavalry disposed in perfect order, and when the French officer saw this squadron he reined in his horse with difficulty, his men gathering in a confused body round him; they seemed lost, but their daring leader waving his sword soused down with a shout on the English troopers, who turning, galloped through the guns, and the whole mass, friends and enemies, went like a whirlwind to the bottom, carrying away in the tumult Wellington and Beresford. The French horsemen were now quite exhausted and a reserve of heavy dragoons cut most of them to pieces; yet their invincible leader, assaulted by three enemies at once, struck one dead from his horse, and with surprising exertions saved himself from the others, though they rode hewing at him on each side for a quarter of a mile.

Scarcely was this over when Marmont, having ascertained that a part only of Wellington’s army was before him, crossed the Trabancos in two columns, and penetrating between the light and fourth divisions marched straight upon the Guarena. The British retired in three columns, the light division being between the fifth division and the French, close to the latter, the cavalry on the flanks and rear. The air was extremely sultry, the dust rose in clouds, and the close order of the troops was rendered very oppressive by a siroc wind; but where the light division marched the military spectacle was strange and grand. Hostile columns of infantry, only half musket-shot from each other, were marching impetuously towards a common goal, the officers on each side pointing forwards with their swords, or touching their caps and waving their hands in courtesy, while the German cavalry, huge men, on huge horses, rode between in a close compact body as if to prevent a collision: at times the loud tones of command to hasten the march were heard passing from the front to the rear on both sides, and now and then the rush of French bullets came sweeping over the columns, whose violent pace was continually accelerated.

Thus moving for ten miles, yet keeping the most perfect order, both parties approached the Guarena, and the enemy seeing the light division, although more in their power than the others, was yet outstripping them in the march, increased the fire of their guns and menaced an attack with infantry: the German cavalry instantly drew close round, the column plunged suddenly into a hollow dip of ground on the left, and ten minutes after the head of the division was in the stream of the Guarena between Osmo and Castrillo. The fifth division entered it at the same time higher up on the left, and the fourth division passed on the right. The soldiers of the light division, tormented with thirst yet long used to their enemy’s mode of warfare, drunk as they marched; those of the fifth division, less experienced, stopped a few moments, and on the instant forty French guns gathering on the heights above sent a tempest of bullets amongst them. So nicely timed was the operation.

The Guarena, flowing from four distinct sources which united below Castrillo, offered a very strong line of defence; yet Marmont, hoping to carry it in the first confusion, brought up all his artillery and pushed the head of his right column over an upper branch. Wellington, expecting this, had previously ordered up the other divisions of his army, and they were in line before Marmont’s infantry, oppressed with heat and long marches, could gather strength to attempt the passage of the other branch. Carier’s brigade of cavalry first crossed, and was followed by a column of infantry, just as the fourth division had gained the table-land above. Carier’s horsemen entered the valley on the left, the infantry in one column menaced the front, but the sedgy banks of the stream would have been difficult to force, if Victor Alten, slow to perceive an advantage, had not suffered the French cavalry to cross first in considerable numbers without opposition. Then he assailed them by successive squadrons instead of regiments, and when the 14th and German Hussars were hard-pressed, brought up the 3rd Dragoons, who were however driven back by the fire of the infantry, and many fell. Finally Carier being wounded and taken, the French retired, and meanwhile the 27th and 40th Regiments, coming down the hill, broke the enemy’s infantry with an impetuous bayonet charge: Alten’s horsemen then sabred some of the fugitives.

Marmont lost a general and five hundred soldiers by this combat, but, though baffled at one point, and beaten at another, he concentrated his army and held both banks of the branch he had gained. Wellington also concentrated, and as the previous operations had only cost him six hundred men and the French but eight hundred, the day being still young, the positions open and within cannon-shot, a battle was expected. Marmont’s troops had however been marching for two days and nights, and Wellington’s plan did not admit of fighting unless in defence, or with such advantage as that he could crush his opponent and keep the field afterwards against the king.

The French marshal had passed a great river, surprised the allies’ right, and pushed it back above ten miles: he had nevertheless failed as a general. His aim had been, by menacing the communication between Salamanca and Rodrigo, to draw the allies back; yet on the evening of the 16th, having passed the Duero at Toro, he was nearer to Salamanca than they were, and, persisting, Wellington must have fought him at disadvantage, or passed the Tormes at Huerta to regain the road of Rodrigo. Marmont however relinquished this stroke to march eighty miles in forty-eight hours, and after many nice evolutions, in which he lost a thousand men by the sword and fatigue, found his adversary on the 18th facing him in the very position he had turned on the evening of the 16th!

On the 19th the armies were quiet until evening, when the French were suddenly concentrated in one mass on their left. Wellington made a corresponding movement on the tableland above, which caused the light division to overlook the enemy’s main body, then at rest round the bivouac fires; it would have remained so if Sir Stapleton Cotton coming up had not turned a battery upon a group of French officers. At the first shot they seemed surprised—for it was a discourteous and ill-considered act—at the second their gunners run to their pieces, and a reply from twelve heavier guns wounded an artillery-officer, killed several British soldiers, swept away a whole section of Portuguese, and compelled the division to withdraw in a mortifying manner to avoid unnecessary blood-spilling.

Wellington now expected a battle, because the heights he occupied trended backwards to the Tormes on the shortest line, and as he had thrown a Spanish garrison into the castle of Alba de Tormes he thought the French could not turn his right; if they attempted it, he could shoulder them off the Tormes at the ford of Huerta. At daybreak however, instead of crossing the Guarena in front to dispute the high land, Marmont marched rapidly up the river and crossed the stream, though the banks were difficult, before any disposition could be made to oppose him. He thus turned the right and gained a new range of hills trending also towards the Tormes, and parallel to those which Wellington possessed. Then commenced a scene similar to that of the 18th but on a greater scale. The allies moving in two lines of battle within musket-shot of the French endeavoured to cross their march, the guns on both sides exchanged rough salutations as the accidents of ground favoured their play, and the officers, like gallant gentlemen who bore no malice and knew no fear, made their military recognitions, while the horsemen on each side watched with eager eyes for an opening to charge: but the French, moving as one man along the crest of the heights, preserved the lead and made no mistake.

Soon it became evident that the allies would be outflanked, wherefore Wellington, falling off a little, made towards the heights occupied by Marmont during the siege of the forts, intending to halt there while an advanced guard, forcing a march, secured the position and fords of Christoval. But he made no effort to seize the ford of Huerta, for his own march had been long, the French had passed over nearly twice as much ground, and he thought they could not reach the Tormes that day. When night approached he discovered his error. His second line had indeed got the heights of Vellosa, but his first line was heaped up in low ground near the French army, whose fires, crowning all the opposite hills, showed they commanded the ford of Huerta. Wellington then ordered the bivouac fires to be made with much smoke, under cover of which he filed the troops off with great celerity towards Vellosa; but the Portuguese cavalry, coming in from the front, were mistaken for French and lost some men by cannon-shot ere they were recognised.

Very much disquieted by this day’s operations was the English leader. Marmont, perfectly acquainted with the country, had outflanked and outmarched him, and gained the command of the Tormes, thus securing his junction with the king’s army, and enabled to fight or wait for reinforcements, while the scope of the allies’ operations would hourly become more restricted. Meanwhile Caffarelli having finally detached eighteen hundred cavalry with guns to aid Marmont, they were coming on, and the king also was taking the field; hence though a victory should be won, unless it was decisive, Wellington’s object would not be advanced. That object was to deliver the Peninsula by a course of solid operations, incompatible with sudden and rash strokes unauthorized by anything but hope; wherefore, yielding to circumstances, he resolved to retreat on Portugal and abide his time; yet with a bitter spirit, nothing soothed by the recollection that he had refused to fight at advantage exactly one month before upon the very hills he now occupied. Nevertheless that steadfast temper which then prevented him from seizing an adventitious chance would not now let him yield to fortune more than she could ravish from him: he still hoped to give the lion’s stroke, and resolved to cover Salamanca and the communication with Ciudad Rodrigo to the last moment. The uncertainty of war was now shown. This inability to hold his ground was made known to CastaÑos by a letter, which Marmont intercepted, and immediately decided to push on without waiting for the king, who afterwards announced this accident as a subtle stroke by Wellington to draw on a premature battle!

On the 21st, the allies being on San Christoval, the French threw a garrison into Alba de Tormes, from whence the Spaniards had been withdrawn by Carlos EspaÑa, without the knowledge of the English general. Marmont then passed the Tormes by the fords, between Alba and Huerta, and moving up the valley of the Machechuco encamped at the outer edge of a forest. Wellington also passed the Tormes in the evening by the bridge of Salamanca and the fords of Santa Marta and Aldea Lengua; but the third division and D’Urban’s cavalry remaining on the right bank, intrenched themselves, lest the French, who had left a division on the heights of Babila Fuente, should recross the Tonnes in the night and overwhelm them.

When the light division descended the rough side of the Aldea Lengua mountain to cross the river night had come down suddenly, and with more than common darkness, for a storm, that usual precursor of a battle in the Peninsula, was at hand. Torrents of rain deepened the ford, the water foamed and dashed with increasing violence, the thunder was frequent and deafening, and the lightning passed in sheets of fire close over the column, playing upon the points of the bayonets. One flash falling amongst the cavalry near Santa Marta killed many men and horses, while hundreds of frightened animals, breaking loose and galloping wildly about, were supposed to be the enemy charging in the darkness, and some of their patrols were indeed at hand, hovering like birds of prey: but nothing could disturb the beautiful order in which the serene veterans of the light division were seen by the fiery gleams to pass the foaming river, pursuing their march amidst this astounding turmoil, alike regardless of the storm and the enemy.

The position now taken was nearly the same as that occupied by General Graham a month before, when the forts of Salamanca were invested. The left wing rested in low ground on the Tormes, having a cavalry post in front. The right wing was extended on a range of heights, which ended also in low ground, near the village of Arapiles: this line, perpendicular to the Tormes from Huerta to Salamanca, was parallel to it from Alba to Huerta, and covered Salamanca. Meanwhile the enemy, extending his left along the edge of the forest, menaced the line of communication with Rodrigo; and in the night advice came that General Chauvel, bringing up Caffarelli’s horsemen and twenty guns, had reached Pollos the 20th, and would join Marmont the 22nd or 23rd. Hence Wellington, feeling he must now retreat to Rodrigo, and fearing the French cavalry thus reinforced would hamper his movements, determined, unless they attacked him or committed some flagrant fault, to retire before Chauvel’s horsemen could arrive.

At daybreak on the 22nd, Marmont called the troops at Babila Fuente over the Tormes, brought Bonet’s and Maucune’s divisions out of the forest, and took possession of the ridge of Calvariza Ariba; he also occupied in advance of it on his right, a wooded height on which was an old chapel called Nuestra SeÑora de la Pena. But at a little distance from his left and from the English right, stood a pair of solitary hills, called indifferently the Arapiles or the Hermanitos. Steep and savagely rugged, about half cannon-shot from each other, their possession would have enabled Marmont to cross Wellington’s right, and force a battle with every advantage. Nevertheless they were neglected by the English at first, until Colonel Waters, having observed an enemy’s detachment stealing towards them, informed Beresford, who thought it of no consequence, but Waters then rode to Wellington who immediately sent troops to seize them. A combat similar to that which happened between CÆsar and Afranius at Lerida now ensued; for the French, seeing this detachment, broke their own ranks and running to the encounter gained the first Arapiles and kept it, yet were repulsed in an endeavour to seize the second. This skirmish was followed by one at Nuestra SeÑora de la Pena, half of which was gained, the enemy keeping the other half: Victor Alten, aiding the attack with a squadron of German hussars, was there wounded by a musket-shot.

The loss of the distant Arapiles rendered a retreat difficult to the allies during daylight; for though the one gained was a fortress in the way of the French army, Marmont, by extending his left and gathering a force behind his own rock, could frame a dangerous battle during the movement. Wellington therefore extended his troops on the right of his own Hermanito, placing the light companies of the Guards at the village of Arapiles in low ground, and the fourth division, with exception of the 27th Regiment, on a gentle ridge behind them. The fifth and sixth divisions he gathered in one mass upon the internal slope of the English Hermanito, where the ground being hollow, hid them from the enemy. During these movements a sharp cannonade was exchanged from the tops of those frowning hills, on whose crowning rocks the two generals sat like ravenous vultures watching for their quarry.

Marmont’s project was not yet developed. His troops from Babila Fuente were still in the forest some miles off, and he had only two divisions close up. The occupation of Calvariza Ariba and Nuestra SeÑora de la Pena might be therefore only a daring defensive measure to cover the formation of his army; but the occupation of the Hermanito was a start forward for an advantage to be afterwards turned to profit, and seemed to fix the operations on the left of the Tormes. In this doubt Wellington brought up the first and light divisions to confront the French on Calvariza Ariba, and calling the third division and D’Urban’s cavalry over the river, posted them in a wood near Aldea Tejada, entirely refused to the enemy and unseen by him, yet securing the main road to Rodrigo. Thus the position was suddenly reversed. The left now rested on the English Hermanito, the right on Aldea Tejada; that which was the rear became the front, the interval between the third and fourth divisions being occupied by Bradford’s Portuguese infantry, a Spanish division, and the British cavalry.

Breaks and hollows so screened the men that few could be seen by the French, and those seemed pointing to the Rodrigo road in retreat; moreover, the commissariat and baggage had been ordered to the rear and the dust of their march was seen many miles off: nothing indicated an approaching battle. Such a state of affairs could not last long. At twelve o’clock Marmont, thinking the important bearing of his Hermanito on Wellington’s retreat would induce the latter to drive him thence, brought up Foy’s and Ferey’s divisions in support, placing the first, with some guns, on a wooded height between the Hermanito and Nuestra SeÑora de la Pena; the second, with Boyer’s dragoons, on a ridge behind Foy. Nor was this ill-timed, for Wellington, thinking he could not insure a safe retreat in daylight, was going to attack, but on the approach of these troops gave counter-orders lest he should bring on a general battle disadvantageously.

The French from Babila Fuente had not then reached the edge of the forest, yet Marmont resolved to fight, and fearing the allies would retreat before his own dispositions were completed, ordered ThomiÈres’ division, covered by fifty guns and supported by the light cavalry, to make a flank movement by its left and menace the Rodrigo road. Then hastening the march of his other divisions, he watched when Wellington should move in opposition to ThomiÈres, designing to fall upon him by the village with six divisions of infantry and Boyer’s dragoons, which he now ordered to take fresh ground on the left of the Hermanito rock, leaving only one regiment of cavalry with Foy.

In these new circumstances the two armies embraced an oval basin, formed by different ranges of hills that rose like an amphitheatre, the Arapiles rocks appearing like the doorposts. Around this basin, which was more than a mile from north to south and more than two miles from east to west, the hostile forces were grouped. The northern and western half formed the allies’ position; the eastern heights were held by the French right; their left, consisting of ThomiÈres’ division, the artillery and light cavalry, moved along the southern side of the basin, but with a wide loose march; for there was a long space between ThomiÈres’ division and those in the forest destined to form the centre; a longer space between him and the divisions about the French Hermanito. The artillery, fifty guns, massed on ThomiÈres’ right flank, opened its fire grandly, taking ground to the left by guns in succession as the infantry moved on; and these last marched eagerly, continually contracting their distance from the allies and bringing up their left shoulders as if to envelope Wellington’s position and embrace it with fire. At this time also, Bonet’s troops, one regiment of which held the French Arapiles, carried the village of that name, and although soon driven from the greatest part of it again maintained a fierce struggle.

Marmont’s first arrangements had occupied several hours, but as they gave no positive indication of his designs, Wellington, ceasing to watch them, had retired from his Hermanito; but when he was told the French left was in motion pointing towards the Ciudad Rodrigo road, he returned to the rock and observed their movements for some time with a stern contentment. Their left wing was entirely separated from the centre, the fault was flagrant, and he fixed it with the stroke of a thunderbolt. A few orders issued from his lips like the incantations of a wizard, and suddenly the dark mass of troops which covered the English Hermanito, as if possessed by some mighty spirit, rushed violently down the interior slope of the mountain and entered the great basin, amidst a storm of bullets which seemed to shear away the whole surface of the earth over which they moved. The fifth division instantly formed on the right of the fourth, connecting the latter with Bradford’s Portuguese, who hastened forward at the same time from the right of the army, and then the heavy cavalry, galloping up on the right of Bradford, closed this front of battle. The sixth and seventh divisions, flanked on the right by Anson’s light cavalry, were ranged at half cannon shot on a second line, which was prolonged by the Spaniards in the direction of the third division; and this last, reinforced by two squadrons of the 14th Dragoons, and D’Urban’s Portuguese horsemen, formed the extreme right of the army. Behind all, on the highest ground, the first and light divisions and Pack’s Portuguese were disposed in heavy masses as a reserve.

When this grand disposition was completed, the third division and its attendant horsemen, formed in four columns and flanked on the left by twelve guns, received orders to cross ThomiÈres’ line of march. The remainder of the first line, including the main body of the cavalry, was to advance when the attack of the third division should be developed; and as the fourth division must in this forward movement necessarily lend its flank to the enemy’s troops stationed on the French Hermanito, Pack was to assail that rock the moment the left of the British line passed it. Thus, after long coiling and winding, the armies came together, and drawing up their huge trains like angry serpents mingled in deadly strife.

Battle of Salamanca. (July, 1812.)

Marmont from his Hermanito saw the country beneath him suddenly covered with enemies at a moment when he was in the act of making a complicated evolution, and when, by the rash advance of his left, his troops were separated into three parts too dispersed to assist each other, those nearest the enemy being neither strong enough to hold their ground nor aware of what they had to encounter. The third division was however still hidden by the western heights, and he hoped the tempest of bullets in the basin beneath would check the British line until he could bring up his other divisions and by the village of Arapiles fall on what was now the left of the allies’ position. But even this his only resource for saving the battle was weak, for there were in reserve the first and light divisions and Pack’s Portuguese, in all twelve thousand troops, with thirty pieces of artillery; the village was also well disputed, and the English rock stood out as a strong bastion of defence. However, nothing daunted, Marmont despatched officer after officer, some to hasten the troops from the forest, others to stop the progress of his left wing; and with a sanguine expectation he still looked for victory, until Pakenham shot with the third division like a meteor across ThomiÈres’ path; then pride and hope alike died within him, and desperately he was hurrying in person to that fatal point, when an exploding shell stretched him on the earth with a broken arm and two deep wounds in his side. Confusion ensued, and the troops, distracted by ill-judged orders and counter-orders, knew not where to move, whom to fight, or whom to avoid.

It was five o’clock when Pakenham fell upon ThomiÈres; and it was at a moment when that general, whose column had gained an open isolated hill, expected to see the allies in full retreat towards the Rodrigo road, closely followed by Marmont from the Arapiles. The counter-stroke was terrible! Two batteries of artillery, placed on the summit of the western heights, suddenly took his troops in flank, Pakenham’s massive columns, supported by cavalry, were in his front, and two-thirds of his own division, lengthened out and unconnected, were still in a wood, where they could hear but could not see the storm now bursting; from the chief to the lowest soldier all felt they were lost, and in an instant Pakenham, the most frank and gallant of men, commenced the battle.

As the British masses came on, forming lines while in march, the French gunners, standing up manfully, sent out showers of grape, and a crowd of light troops poured in a fire of musketry, under cover of which the main body endeavoured to display a front. But bearing onwards through the skirmishers with the might of a giant Pakenham broke the half-formed lines into fragments, and sent the whole in confusion upon the advancing supports; one only officer remained by the artillery; standing alone he fired the last gun at the distance of a few yards, but whether he lived or there died could not be seen for the smoke. Some squadrons of light cavalry fell on the right of the third division; the 5th Regiment repulsed them, and then D’Urban’s Portuguese horsemen, reinforced by two squadrons of the 14th Dragoons under Felton Harvey, gained the enemy’s flank, while the Oporto regiment, led by the English Major Watson, charged his infantry, but Watson fell deeply wounded and his men retired.

Pakenham continued his tempestuous course against the remainder of ThomiÈres’ troops, which were now arrayed on the wooded heights behind the first hill, yet imperfectly and offering two fronts; the one opposed to the third division and its attendant horsemen, the other to the fifth division, Bradford’s brigade, and the main body of cavalry and artillery, all of which were now moving in one great line across the basin. Meanwhile Bonet, repulsed from the village of Arapiles, was sharply engaged outside with the fourth division, Maucune kept a menacing position behind the French Hermanito, Clausel’s division came up from the forest, and the connection of the centre and left was in some measure restored: two divisions were however yet in the rear, and Boyer’s dragoons were still in march. ThomiÈres had been killed, Bonet succeeding Marmont was disabled, hence more confusion; but the command then devolved on Clausel, and he was of a capacity to sustain this terrible crisis, which may be thus described. The fourth and fifth divisions and Bradford’s brigade, hotly engaged, were steadily gaining ground on the English left; the heavy cavalry, Anson’s light dragoons, and Bull’s troop of artillery were next in line, advancing at a trot on Pakenham’s left, and on that general’s right D’Urban’s horsemen overlapped the enemy. Thus in less than half an hour, and before an order of battle had even been formed by the French, their commander-in-chief and two other generals had fallen, and the left of their army was turned, thrown into confusion and enveloped.

Clausel’s division had now joined ThomiÈres’, and a new front had been spread on the southern heights, yet loosely and unfit to resist; for the troops were, some in double lines, some in columns, some in squares, a powerful sun struck on their eyes, and the light soil, stirred up and driven forward by a breeze, which arose in the west at the moment of attack, came mingled with smoke full upon them in such stifling volumes, that scarcely able to breathe and quite unable to see their fire was given at random. In this situation, while Pakenham, bearing onward with conquering violence was closing on their flank, and the fifth division advancing with a storm of fire on their front, the interval between the two attacks was suddenly filled with a whirling cloud of dust, moving swiftly forward and carrying within its womb the trampling sound of a charging multitude. As it passed the left of the third division, Le Marchant’s heavy horsemen, flanked by Anson’s light cavalry, broke out at full speed, and the next instant twelve hundred French infantry, formed in several lines, were trampled down with a terrible clangour and tumult. Bewildered and blinded they cast away their arms and run through the openings of the British squadrons, stooping and demanding quarter, while the dragoons, big men on big horses, rode onward, smiting with their long glittering swords in uncontrollable power, and the third division, following at speed, shouted as the French masses fell in succession before this dreadful charge.

Nor were these valiant swordsmen yet exhausted. Le Marchant and many officers had fallen, but Cotton and all his staff were still at their head, and with ranks confused and blended in one mass, still galloping forward, they sustained from a fresh column an irregular stream of fire which emptied a hundred saddles; yet with fine courage and downright force, the survivors broke through this the third and strongest body of men that had encountered them, and Lord Edward Somerset, continuing his course at the head of one squadron with a happy perseverance, captured five guns. The French left was thus entirely broken, more than two thousand prisoners were taken, their light horsemen abandoned that part of the field, and ThomiÈres’ division no longer existed as a military body. Anson’s cavalry, which had passed quite over the hill and had suffered little in the charge, was now joined by D’Urban’s troopers and took the place of Le Marchant’s exhausted men; the heavy German dragoons followed in reserve, forming with the third and fifth divisions and the guns one formidable line, two miles in advance of where Pakenham had first attacked: and that impetuous officer with unmitigated strength still pressed forward spreading terror and disorder on the enemy’s left.

But while these signal events, which occupied about forty minutes, were passing on the allies’ right, a terrible battle raged in the centre. For when the first shock of the third division had been observed, the fourth division, moving in a line with the fifth, had passed the village of Arapiles under a prodigious cannonade, and vigorously driving Bonet’s troops step by step to the southern and eastern heights, had compelled them to mingle with the broken remains of Clausel’s and ThomiÈres’ divisions. This combat having opened the French Hermanito about the time of the cavalry charge, enabled Pack’s Portuguese to assail that rock, and the front of battle was thus completely defined, for Foy’s division was then exchanging a distant cannonade with the first and light divisions. However Bonet’s troops, notwithstanding Marmont’s fall and the loss of their own general, fought strongly, and Clausel made a surprisingly vigorous effort and beyond all men’s expectations to restore the battle. Soon a great change was visible. Ferey’s division, drawn off from the height of Calvaraza, arrived in the centre behind Bonet’s men; the light cavalry, Boyer’s dragoons, and two divisions of infantry from the forest, were also united there; and on this mass of fresh men Clausel rallied the remnants of his own and ThomiÈres’ division. Thus Sarrut’s, Brennier’s and Ferey’s unbroken divisions, supported by all the cavalry, were suddenly massed to cover the line of retreat on Alba de Tormes, while Maucune still held the French Hermanito, having Foy on his right.

But Clausel, not content with having thus got the army together in a condition to effect a retreat, attempted to turn the tide of victory, founding hope on a misfortune which had befallen Pack. For that officer, ascending the French Hermanito in one heavy column, was within thirty yards of the summit, believing himself victorious, when the enemy leaped suddenly forward from the rocks upon his front and upon his left flank; the hostile masses closed, there was a thick cloud of smoke, a shout, a stream of fire, and the side of the hill was covered with the dead, the wounded and flying Portuguese. They were unjustly scoffed at for this failure, no troops could have withstood that crash upon such steep ground, and the propriety of attacking the hill at all seems questionable. The result went nigh to shake the whole battle. For the fourth division had just then reached the southern ridge of the basin, and one regiment had actually gained the summit when twelve hundred French, arrayed on the reverse slope, charged up hill when the British were quite breathless and disordered by the previous fighting; the French came up resolutely and without a shot won the crest, and even pursued down the other side until two supporting regiments below checked them.

This counter-blow took place at the moment of Pack’s defeat, and then Maucune, no longer in pain for the Hermanito, menaced the left flank and rear of the fourth division with skirmishers, until a wing of the 40th Regiment, wheeling about with a rough charge, cleared the rear. Maucune would not engage more deeply at that time, yet Ferey’s troops pressed vigorously against the front of the fourth division, and Brennier did the same by the first line of the fifth division; Boyer’s dragoons also came on rapidly, and the allies outflanked and overmatched lost ground. Fiercely and fast the French followed, and the fight once more raged in the basin below. General Cole had before this fallen deeply wounded, Leith had the same fortune, but Beresford promptly drew Spry’s Portuguese brigade from the second line of the fifth division, and thus flanked the advancing columns of the enemy: yet he also fell desperately wounded, and Boyer’s dragoons came freely into action, because Anson’s cavalry had been checked, after Le Marchant’s charge, by a heavy fire of artillery.

Now the crisis of battle arrived, victory was for the general who had the strongest reserves in hand, and Wellington, seen that day at every point where and when his presence was most required, brought up the sixth division, and turned the scale by a charge, rough, strong, and successful. Nevertheless the struggle was no slight one. Hulse’s brigade, which was on the left, went down by hundreds, and the 61st and 11th Regiments won their way desperately and through such a fire as British soldiers only can sustain. Some of Boyer’s dragoons also, breaking in between the fifth and sixth divisions, slew many men and caused some disorder in the 53rd; yet that brave regiment lost no ground, nor did Clausel’s impetuous counter-attack avail at any point, after the first burst, against the steady courage of the allies. The southern ridge was thus regained, the French generals Menne and Ferey were wounded, the first severely, the second mortally; Clausel himself was hurt, Boyer’s reserve of dragoons, coming on at a canter, were met and broken by the fire of Hulse’s noble brigade, and the current of the fight once more set for the British. The third division continued to outflank the enemy’s left, Maucune abandoned the Hermanito, Foy retired from Calvariza, and the allied host, righting itself as a gallant ship after a sudden gust, again bore onwards in blood and gloom: for though the air, purified by the storm of the night before, was peculiarly clear, one vast cloud of smoke and dust rolled along the basin, and within it was the battle with all its sights and sounds of terror.

When Wellington had thus restored the fight in the centre, he directed the first division to push between Foy and the rest of the French army, which would have rendered it impossible for the latter to rally or escape; but this order was not executed, and Foy’s and Maucune’s divisions were skilfully used by Clausel to protect his retreat. Foy, posted on undulating ground and flanked by dragoons, covered the roads to the fords of Huerta and Encina; Maucune, reinforced with fifteen guns, was on a steep ridge in front of the forest, covering the road to Alba de Tormes; and behind this ridge, the rest of the army, then falling back in disorder before the third, fifth and sixth divisions, took refuge. Wellington immediately sent the light division in two lines, flanked by dragoons, against Foy, and supported them with the first division in columns, flanked on the right by two brigades of the fourth division, which he drew from the centre when the sixth division had restored the fight. The seventh division and the Spaniards followed in reserve, the country was covered with troops, and a new army seemed to have arisen out of the earth.

Foy, throwing out a cloud of skirmishers, retired by wings, firing heavily from every rise of ground upon the light division, which returned no shot, save by its skirmishers; for three miles this march was under his musketry, occasionally thickened by a cannonade, but the French aim was baffled by the twilight and rapid gliding of the lines. Meanwhile the French general Desgraviers was killed, the flanking brigades from the fourth division penetrated between Maucune and Foy, and it seemed difficult for the latter to extricate his troops. Yet he did so thus. Augmenting his skirmishers on the last defensible ridge, along the foot of which run a marshy stream, he redoubled his musketry and made a menacing demonstration with his horsemen just as the darkness fell; the British guns immediately opened, a squadron of dragoons galloped forwards from the left, the infantry impetuously hastened to the summit of the hill, and a rough shock seemed at hand, but there was no longer an enemy: the main body had gone into the forest on their left during the firing, and the skirmishers fled swiftly after covered by the smoke and coming night.

Maucune was now maintaining a noble battle. He was outflanked and outnumbered, yet the safety of the French army depended on his courage, he knew it, and Pakenham, marking his bold demeanour, advised Clinton, who was immediately in his front, not to assail him until the third division should have turned his left. Nevertheless Clinton plunged his troops into action under great disadvantage; for after remaining some time unnecessarily under Maucune’s batteries, which ploughed heavily through their ranks, they were suddenly directed to attack the hill, and aided by a brigade of the fourth division they rushed up; but in the darkness of the night the fire showed from afar how the battle went. On the English side a sheet of flame was seen, sometimes advancing with an even front, sometimes pricking forth in spear heads, now falling back in waving lines, anon darting upwards in one vast pyramid, the apex of which often approached yet never gained the actual summit of the mountain; but the French musketry, rapid as lightning, sparkled along the brow of the height with unvarying fulness, and with what destructive effects the dark gaps and changing shapes of the adverse fire showed too plainly: meanwhile Pakenham turned the left, Foy glided into the forest, and Maucune’s task being then completed, the effulgent crest of the ridge became black and silent and the whole French army vanished as it were in the darkness.

During this fight Wellington in person made the light division advance towards the ford of Huerta, having the forest on his right; for he thought the Spanish garrison was still in the castle of Alba, and that the enemy must be found at the fords. For this final stroke he had strengthened his left wing; nor was he diverted from it by Foy’s retreat into the forest, because it pointed towards the fords of Encina and Gonzalo, where the right wing of the allies would find him; moreover a squadron of French dragoons, bursting from the forest soon after dark and firing their pistols, had passed at full gallop across the front of the 43rd Regiment towards the ford of Huerta, indicating great confusion in the defeated army, and confirming Wellington’s notion as to the direction: yet the troops were then marching through standing corn, where no enemy could have preceded them!

Had the castle of Alba been held the French could not have carried off a third of their army; nor would they have been in much better plight if Carlos EspaÑa, who soon discovered his error in withdrawing the garrison, had informed Wellington of the fact; but he suppressed it and suffered the colonel who had only obeyed his orders to be censured. The left wing therefore reached the fords without meeting any enemy, and, the night being far spent, was there halted. The right wing, exhausted by long fighting, halted after the action with Maucune, and thus the French gained Alba unmolested; yet the action did not terminate without two remarkable accidents. While riding close behind the 43rd Regiment, Wellington was struck in the thigh by a spent ball which passed through his holster; and in the night Sir Stapleton Cotton, who had gone to the ford of Huerta, was, in returning, shot through the arm by a Portuguese sentinel whose challenge he disregarded. These were the last events of this famous battle in which the English general, to use a French officer’s expression, defeated forty thousand men in forty minutes! Yet he fought it as if his genius disdained such trial of its strength. Late in the evening of that great day I saw him behind my regiment, then marching towards the ford. He was alone, the flush of victory was on his brow, his eyes were eager and watchful, but his voice was calm and even gentle. More than the rival of Marlborough, for he had defeated greater generals than Marlborough ever encountered, he seemed with prescient pride only to accept the victory as an earnest of greater glory.

Combat of La Serna. (July, 1812.)

During the few hours of darkness succeeding the battle of Salamanca, Clausel with a wonderful diligence passed the Tormes at Alba; but Wellington also crossed that river with his left wing at daylight, and moving up stream overtook the French on the Almar rivulet, near the village of La Serna, and launched his cavalry against them. Their squadrons fled from Anson’s troopers, abandoning three battalions of infantry, who in separate columns were making up a hollow slope, hoping to gain the crest of some heights before the pursuing cavalry could fall on, and the two foremost did reach the higher ground and there formed squares; the last, when half-way up, seeing Bock’s heavy German dragoons galloping hard on, faced about and commenced a disorderly fire, and the squares above also plied their muskets on the Germans, who, after crossing the Almar, had to pass a turn of narrow road and clear rough ground before opening a charging front. They dropped fast under the fire. By twos, by threes, by tens, by twenties they fell, yet the mass, surmounting the difficulties of the ground, hurtled on the column and went clean through it: then the squares above retreated and several hundred prisoners were made by those able and daring horsemen.

This charge was successful even to wonder, and the victors standing in the midst of captives and admiring friends seemed invincible; yet those who witnessed the scene, nay the actors themselves remained with the conviction of the military truth,—that cavalry are not able to cope with veteran infantry, save by surprise. The hill of La Serna offered a frightful spectacle of the power of the musket. The track of the Germans was marked by their huge bodies. A few minutes only had the combat lasted, and above a hundred had fallen—fifty-one were killed outright. In several places man and horse had died simultaneously, and so suddenly, that falling together on their sides they appeared still alive, the horse’s legs stretched out as in movement, the rider’s feet in the stirrups, the bridle in hand, the sword raised to strike, and the large hat fastened under the chin, giving to the grim yet undistorted countenance a supernatural and terrible expression.

When the French found their rear-guard attacked they turned to its succour, but seeing the light division coming up recommenced the retreat, and were soon joined by Caffarelli’s horsemen and guns, under General Chauvel: too late they joined for the battle, yet covered the retreat with a resolution that deterred the allied cavalry from meddling with them. Clausel then carried his army off with such celerity that his head-quarters were that night forty miles from the field of battle.

King Joseph was at this time at Blasco Sancho, one short march from the beaten army: he came to aid Marmont with fourteen thousand men, and so early as the 24th could easily have effected a junction, but he then knew only of Marmont’s advance from the Duero, not of his defeat. Next day he received, from that marshal and Clausel, letters describing the battle and saying the army must go over the Duero to establish new communications with the Army of the North. A junction with them was still possible, but the king retreated in haste, leaving behind two officers and twenty-seven horsemen, who were next day attacked and captured by seven troopers of the 14th Dragoons led by Corporal Hanley,25 a noble soldier, thus described by an officer under whom he had many times charged. “A finer fellow never rode into the field. His feats, besides the one at Blasco Sancho, were extraordinary. He was a very handsome man, rode magnificently, and had altogether such a noble bearing before the enemy as is not often seen.”

Clausel marched upon Valladolid, abandoning the garrisons of Toro, Tordesillas and Zamora, and, being still pressed by the British, went up the Arlazan river. Then the king passed over the Guadarama mountains to Madrid and Wellington entered Valladolid, where he found large stores, seventeen pieces of artillery, and eight hundred sick and wounded men. This terminated the Salamanca operations, which present the following remarkable results. On the 18th of July Marmont’s army, forty-two thousand sabres and bayonets with seventy-four guns, passed the Duero to attack the allies. On the 30th it repassed that river in retreat, having in those twelve days marched two hundred miles, fought three combats, and a general battle, in which one marshal of France, seven generals, and twelve thousand five hundred men and inferior officers were killed, wounded or taken, together with two eagles, several standards and twelve guns, exclusive of those found at Valladolid. In the same period the allies, who had forty-six thousand sabres and bayonets, with sixty guns, the excess of men being Spanish, marched one hundred and sixty miles, and had one marshal, Beresford, four generals and six thousand men and officers killed or wounded.

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