SECTION VII

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NAPOLEON’S INVASION OF SPAIN

CHAPTER I

FRENCH AND SPANISH PREPARATIONS

While the Supreme Junta was expending its energy on discussing the relative merits of benevolent despotism and representative government, and while CastaÑos fretted and fumed for the moving up of reinforcements that never arrived, the French Emperor was getting ready to strike. It took many weeks for the veteran divisions from Glogau and Erfurt, from Bayreuth and Berlin, to traverse the whole breadth of the French Empire and reach the Pyrenees. While they were trailing across the Rhineland and the plains of France, well fÊted and fed at every important town[387], their master employed the time of waiting in strengthening his political hold on Central Europe. We have seen that he was seriously alarmed at the possibility of an Austrian war, and alluded to it in his confidential letters to his kinsfolk. But the court of Vienna was slow to stir, and as August and September slipped by without any definite move on the Danube, Bonaparte began to hope that he was to be spared the dangerous problem of waging two European wars at the same time. Meanwhile he assumed an arrogant and blustering tone with the Austrian Government, warning them that though he was withdrawing 100,000 men from Germany, he should replace them with new levies, and was still strong enough to hold his own[388]. Metternich gave prudent and evasive answers, and no immediate signs of a rupture could be discerned. But to make matters sure, the Emperor hastened to invite his ally the Emperor Alexander of Russia to meet him at Erfurt. The ostensible object of the conference was to make a final effort to induce the British Government to accept terms of peace. Its real meaning was that Bonaparte wished to reassure himself concerning the Czar’s intentions, and to see whether he could rely upon the support of Russia in the event of a new Austrian war. There is no need to go into the details of the meeting (September 27 to October 14), of the gathering of four vassal kings and a score of minor princes of the Confederation of the Rhine to do homage to their master, of the feasts and plays and reviews. Suffice it to say that Napoleon got what he wanted, a definite promise from the Czar of an offensive and defensive alliance against all enemies whatsoever: a special mention of Austria was made in the tenth clause of the new treaty[389]. In return Alexander obtained leave to carry out his designs against Finland and the Danubian principalities: his ally was only too glad to see him involved in any enterprise that would distract his attention from Central Europe. The Emperor Francis II hastened to disarm the suspicions of Napoleon by sending to Erfurt an envoy[390] charged with all manner of pacific declarations: they were accepted, but the acceptance was accompanied by a message of scarcely concealed threats[391], which must have touched the court of Vienna to the quick. Strong in his Russian alliance, Bonaparte chose rather to bully than to cajole the prince who, by the strangest of chances, was destined within eighteen months to become his father-in-law. The quiet reception given to his hectoring dispatches showed that, for the present at least, nothing need be feared from the side of Austria. The Emperor’s whole attention could be turned towards Spain. After telling off a few more regiments for service beyond the Pyrenees, and giving leave to the princes of the Confederation of the Rhine to demobilize their armies, he left Erfurt [October 14] and came rushing back across Germany and France to Paris; he stayed there ten days and then started for Bayonne, where he arrived on the twentieth day after the termination of the conference [November 3].

Meanwhile the ostensible purpose of that meeting had been carried out, by the forwarding to the King of England of a joint note in which France and Russia offered him peace on the basis of Uti Possidetis. It was a vague and grandiloquent document, obviously intended for the eye of the public rather than for that of the old King. The two Emperors expatiated on the horrors of war and on the vast changes made of late in the map of Europe. Unless peace were made ‘there might be greater changes still, and all to the disadvantage of the English nation.’ The Continental System was working untold misery, and the cessation of hostilities would be equally advantageous to Great Britain and to her enemies. King George should ‘listen to the voice of humanity,’ and assure the happiness of Europe by consenting to a general pacification.

Though well aware of the hollowness of these protestations, which were only intended to throw on England the odium of continuing the war, the British Cabinet took them into serious consideration. The replies to the two powers were carefully kept separate, and were written, not in the name of the King (for the personal appeal to him was merely a theatrical device), but in that of the ministry. To Russia a very polite answer was returned, but the question on which the possibility of peace rested was brought straight to the front. Would France acknowledge the existing government of Spain as a power with which she was prepared to treat? Canning, who drafted the dispatch, was perfectly well aware that nothing was further from the Emperor’s thoughts, and could not keep himself from adding an ironical clause, to the effect that Napoleon had so often spoken of late of his regard for the dignity and welfare of the Spanish people, that it could not be doubted that he would consent. The late transactions at Bayonne, ‘whose principles were as unjust as their example was dangerous to all legitimate sovereigns,’ must clearly have been carried through without his concurrence or approbation.

The reply to France was still more uncompromising. ‘The King,’ it said, ‘was desirous for peace on honourable terms. The miserable condition of the Continent, to which allusion had been made, was not due to his policy: a system devised for the destruction of British commerce had recoiled on its authors and their instruments.’ But the distress even of his enemies was no source of pleasure to the King, and he would treat at once, if the representatives of Sweden, Portugal, Sicily, and Spain were admitted to take part in the negotiations. It was to be specially stipulated that the ‘Central Junta of Government’ at Madrid was to be a party to any treaty of peace.

The two British notes brought the replies from St. Petersburg and Paris that Canning expected. Count Romanzoff, writing for the Czar, could only state that his master had acknowledged Joseph Bonaparte as King of Spain, and could not recognize the existence of any other legal authority in that kingdom. But if this point (the only really important one) could be got over, the Russian Government was ready to treat on a basis of Uti Possidetis, or any other just and honourable terms. The French reply was, as was natural, couched in very different language. Napoleon had been irritated by Canning’s sarcastic allusions to the failure of the Continental System: he thought the tone of the British note most improper and insulting—‘it comes from the same pen which the English ministry employs to fabricate the swarm of libels with which it inundates the Continent. Such language is despicable, and unworthy of the imperial attention[392].’

Considering the offensive and bullying tone which Bonaparte was wont to use to other powers—his note written to Austria a few days before was a fair example of it—he had little reason to be indignant at the epigrams of the English minister. Yet the latter might perhaps have done well to keep his pen under control, and to forget that he was not writing for the Anti-Jacobin, but composing an official document. Even though Napoleon’s offer was hollow and insincere, it should have been met with dry courtesy rather than with humorous irony.

Of course Bonaparte refused to treat the Spaniards as a free and equal belligerent power. He had declared his brother King of Spain, and had now reached that pitch of blind autolatry in which he regarded his own fiat as the sole source of legality. In common honour England could not abandon the insurgents; for the Emperor to allow his brother’s claim to be ignored was equally impossible. In his present state of mind he would have regarded such a concession to the enemy as an acknowledgement of disgraceful defeat. It was obvious that the war must go on, and when the Emperor suggested that England might treat with him without stipulating for the admission of the Junta as a party to the negotiations[393], he must have been perfectly well aware that he was proposing a dishonourable move which the ministry of Portland could not possibly make. His suggestions as to a separate treaty with England on the basis of Uti Possidetis were futile: he intended that they should be declined, and declined they were. But he had succeeded in his end of posing before the French nation and the European powers as a lover of peace, foiled in his devices by the unbending arrogance of Great Britain. This was all that he had desired, and so far his machinations attained their object[394].

Long before the English replies had been sent off to Champagny and Romanzoff, the much-delayed campaign on the Ebro had commenced. All through the months of August and September the French had behaved as if their adversaries were acting on proper military principles, and might be expected to throw their whole force on the true objective point. Jourdan and his colleagues had no reason to foresee that the Spanish Government would launch out into the hideous series of blunders which, as a matter of fact, were committed. That no commander-in-chief would be appointed, that the victorious troops of Baylen would be held back for weeks in Andalusia, that no strenuous effort would be made to raise new armies in Leon and the two Castiles, were chances that seemed so improbable that King Joseph and his advisers did not take them into consideration. They expected that the Spaniards would mass the armies of Andalusia, Estremadura, Castile, and Aragon, and endeavour to turn their left flank on the side of Sanguesa and Pampeluna, or that (the other rational course) they would send the Asturians, the Andalusians, and the Castilians to join Blake, and debouch down the line of the Upper Ebro, from Reynosa on to Vittoria and Miranda. In the first case 70,000, and in the latter case 80,000 men would be flung against one flank of the French position, and it would be necessary to concentrate in hot haste in order to hold them back. But, as a matter of fact, the Spanish forces did not even come up to the front for many weeks, and when they did appear it was, as we have seen, not in the form of one great army concentrated for a stroke on a single point, but as a number of weak and isolated columns, each threatening a different part of the long line that lay along the Ebro from Miranda to Milagro. When feeble demonstrations were made against so many separate sections of his front, Jourdan supposed that they were skilful feints, intended to cover some serious attack on a weak spot, and acted accordingly, holding back till the enemy should develop his real plan, and refusing to commit himself meanwhile to offensive operations on a serious scale. It must be confessed that the chaotic and inconsequent movements of the Spaniards bore, to the eye of the observer from the outside, something like the appearance of a deep plan. On August 27 the Conde de Montijo, with a column of the Aragonese army, felt his way up the Ebro as far as the bridge of Alfaro, nearly opposite the extreme left flank of the French at Milagro. When attacked by Lefebvre-Desnouettes at the head of a few cavalry and a horse-battery, the Spanish general refused to stand, and retreated on Tudela. Marshal Moncey then pressed him with an infantry division, but Montijo again gave back. The French thought that this move must be a mere diversion, intended to attract their attention to the side of Aragon, for Montijo had acted with such extreme feebleness that it was unnatural to suppose that he was making anything but a feint. They were quite wrong however: Palafox had told the count to push as far up the Ebro as he could, without any thought of favouring operations by Blake or CastaÑos, the former of whom was at this moment not far in front of Astorga, while the latter was still at Madrid. Montijo had given way simply because his troops were raw levies, and because there were no supports behind him nearer than Saragossa. It was to no effect, therefore, that King Joseph, after the fighting in front of Alfaro and Tudela, moved his reserves up the river to Miranda, thinking that the real attack must be coming from that side. There was no real attack intended, for the enemy had not as yet brought any considerable force up to the front.

It was not till nearly three weeks later that the Spaniards made another offensive move. This time Blake was the assailant. On September 10 he had at last concentrated the greater part of his army at Reynosa—the centre of roads at the source of the Ebro, of which we have already had to speak on several occasions. He had with him four divisions of the army of Galicia, as well as a ‘vanguard brigade’ and a ‘reserve brigade’ of picked troops from the same quarter. Close behind him were 8,000 Asturians under General Acevedo. The whole came to 32,000 men, but there were no more than 400 cavalry with the corps—a fact which made Blake very anxious to keep to the mountains and to avoid the plains of Old Castile[395]. He had left behind him in Galicia and about Astorga more than 10,000 men of new levies, not yet fit to take the field. There were also some 9,000 Asturians in similar case, held back within the limits of their own principality[396].

In the elaborate plan of operations which had been sketched out at Madrid on September 5, it will be remembered that Blake’s army was intended to co-operate with those of CastaÑos and of Eguia. But he paid no attention whatever to the promises which his representative, Infantado, had made in his name, and executed an entirely different movement: there was no commander-in-chief to compel him to act in unison with his colleagues. The Castilian and Estremaduran armies were not ready, and CastaÑos had as yet only a feeble vanguard facing the enemy on the Central Ebro, his rear divisions being still far back, on the road from Andalusia. Blake neither asked for nor received any assistance whatever from his colleagues, and set out in the most light-hearted way to attack 70,000 French with his 32,000 Galicians and Asturians.

His plan was to threaten Burgos with a small portion of his army, while with the main body he marched on Bilbao, in order to rouse Biscay to a second revolt, and to turn the right flank of the French along the sea-shore. Accordingly he sent his ‘vanguard’ and ‘reserve’ brigades towards Burgos, by the road that passes by OÑa and Briviesca, while with four complete divisions he moved on Bilbao. On the twentieth his leading column turned out of that town General Monthion, who was in garrison there with a weak brigade of details and detachments.

Here at last, as it seemed to Joseph Bonaparte and to Jourdan, was the long-expected main attack of the Spaniards. Accordingly they concentrated to their right, with the object of meeting it. BessiÈres evacuated Burgos and drew back to the line of the Upper Ebro. He there replaced the King’s reserve, and the incomplete corps that was forming at Miranda and Vittoria under the command of Marshal Ney: thus these troops became available for operations in Biscay. Ney, with two small infantry divisions, marched on Bilbao by way of Durango: Joseph, with the reserve, followed him. But when the Marshal reached the Biscayan capital, the division of Blake’s army[397], which had occupied it for the last six days, retired and took up a defensive attitude in the hills above Valmaceda, twenty miles to the west. Here it was joined by a second division of the Galician army[398], and stood fast in a very difficult country abounding in strong positions. Ney therefore held back, unwilling to attack a force that might be 30,000 strong (for all that he knew) with the 10,000 men that he had brought. Clearly he must wait for King Joseph and the reserve, in case he should find that Blake’s whole army was in front of him.

But the King and his corps failed to appear: BessiÈres had sent to inform him that Blake, far from having moved his whole army on to Bilbao, had still got the bulk of it in positions from which he could march down the Ebro and attack Miranda and Vittoria. This was to a certain extent true, for the first and second divisions of the Galician army were now at Villarcayo, on the southern side of the Cantabrian hills, a spot from which they could march either northward to Bilbao or eastward to Miranda. Moreover, Blake’s ‘reserve’ and ‘vanguard’ brigades were still about Frias and OÑa, whither they had been pushed before the French evacuated Burgos. BessiÈres, therefore, had much to say in favour of his view, that the point of danger was in the Ebro valley and not in Biscay. King Joseph, convinced by his arguments, left Ney unreinforced, and took post with the 6,000 men of the central reserve at Vittoria. His conclusion that Bilbao was not the true objective of the Spaniards was soon confirmed by other movements of the enemy. The feeble columns of CastaÑos were at last showing on the Central Ebro, and Palafox was on the move on the side of Aragon.

Under the idea that all Blake’s Biscayan expedition had been no more than a feint and a diversion, and that the real blow would be struck on the Ebro, Jourdan and the King now directed Ney to come back from Bilbao and to take up his old positions. The Marshal obeyed: leaving General Merlin with 3,000 men in the Biscayan capital, he returned with 7,000 bayonets to La Guardia, on the borders of Alava and Navarre. His old head quarters at LogroÑo, beyond the Ebro, had been occupied by the head of one of CastaÑos’s columns. He did not attack this force, but merely encamped opposite it, on the northern bank of the river [October 5][399].

Map of part of northern Spain

Enlarge Part of Northern Spain.

It is now time to review the position and forces of the Spanish armies, which were at last up in the fighting line. Blake’s 32,000 Asturians[400] and Galicians were divided into two masses, at Valmaceda and Villarcayo, on the two sides of the Cantabrian hills. They were within three marches of each other, and the whole could be turned either against Biscay or against Vittoria, as the opportunity might demand. But between Blake and the central divisions of the Spanish army there was a vast gap. This, at a later period of the campaign, was filled up by bringing forward the 12,000 men of the Estremaduran army to Burgos: but this force, insufficient as it was for the purpose, had not reached the front: in the middle of October it had not even arrived at Madrid[401]. There seems to have been at Burgos nothing more than a detached battalion or two, which had occupied the place when BessiÈres drew back towards the Ebro[402]. Of all the Spanish forces, the nearest organized corps on Blake’s right consisted of the main body of this same army of Castile. This division, for it was no more, consisted of about 10,000 or 11,000 men: it contained a few regular corps (Regiment of Cantabria, a battalion of Grenadiers, the Leon Militia) which had been lent to it by the army of Andalusia, and twelve raw Leonese and Castilian battalions, of the new levy which Cuesta had raised. There were also some 800 cavalry with it. The commander was now Pignatelli, for Eguia (who had originally been told off to the post) had fallen sick. This small and inefficient force was at LogroÑo on the Central Ebro, having taken possession of that place when it was evacuated by Marshal Ney in the last week of September. A little further down the river lay the 2nd Division of the army of Andalusia, which, under the orders of Coupigny, had taken a creditable part in the battle of Baylen. Released by the Junta of Seville in September, it had at last gone forward and joined CastaÑos. But it was somewhat changed in composition, for three of its original fourteen battalions had been withdrawn[403] and sent to Catalonia, while three new Andalusian corps had replaced them. Its commander was now General Grimarest, Coupigny having been told off to another sphere of duty. The division numbered about 6,000 bayonets, with 400 or 500 cavalry, and a single battery. It occupied Lodosa, on the north bank of the Ebro, some twelve miles down-stream from LogroÑo. Quite close to its right there lay at Calahorra the 4th Division of the army of Andalusia, under La PeÑa—a somewhat stronger force—about 7,500 foot, with 400 horse and two batteries. The only remaining division of CastaÑos’ ‘Army of the Centre’ consisted of the Murcian and Valencian corps under Llamas. This had entered Madrid 8,000 strong on August 13, but one of its regiments had been left behind at Aranjuez to guard the Junta. It now consisted of no more than 7,000 men, and lay at Tudela, in close touch with La PeÑa’s Andalusians. The total, therefore, of CastaÑos’ army in the second half of October did not amount to more than 31,000 foot and 3,000 horse. The 1st and 3rd divisions of the Andalusian army, long detained beyond the Morena by the Junta of Seville, were but just commencing to arrive at Madrid: of their 15,000 men less than half reached the front in November, in time to take their share in the rout of Tudela. Even these were not yet at CastaÑos’ disposition in October[404].

The right wing of the Spanish army of the Ebro consisted of the raw and half-organized masses composing the army of Aragon. Palafox had succeeded in getting together a great body of men from that loyal province, but he had not been able to form them into a force fit to take the field. Owing to the way in which Aragon had been stripped of regular troops before the commencement of the war, there was no solid body round which the new levies could be organized, and no supply of trained officers to drill or discipline the thousands of eager recruits. It would seem that in all no less than 32,000 were raised, but no force in any degree approaching these numbers took the field. Every village and every mountain valley had contributed its partida or its company, but with the best of wills Palafox had not yet succeeded in incorporating all these small and scattered units into regiments and brigades. Many of them had not even been armed: very few had been properly clothed and equipped. Nevertheless no fewer than thirty-nine battalions in a state of greater or less organization were in existence by the end of October. They varied in strength to the most extraordinary degree: many were no more than 300 strong[405], one or two were enormous and ran up to 1,300 or 1,400 bayonets. Of the whole thirty-nine battalions only three belonged to the old regular army, and these corps—whose total numbers only reached 2,350 men—had been largely diluted with raw recruits[406]. Of the remainder some belonged to the tercios who had taken arms in June, and had served through the first siege of Saragossa, but a large number had only been raised after Verdier had retired from before the city in August. It would seem that the total of Palafox’s Aragonese, who went to the front for the campaign of October and November, was about 12,000 men. The rest were left behind at Saragossa, being not yet organized or equipped for field service.

But Palafox had also in his army troops which did not belong to his native kingdom. These were the Murcians and Valencians of Saint March and O’Neille, who after taking part in the campaign against Moncey, had not marched with Llamas to Madrid, but had turned off to aid in raising the siege of Saragossa. Saint March had brought with him fourteen battalions and a cavalry regiment, O’Neille had with him three more infantry corps. The total of their force reached 11,200 bayonets and 620 sabres. Adding these to the best of his own Aragonese levies, Palafox sent out 23,000 men: of these only about 800 were cavalry[407]. A force such as this, backed by the mass of unorganized levies at Saragossa, was barely sufficient to maintain a defensive position on the frontiers of Aragon. But the Junta, with great unwisdom, came to the conclusion that Palafox was strong enough not only to hold his own against the French in his immediate front, but to spare some troops to reinforce the army of Catalonia. By their orders he told off six battalions—some 4,000 men—who were placed under the command of his brother, the Marquis of Lazan, and dispatched to Lerida with the object of aiding the Captain-General of Catalonia to besiege Duhesme in Barcelona.

Nor was this the only force that was drawn off from the main theatre of the war in order to take part in helping the Catalans, who had hitherto proved quite strong enough to help themselves. The Junta directed Reding, the victor of Baylen, to take command of all the Granadan troops in the army of Andalusia, and lead them to Tortosa with the object of joining Lazan. With Reding there marched nearly 15,000 men[408]: to raise this force all the regiments belonging to the kingdom of Granada had been drafted out from the 1st and 2nd Divisions of CastaÑos’ army, which were thus mutilated before they reached the Ebro. To those comparatively veteran troops were added eight new battalions of raw levies—the regiments of Baza, Almeria, Loxa, and Santa FÉ. Starting on their long march from Granada on October 8, the head of Reding’s column had only reached Murcia on October 22, and was thus hopelessly distant from any point where it could have been useful when the campaign began[409]. Nor was this the last detachment which the Junta directed on Catalonia: it sent thither part of the prisoners from Lisbon, whom the Convention of Cintra had delivered—3,500 of the men who had once formed the division of Caraffa. Laguna, who now held the command, landed from English transports at La Rapita near Tortosa on October 25, and marched from thence on Tarragona[410].

It is safe to say that of these 23,000 men transferred to Catalonia from Aragon, Granada, and Portugal, every man ought to have been pushed forward to help CastaÑos on the Ebro, and not distracted to the side-issue at Barcelona. It was mad to send them thither when the main force facing Jourdan and King Joseph did not yet amount to 75,000 men. Catalonia, with such small aid as the Balearic Islands could give, was strong enough to defend herself against the motley hordes of Duhesme and Reille.

At the moment when the feeble offensive of CastaÑos and Palafox began, on the line of the Ebro, the French had some 65,000 men ranged opposite them[411], while a reserve of 10,000 was formed at Bayonne, and the leading columns of the ‘Grand Army’ from Germany were only ten or twelve marches away. Napoleon had, by a decree issued on September 7, recast the form of his army of Spain. It was in the future to consist of seven army corps. The 1st, 4th, and 5th were to be composed of old divisions from the Rhine and the Elbe. Of the forces already on the spot BessiÈres’ troops were to form the 2nd Corps, Moncey’s the 3rd, the still incomplete divisions under Ney the 6th. The army of Catalonia, where St. Cyr was superseding Reille, formed the 7th Corps[412]. Junot’s army from Portugal, when it once more appeared upon the scene, made the 8th, but in September Napoleon did not yet know of its fate, and it only received its number and its place in the host at a much later date. Many alterations of detail were made in the brigades and divisions that formed the new 2nd and 3rd Corps. All the bataillons de marche were abolished, and their men drafted into the old regiments. The fifteen ‘provisional regiments,’ which had composed the whole of Moncey’s and a considerable part of BessiÈres’ strength, were taken into the regular establishment of the army, and renumbered as the 114th-120th of the Line and the 33rd LÉger, two provisional regiments being told off to form each of the new bodies[413]. There was a certain amount of shifting of units, but in the main the brigades and divisions of these two corps remained intact.

On or about October 8-10 BessiÈres lay at Miranda and Murguia, guarding against any possible descent of Blake from Villarcayo upon the Upper Ebro. Ney was at La Guardia, facing Pignatelli’s Castilians, who occupied his old head quarters at LogroÑo. Moncey had thrown back his left to guard against a possible descent of Palafox upon Navarre, and was behind the line of the river Aragon, with his right at Estella, his centre at Falces and Tafalla, and his left facing Sanguesa, where it was opposed by the advanced division of the army of Palafox under O’Neille. For the Captain-General of Aragon, pleased with a plan proposed to him by Colonel Doyle, the English military attachÉ in his camp, had resolved to make a long turning movement under the roots of the Pyrenees, exactly parallel to that which Blake was executing at the other end of the line. With this object he sent out from Saragossa, on September 29, O’Neille with a division of Aragonese strengthened by a few Murcian and Valencian battalions, and numbering some 9,000 bayonets. This detachment, marching in a leisurely way, reached Sanguesa on the Upper Aragon, but there stopped short, on getting information that Moncey’s corps lay before it in some strength. Palafox then sent up in support a second division, Saint March’s Murcians and Valencians, who advanced to Egea and there halted. There was considerable bickering all through the second half of October on this line, but Sanguesa remained in the hands of the Spaniards, Moncey being too much distracted by the movements of CastaÑos in the direction of Tudela to dare to concentrate his whole force for a blow at Saint March and O’Neille. The latter, on the other hand, had realized that if they pressed further forward towards Pampeluna, as their commander-in-chief had originally intended, they would leave Moncey so much in their rear that he could cut them off both from Saragossa and from the Army of the Centre. Here then matters had come to a deadlock; but the position was all in favour of the French, who lay compactly in the centre, while O’Neille and Saint March were separated from CastaÑos by a gap of sixty miles, and Blake on the other wing was about seventy (as the crow flies) from the army of Castile.


SECTION VII: CHAPTER II

THE PRELIMINARY FIGHTING: ARRIVAL OF NAPOLEON

By the middle of October the French and Spanish armies were in presence of each other along the whole line of the Ebro, and it seemed certain that one or other of them must at last take the offensive. Both were still in expectation of reinforcements, but those which the Spaniards could expect to receive within the next few weeks were comparatively unimportant, while their adversaries knew that more than 100,000 men from Germany were due at Bayonne in the last days of October. Clearly it was for CastaÑos and his colleagues to make a move now or never. The wasted months of August and September could not be recalled, but there was still time to attack BessiÈres, Ney, and Moncey, before the arrival of the Emperor and the three veteran corps from the Elbe.

Matters lay thus when the Spanish generals resolved on a perfectly new and wildly impracticable scheme. CastaÑos had come to the conclusion—a thoroughly sound one—that his 34,000 men were too few to make a frontal attack on the French on the line between Miranda and Calahorra. He left Madrid on October 13, deeply chagrined to find that the Central Junta had no intention of making him commander-in-chief. Instead of being able to issue orders to the other generals, he must meet them on equal terms and endeavour to cajole them into adopting a common plan of operations. Accordingly he rode to Saragossa to visit Palafox, and after long and not very friendly converse drew out a new plan. The Army of the Centre was to shift itself down the Ebro, leaving the troops of Pignatelli (the ‘Army of Castile’) and of Grimarest (the 2nd Andalusian division) to ‘contain’ Ney and BessiÈres. The rest were to concentrate at Tudela, where they were to be joined by as many battalions of the Aragonese levies at Saragossa as could take the field. With some 25,000 or 30,000 men at the highest estimate, CastaÑos and Palafox were to fall upon Moncey’s flank at the bridge of Caparrosa. Meanwhile O’Neille and Saint March, with the advanced divisions of the army of Aragon, were to break up from Sanguesa, march round Pampeluna by the foot-hills of the Pyrenees, and place themselves across the road to France. Moncey was thus to be surrounded, and a second Baylen was to ensue! Indeed, if Blake could be persuaded to push forward once more to Bilbao, and thence into Guipuzcoa, the whole army of King Joseph (as it was hoped) might be cut off and made prisoners. Eighty thousand men, according to this strange scheme, starting from bases 200 miles apart, were to surround 65,000 French in a most difficult mountain country. Meanwhile the enormous gap between Blake’s right and CastaÑos’ left was to remain wholly unguarded, for the army of Estremadura was still in the far distance; while nothing was to be left opposite BessiÈres and Ney save Pignatelli’s disorderly ‘Army of Castile,’ and Grimarest’s 6,000 Andalusians.

But before the scheme for the cutting off of Moncey had even begun to be carried out, CastaÑos and Palafox had a rude awakening. They were themselves attacked by the army which they were so confidently proposing to surround. King Joseph, emboldened by the long delay of his adversaries in advancing, had several times discussed with Jourdan, BessiÈres, and Ney schemes for taking the offensive. Indeed he had sketched out in September no less than five separate plans for bringing the enemy to an action, and it is probable that he might have tried one of them if he had been allowed a free hand[414]. Napoleon, however, having determined to come to Spain in person, put an embargo on any comprehensive scheme for an advance on Madrid, and restricted his brother to minor operations.

But there was nothing in the Emperor’s instructions which forbade a blow on a small scale, if the Spaniards should grow too daring. There was now a good excuse for such a move, for both Pignatelli and Grimarest had been trespassing beyond the Ebro. They seem to have moved forward quite contrary to the intentions of CastaÑos, who at this moment was proposing to refuse battle with his left and centre, and to draw the bulk of his army southward to Tudela. But his two divisional generals pushed so far forward, that they at last drew upon themselves most undesired attentions from the French marshals. Pignatelli had thrown troops across the Ebro to Viana: Grimarest had pushed detachments still further forward into Navarre, to Mendavia, Sesma, and Lerin. Joseph and Jourdan resolved to drive back these outlying posts, and to find out what was behind them. About 25,000 men were put in movement against the 16,000 Spaniards who had so rashly crossed the river. Moncey marched against Grimarest [Oct. 25-6] with two divisions: Ney with a similar force fell upon Pignatelli, while BessiÈres sent a division down the southern bank of the Ebro by Haro and Briones, to threaten the line of retreat of the army of Castile across the bridge of LogroÑo.

Against such forces the Spaniards could do nothing: on the twenty-fifth Ney marched on Viana, and drove in Pignatelli’s advanced guard. On the following day he opened a fierce cannonade upon LogroÑo from across the river, while at the same time Bonnet’s division, sent by BessiÈres, marched upon the town from the hither side of the Ebro. Pignatelli was a craven, and his Castilian levies proved to be the worst of all the material which the Spaniards had brought to the front. General and army vanished in the night, without even stopping to blow up the great bridge, though they had mined it and laid the train in due form. Ney’s officers crossing at dawn found all prepared, except the sappers who should have applied the match[415]! Neither Ney nor Bonnet got in touch with the flying horde: but in sheer panic Pignatelli abandoned his guns by the roadside, and did not stop till he had joined CastaÑos at Cintruenigo, near Tudela. His hurried retreat was wholly unnecessary, for the French did not move beyond LogroÑo, and CastaÑos was able to send out next morning a brigade which picked up the deserted guns and brought them in without molestation. Rightly indignant, the Commander-in-chief removed Pignatelli from his post, and distributed his demoralized battalions among the divisions of Grimarest, La PeÑa, and Llamas[416], leaving in separate existence only a single brigade of six battalions under Cartaojal, which mainly consisted of the few regular battalions that had been lent to Pignatelli to stiffen his raw levies. Thus the ‘Army of Castile’ ceased to exist[417].

On the same day that the Castilians were routed by Ney, the 2nd Andalusian division was severely handled by Moncey. When that Marshal advanced against Lerin and Sesma with the divisions of Morlot and Maurice Mathieu, Grimarest withdrew beyond the Ebro, abandoning by some oversight his vanguard. This force, commanded by a resolute officer, Colonel Cruz-Murgeon, was enveloped at Lerin by the division of Morlot[418]. The colonel shut himself up in the mediaeval castle of that town, and defended himself for two days, in hopes that he might be succoured. But his chief had fled beyond the river, and could not be induced to return by any appeals. On October 27 Cruz-Murgeon had to surrender, after two-thirds of his troops had been killed or wounded. Their obstinate defence was the more creditable because they were all new levies, consisting of a single Andalusian battalion (Tiradores de Cadiz) and a few Catalan volunteers. Marshal Moncey then occupied Lodosa and its bridge, but made no attempt to follow Grimarest, who was able to rejoin his chief without further loss.

CastaÑos was greatly disturbed by the vigorous offensive movement of Ney and Moncey. Seeing the French so strong and so confident, he was struck with sudden qualms as to the advisability of the movement on Caparrosa and Pampeluna, which he and Palafox had agreed to carry out. He proposed to his colleague that they should drop their plan for surrounding Moncey, and attempt no more than an attack on his flanks at Caparrosa and Sanguesa. Meanwhile he concentrated the greater part of his army at Calahorra and Tudela [Oct. 29]. The initiative had passed to the French, and if Ney and Moncey did not seize the opportunity for an advance against the Army of the Centre, it was merely because they knew that Napoleon was now close at hand—he reached Bayonne four days later—and would not wish them to attempt anything decisive without his orders.

Meanwhile there arrived from Madrid a deputation from the Supreme Junta, consisting of Francisco Palafox (the younger brother of the Captain-General), of Coupigny, Reding’s colleague at the victory of Baylen, and the intriguing Conde de Montijo. The Junta were indignant that CastaÑos had not made bricks without straw. Though they had not given him any appreciable reinforcements, they had expected him to attack the French and win a great victory beyond the Ebro. Conscious that the deputies came to him in no friendly spirit, CastaÑos nevertheless received them with all respect, and laid before them the difficulties of his situation. Joseph Palafox came up from Saragossa to join the conference, and after a long and stormy meeting—this was the conference which so disgusted Colonel Graham[419]—it was decided to resume offensive operations [November 5]. The idea was a mad one, for six days before the council of war was held two French army corps, those of Victor and Lefebvre, had crossed the Bidassoa and entered Spain. There were now 110,000 instead of 65,000 enemies in front of the Spanish armies. Moreover, and this was still more important, Napoleon himself had reached Bayonne on November 3.

Nevertheless it was resolved once more to push forward and fall upon Moncey. CastaÑos was to leave one division at Calahorra, and to bring the rest of his army over the Ebro to attack the bridge of Caparrosa: O’Neille and Saint March were to come down from Sanguesa to co-operate with him: Joseph Palafox was to bring up the Aragonese reserves from Saragossa. The only sign of prudence that appeared was that the council of war agreed not to commence the attack on Moncey till they had learnt how Blake and the army of Galicia were faring in Biscay. For that general had, as they knew, commenced some days before his second advance on Bilbao. Since the armies on the Central Ebro hung back, it was in the distant region on the coast that the first important collision between the Spaniards and the French reinforcements from Germany was to take place. For a fortnight more there was comparative quiet in front of Tudela and Caparrosa. Meanwhile CastaÑos, prostrated by an attack of the gout[420], took to his bed, and the Army of the Centre was abandoned for a few days to the tender mercies of the deputation from Madrid.

There is a strange contrast when we turn from the study of the rash and inconsiderate plans of the Spanish generals to mark the movements of Napoleon. The Emperor had left Erfurt on October 14: on the nineteenth he had reached Paris, where he stayed for ten days, busied not only with the ‘logistics’ of moving the columns of the ‘Grand Army’ across France, but with all manner of administrative work. He had also to arrange the details of the conscription: though he had raised in 1807 the enormous mass of new levies of which we had to speak in an earlier chapter, he now asked for 140,000 men more[421]. Of these, 80,000 were to be drawn from the classes of 1806-9, which had already contributed so heavily to the army. The balance was to be taken from the class of 1810, whose members were still fifteen months below the legal age. From these multitudes of young soldiers every regiment of the army of Spain was to be brought up to full strength, but the majority were destined to reinforce the depleted armies of Germany and Italy, which had been thinned of veterans for the Peninsular War.

On October 25 Bonaparte presided at the opening of the Legislative Assembly, and made a characteristic harangue to its members. He painted the situation of the Empire in the most roseate colours. ‘The sight of this great French family, once torn apart by differences of opinion and domestic hatreds, but now so tranquil, prosperous, and united, had sensibly touched his soul. To be happy himself he only required the assurance that France also was happy. Law, finance, the Church, every branch of the state, seemed in the most flourishing condition. The Empire was strong in its alliances with Russia, the Confederation of the Rhine, Denmark, Switzerland, and Naples. Great Britain, it was true, had landed some troops in the Peninsula, and stirred up insurrections there. But this was a blessing in disguise. The Providence which had so constantly protected the arms of France, had deigned to strike the English ministry with blindness, and to induce them to present an army on the Continent where it was doomed to inevitable destruction. In a few days the Emperor would place himself at the head of his troops, and, with the aid of God, would crown in Madrid the true King of Spain, and plant his eagles on the forts of Lisbon[422].’

Four days later Bonaparte quitted Paris, and passing hastily through Orleans and Bordeaux reached Bayonne at three o’clock in the morning of November 3. The corps of Victor and Lefebvre, with two divisions of dragoons, were several days ahead of him, and had already crossed the Bidassoa. The Imperial Guard and the divisions destined for Ney[423], as well as a great mass of cavalry, were just converging on the frontier. Mortier’s corps was not very far off: Junot’s army from Portugal had already landed at Quiberon and Rochefort, and was being directed on Bordeaux. All the machinery for the great blow was now ready.

Napoleon profoundly despised the Spanish army and the Spanish generals. His correspondence is full of contemptuous allusions to them: ‘ever since he served at Toulon he knew them for the worst troops in Europe.’ ‘Nothing could be so bad as the Spaniards—they are mere rabble—6,000 French can beat 20,000 of them.’ ‘The whole Spanish army could not turn 15,000 good troops out of a position that had been properly occupied[424].’ Nevertheless he had determined to run no risks: the second Peninsular campaign must not end like the first, in a fiasco and a humiliating retreat. It was for this reason that the Emperor had massed more than 250,000 good troops against the tumultuary levies of the Junta—a force which, in his private opinion, was far more than enough to sweep the whole of his adversaries into the sea before the year 1808 should have run out. Any expedition in which he himself took part must, for the sake of his prestige, be conducted from beginning to end in a series of spectacular triumphs. It was better to use a larger army than was absolutely necessary, in order to make his blows sufficiently heavy, and to get the Spanish business over as rapidly as possible. If the whole Peninsula were overrun in a few months, and resistance had been completely beaten down ere the winter was over, there would be no chance of that intervention on the part of Austria which was the only danger on the political horizon[425].

Napoleon, therefore, drew out his plans not merely for a triumphant advance on Madrid, but for the complete annihilation of the Spanish armies on the Ebro and in Biscay. From a careful study of the dispatches of his lieutenants, he had realized the existence of the great gap in the direction of Burgos between the armies of Blake and of CastaÑos. His plan of campaign, stated shortly, was to burst in through this gap, so as to separate the Spanish armies on his left and right, and then to wheel troops outwards in both directions so as to surround and annihilate them. Both Blake and Palafox were, at this moment, playing the game that he most desired. The further that the former pressed onward into Biscay, the nearer that the latter drew to the roots of the Pyrenees, the more did they expose themselves to being encompassed by great masses of troops breaking out from Burgos and LogroÑo to fall upon their flank and rear. When the Emperor drew up his scheme he knew that Blake was in front of Zornoza, and that the bulk of the army of Aragon was at Sanguesa. Meanwhile the French advanced divisions were in possession of Miranda, LogroÑo, and Lodosa, the three chief passages over the Upper Ebro. A glance at the map is sufficient to show that the moment that the Emperor and his reserves reached Vittoria the Spanish armies were in the most perilous position. It would suffice to order a march on Burgos on the one hand and on Tudela on the other, and then the troops of Aragon and Galicia would not merely be cut off from any possible retreat on Madrid, but run grave danger of annihilation. A further advance of the French would probably thrust the one against the Pyrenees, and roll the other into the Bay of Biscay.

For this reason it was the Emperor’s wish that his lieutenants should refrain from attacking Blake and Palafox till he himself was ready to march on Burgos. For any premature advance against the Spaniards might force them to retreat from their dangerous advanced positions, and fall back the one on Reynosa the other on Saragossa, where they would be much less exposed.

The distribution of the ‘Grand Army’ was to be as follows. Lefebvre with the 4th Corps was to present himself in front of Blake between Durango and Zornoza, and to hold him fast without pressing him. Moncey with the 3rd Corps, in a similar way, was to ‘contain’ Palafox and CastaÑos from his posts at Lodosa, Caparrosa, and Tafalla. Meanwhile Victor, with the newly arrived 1st Corps, was to endeavour to get into Blake’s rear, by the road Vittoria—Murguia—OrduÑa. The main body of the army, consisting of the troops of BessiÈres and Ney, King Joseph’s reserve, the Imperial Guard, and four divisions of cavalry, was to march on Burgos. Napoleon knew that there was no large body of Spaniards in that place: he expected to find there Pignatelli’s ‘Army of Castile,’ but this force (as we have seen) had ceased to exist, having been drafted with ignominy into the ranks of the army of Andalusia[426]. As a matter of fact Burgos was now occupied by a new force from the second line—the long-expected army of Estremadura, some 12,000 strong, which had at last come up from Madrid and taken its place at the front. But Napoleon’s reasoning still held good: any Spanish army that might chance to be at Burgos must be overwhelmed by the enormous mass of troops that was about to be hurled upon it. The moment that it was disposed of, Ney with the 6th Corps was to wheel to the east, and march by Aranda and Soria, so as to place himself between CastaÑos and Palafox and Madrid. Then he would turn their flank at Tarazona and Tudela, and—in conjunction with Moncey—drive them northward against the Pyrenees. In a similar way, upon the other flank, the 2nd Corps was to wheel to the north-west and march from Burgos on Reynosa, there to intercept Blake, if he had not already been cut off by Victor’s shorter turning movement. Meanwhile the Emperor with the rest of his army, followed by the new reserves (Mortier’s corps and other troops) which were due from France, would march straight from Burgos on Madrid, force the defiles of the Somosierra and Guadarrama, and seize the Spanish capital. He was well aware that there would be no serious hostile force in front of him, since the armies of Blake, Palafox, and CastaÑos were all provided for. He does not seem to have known of the army of Estremadura, or to have had any idea that the English forces from Portugal might conceivably be on their way to cover Madrid. There is no mention of Sir John Moore and his host in the imperial dispatches till December 5.

All being ready, Bonaparte rode out of Bayonne on November 4, having stayed there only thirty-six hours. Before leaving he had received one vexatious piece of news: Lefebvre, in direct disobedience to his orders, had attacked Blake on October 31, and forced him back beyond Bilbao. This made the plan for the cutting off of the army of Galicia a little more difficult, since the Spaniards were now forty miles further back, and not nearly so much exposed as they had been hitherto. But it was still not impossible that Victor might succeed in circumventing them, and forcing them into the Bay of Biscay.

It is impossible to withhold our admiration from the Emperor’s simple yet all-embracing plan of operations. It is true that the campaign was made more easy by the fact that he was dealing with raw and undisciplined armies and inexpert generals. It is also clear that he rightly reckoned on having two men in the field against every one whom the Spaniards could produce. But the excellence of a scheme is not to be judged merely by the difficulties in its way; and military genius can be displayed in dealing with an easy as well as with a dangerous problem. Half a dozen other plans for conducting the invasion of Spain might have been drawn up, but it is impossible to see that any better one could have been constructed. In its main lines it was carried out with complete success: the armies of the Junta were scattered to the winds, and Madrid fell almost without a blow.

It was only when the capital had been occupied, and the troops of Blake and Belvedere, of CastaÑos and Palafox were flying devious over half the provinces of Spain, that the difficulties of the Peninsular War began to develop themselves. Napoleon had never before had any experience of the character of guerilla warfare, or the kind of resistance that can be offered by a proud and revengeful nation which has made up its mind never to submit to the conqueror. In his complete ignorance of Spain and the Spaniards, he imagined that he had a very simple campaign to conduct. The subjugation of the Peninsula was to him an ordinary military problem, like the invasion of Lombardy or of Prussia, and he went forth in cheerful confidence to ‘plant the eagles of France on the forts of Lisbon,’ and to ‘drive the Britannic leopard from the soil of the Peninsula, which it defiles by its presence.’ But the last chapter of this story was to be told not at Lisbon but at Toulouse: and ‘the Beneficent Providence which had deigned to strike the British ministry with such blindness that they had been induced to send an army to the Continent[427],’ had other designs than Bonaparte supposed.


SECTION VII: CHAPTER III

THE MISFORTUNES OF JOACHIM BLAKE: ZORNOZA AND ESPINOSA DE LOS MONTEROS

The campaign of November 1808 was fought out upon three separate theatres of war, though every movement of the French armies which engaged in it formed part of a single plan, and was properly linked to the operations which were progressing upon other sections of the front. The working out of Napoleon’s great scheme, therefore, must be dealt with under three heads—the destruction of Blake’s ‘Army of the Left’ in the north-west; the rout of the armies of Andalusia and Aragon upon the banks of the Ebro; and the central advance of the Emperor upon Burgos and Madrid, which completed the plan.

We must first deal with the misfortunes of Blake and his Galician host, both on chronological grounds—it was he who first felt the weight of the French arms—and also because Napoleon rightly attached more importance to the destruction of this, the most formidable of the Spanish armies, than to the other operations which he was carrying out at the same moment.

It will be remembered that after his first abortive expedition against Bilbao, and his retreat before Ney [October 5], Blake had fallen back to Valmaceda. Finding that he was not pursued, he drew up to that point the divisions which he had hitherto kept in the upper valley of the Ebro, and prepared to advance again, this time with his whole army massed for a bold stroke. On October 11 he again marched into Biscay, and drove out of Bilbao the division of General Merlin, which Ney had left behind him to hold the line of the Nervion. On the twelfth this small force fell back on Zornoza and Durango, and halted at the latter place, after having been reinforced from King Joseph’s reserve at Vittoria. Verdier headed the succours, which consisted of three battalions of the Imperial Guard, two battalions of the 118th Regiment, two battalions of Joseph’s own Royal Guards, and the 36th Regiment, which had just come up from France. When strengthened by these 7,000 men, Merlin considered himself able to make a stand, and took up a strong position in front of Durango, the important point at which the roads from Bayonne and from Vittoria to Bilbao meet.

When committing himself to his second expedition into Biscay, Blake was not wholly unaware of the dangers of the step, though he failed to realize them at their full value, since (in common with the other Spanish generals) he greatly underrated the strength of the French army on the Ebro. He intended to carry out his original plan of cutting off BessiÈres and King Joseph from their retreat on Bayonne, by forcing the position of Durango, and seizing the high-road at Bergara; but he was aware that an advance to that point had its dangers. As long as his divisions had lain in or about Villarcayo and Valmaceda, he had a perfectly clear line of retreat westward in the event of a disaster. But the moment that he pushed forward beyond Bilbao, he could be attacked in flank and rear by any troops whom the King might send up from the valley of the Ebro, by the two mountain-roads which run from Vittoria to the Biscayan capital. One of these is the main route from Vittoria to Bilbao via Murguia and OrduÑa. The other is a more obscure and difficult path, which leads across the rough watershed from Vittoria by Villareal and Villaro to Bilbao. Aware of the fact that he might be assailed by either of these two passes, Blake told off a strong covering force to hold them. Half of Acevedo’s Asturian division, 4,000 strong, was placed at OrduÑa: the other half, with the whole of Martinengo’s 2nd Division of Galicia, 8,500 bayonets in all, took its post in the direction of Villaro. These detachments were eminently justifiable, but they had the unfortunate result of enfeebling the main force that remained available for the stroke at the French in front of Durango. For that operation Blake could only count on his 1st, 3rd, and 4th Divisions, as well as the ‘Vanguard’ and ‘Reserve’ Brigades—a total of 18,000 men[428].

Blake had seized Bilbao on October 11: it is astonishing therefore to find that he made no forward movement till the twenty-fourth. By this sluggishness he sacrificed his chance of crushing Merlin before he could be reinforced, and—what was far worse—allowed the leading columns of the ‘Grand Army’ to reach Irun. If he had pressed forward on the twelfth or thirteenth, they would still have been many marches away, trailing across Guyenne and Gascony. Having once put his hand to such a dangerous manoeuvre as that of pushing between the French flank and the northern sea, Blake was most unwise to leave the enemy time to divine his object and to concentrate against him. A rapid stroke at Durango and Bergara, so as to cut the great high-road to France in the rear of BessiÈres, was his only chance. Such an attempt would probably have landed him in ultimate disaster, for the enemy (even before the ‘Grand Army’ arrived) were far more numerous than he supposed. He had valued them at 40,000 men, while they were really 64,000 strong. But having framed the plan, he should at least have made a strenuous attempt to carry it out. It is possible to explain but not to excuse his delay: his army was not equipped for a winter campaign, and the snow was beginning to lie on the upper slopes of the Cantabrian hills and the Pyrenees. While he was vainly trying to obtain great-coats and shoes for his somewhat tattered army, from the Central Junta or the English, and while he was accumulating stores in Bilbao, the days slipped by with fatal rapidity.

It was not till October 24 that he at last moved forward from Bilbao, and committed himself to the now hopeless task of clearing the way to Durango and Bergara. On that day his advanced guard drove Merlin’s outlying posts from their positions, and came face to face with the French main body, drawn out on the hillsides of Baquijano, a few miles in front of Durango. The enemy expected him to attack next day, but he had just received confused notices from the peasantry to the effect that enormous reinforcements had reached Irun and San Sebastian, and were within supporting distance of the comparatively small force with which he had hitherto been dealing. This information threw him back into the condition of doubt and hesitation from which he had for a moment emerged, and he proceeded to halt for another full week in front of the Durango position. Yet it was clear that there were only two rational alternatives before him: one was to attack Merlin and Verdier before they could draw succour from the newly arrived corps. The other was to fall back at once to a position in which he could not be enveloped and outflanked, i.e. to retire behind Bilbao, holding that town with nothing more than a small detachment which could easily get away if attacked. But Blake did nothing, and waited in the supremely dangerous post of Zornoza, in front of Durango, till the enemy fell upon him at his leisure.

The troops whose arrival at Irun had been reported consisted of the two leading divisions of the 4th Corps, that of Lefebvre, and of the whole of the 1st Corps, that of Victor. The former, arriving as early as October 18, only seven days after Blake captured Bilbao, marched westward, and replaced Merlin and Verdier in the Durango position. The troops of these two generals were directed by King Joseph to rejoin their proper commanders when relieved, so Verdier led the Guards back to the central reserve, while Merlin reported himself to Ney, at La Guardia. To compensate Lefebvre for their departure, and for the non-arrival of his third division, that of Valence, which still lay far to the rear, Villatte’s division of the 1st Corps was sent to Durango. Marshal Victor himself, with his other two divisions, took the road to Vittoria, and from thence, at the King’s orders, transferred himself to Murguia, on the cross-road over the mountains to Bilbao. Here he was in a position to strike at Blake’s rear, after driving off the 4,000 men of Acevedo’s Asturian division, who (as it will be remembered) had been told off by the Spanish General to cover this road[429].

King Joseph, inclining for once to a bold stroke, wished to push Victor across the hills on to Bilbao, while Lefebvre should advance along the high-road and drive Blake into the trap. BessiÈres at the same moment might move a division by OrduÑa and Oquendo, and place himself at Valmaceda, which Blake would have to pass if he escaped from Victor at Bilbao. This plan was eminently sound, for there was no doubt that the two marshals, who had at their disposal some 35,000 men, could easily have brushed out of their way the two divisions under Acevedo and Martinengo which Blake had left behind him in the passes. Nothing could have prevented them from seizing Bilbao and Valmaceda, and the Spanish army would have been surrounded and captured. At the best some part of it might have escaped along the coast-road to Santander, if its commander detected ere it was too late the full danger of his position.

This scheme, however, was not carried out: BessiÈres, Victor, and Ney showed themselves opposed to it: Napoleon had announced that he intended ere long to appear in person, and that he did not wish to have matters hurried before his arrival. His obsequious lieutenants refused to concur in any great general movement which might not win his approval. Victor, in particular, urged that he had been ordered to have the whole of the 1st Corps concentrated at Vittoria, and that if he marched northward into Biscay he would be violating his master’s express command[430]. Joseph and Jourdan, therefore, resolved to defer the execution of their plan for the annihilation of Blake, and sent orders to Lefebvre to maintain his defensive position at Durango, and make no forward movement. In so doing they were acting exactly as the Emperor desired.

They had forgotten, however, to reckon with the personal ambition of the old Duke of Dantzig. Lefebvre, in spite of his many campaigns, had never before had the chance of fighting on his own account a pitched battle of the first class. The Spanish army had been lying before him for a week doing nothing, its commander being evidently afraid to attack. Its force was not very great—indeed it was outnumbered by that of the Marshal whose three divisions counted not less than 21,000 bayonets[431]. Noting with the eye of an old soldier Blake’s indecision and obvious timidity, he could not resist the temptation of falling upon him. Notwithstanding the King’s orders, he resolved to strike, covering his disobedience by a futile excuse to the effect that he had observed preparations for taking the offensive on the part of the enemy, and that his outposts had been attacked.

Blake’s army lay before him, posted in three lines, with the village of Zornoza to its rear. In front, on a range of comparatively low hills, was the ‘Vanguard Brigade,’ drawn up across the road with the 1st Division of Galicia to its left on somewhat higher ground. They were supported by the 3rd and 4th Divisions, while the ‘Reserve Brigade’ occupied the houses of Zornoza to the rear of all. There were only six guns with the army, as Blake had sent the rest of his artillery to the rear, when advancing into the mountains: this single battery lay with the Vanguard on the lower heights. The whole amounted to 19,000 men, a slight reinforcement having just come to hand by the arrival of the 1st Catalonian Light Infantry[432], the advanced guard of La Romana’s army from the Baltic. That general, having landed at Santander on October 11, had reorganized his force as the ‘5th Division of the army of Galicia’ and sent it forward under his senior brigadier, the Conde de San Roman. But only the single Catalonian battalion had passed Bilbao at the moment when Lefebvre delivered his attack.

The plan of the Marshal’s advance was quite simple. The division of Villatte drove in the front line of the Spanish right, and then spread itself out on a long front threatening to turn Blake’s flank. That of Sebastiani, formed in a single dense column, marched along the high-road at the bottom of the valley to pierce the Spanish centre; meanwhile Leval’s Germans attacked the left wing of the enemy, the 1st Division of the army of Galicia[433]. A dense fog, a common phenomenon in the Pyrenees in the late autumn, hid the advance of the French, so that they were close upon the front line of Blake’s army before they were observed. The first line was easily driven in, but the whole army rallied on the heights of San Martin and stood at bay. Lefebvre cannonaded them for some time, without meeting with any reply, for Blake had hurried off his single battery to the rear when his first line gave way. Then the Marshal sent in the ten battalions of the division of Sebastiani, who completely cut through the Spanish centre, and left the two wings in isolated and dangerous positions. Without waiting for further developments, Blake gave way and ordered a retreat on Bilbao and Valmaceda. His intact wing-divisions covered the retreat, and though badly beaten he got away with very small loss, no more than 300 killed and wounded, and about the same number of prisoners. The French casualties were insignificant, not amounting in all to more than 200 men. The whole combat, indeed, though 40,000 men were on the field, was very short and not at all costly. The fact was that Blake had been surprised, and had given way at the first push, without making a serious attempt to defend himself. His sending away the guns, at the very commencement of the action, makes it sufficiently clear that he did not hope for ultimate success, and was already contemplating a retreat on Bilbao. His army, if properly handled, could have made a much more creditable fight; in fact it was tactically beaten rather than defeated by force of arms. It made its retreat in very fair order, and was irritated rather than cowed by the check which it had received. English eye-witnesses vouch for the steadiness and good spirit shown by the troops[434].

Immediately after giving orders for a general retreat behind the river Nervion, Blake had sent dispatches to the two divisions of Acevedo and Martinengo, which were covering his flank against a possible turning movement from the valley of the Ebro. They were told to save themselves, by falling back at once to Bilbao and joining the main army in its retreat. The part of the Asturian division which lay at OrduÑa succeeded in carrying out this order. But the remainder of Acevedo’s men and the whole of those of Martinengo—some 8,000 bayonets in all—were at Villaro, a point higher up in the mountains, on a much more difficult road, and closer to the French. They received Blake’s dispatch too late, and on pushing down the northern side of the pass which they had been holding, they learnt at Miravalles, only ten miles from Bilbao, that the latter town was in the hands of the French. Blake had evacuated it on the early morning of November 1, and Lefebvre had occupied it on the same night. Urging his pursuit some way beyond Bilbao in the hope of overtaking Blake, the duke pushed as far as Valmaceda: but even here the Galician army would make no stand, but fell back still further westward to Nava. Seeing that he could not reach his adversary, Lefebvre left the division of Villatte at Valmaceda to observe Blake, and returned with those of Sebastiani and Leval to Bilbao, to feed and rest his men in the town, after four days of marching in the mountains with very insufficient supplies. This was a very dangerous step, for Blake had been outmanoeuvred rather than beaten, and was still far too strong to be contained by a mere 7,000 men.

When therefore Acevedo and his column drew near to Bilbao, they learnt that 13,000 French troops blocked their road towards Blake [Nov. 3]. They drew back a little up the pass, keeping very quiet, and very fortunately failed to attract the attention of Lefebvre, who thought at the most that there were some bands of stragglers in the mountains on his left.

But their situation was still most uncomfortable, for their rearguard began to report that French troops were pushing up from Vittoria and entering the southern end of the defile in which they were blocked. King Joseph had been much vexed to hear of Lefebvre’s disobedience to his orders at Zornoza, but, wishing to draw what profit he could from the victory, sent Victor up the Murguia—OrduÑa road, with orders to cut in upon the line of Blake’s retreat. This the Duke of Belluno failed to accomplish, on account of the rapidity with which the Spanish army had retired. But reaching Amurrio, a few miles beyond OrduÑa, he came upon the flank of Acevedo’s column, whose head was blocked at Miravalles, ten miles further north, by the presence of Lefebvre at Bilbao. If either marshal had realized the situation, the 8,000 Spaniards, caught in a defile without lateral issues, must have surrendered en masse. But Victor had only one division with him, the other was far behind: and imagining that he had chanced upon the whole of Blake’s army he came to a dead stop, while Lefebvre, not yet aware of Victor’s approach, did not move at all. Acevedo wisely kept quiet, and tried to slip across Victor’s front towards Orantia and the river Salcedon: meanwhile the news of his situation reached Blake.

That general was never wanting in personal courage, and had been deeply distressed to hear that his flanking detachment had been cut off. Realizing Acevedo’s danger he resolved to make a sudden ‘offensive return’ against Lefebvre, and to endeavour to clear for a moment the road from Miravalles to Valmaceda, by which his subordinate could escape. On the night of November 4 he concentrated his whole army, which had now been raised to 24,000 men by the arrival of the main body of La Romana’s division from Santander. At dawn on the fifth he fell upon the enemy in his front, by the two roads on each side of the river Salcedon, sending one division[435] and the ‘Vanguard Brigade’ to attack Valmaceda, and two[436] and the ‘Reserve Brigade’ by Orantia along the southern bank of the stream. Villatte had been holding both these paths; but on seeing the heavy forces deployed against him, he withdrew from Orantia and concentrated at Valmaceda. This left the path clear for Acevedo, who escaped along the hillsides without being molested by Victor’s advanced guard, and got into communication with his chief. The inactivity of Victor is inexplicable: when he saw the Asturian division pushing hastily across his front, he should have attacked it at all costs; but though he heard plainly the cannonade of Villatte’s fight with Blake at Valmaceda, he held back, and finally retired on OrduÑa when Acevedo had got out of sight[437]. His only excuse was that he had heard the distant roar of battle die down, and concluded therefore that Villatte (who as he supposed might be supported by the whole of Lefebvre’s corps) must have been victorious.

As a matter of fact the isolated French division had almost suffered the fate that should have befallen the Asturians. Driven out of Valmaceda by Blake, it was falling back on Guenes when it came across Acevedo’s men marching on the opposite side of the Salcedon to join their comrades. Thereupon the Asturian general threw some of his men[438] across the stream to intercept the retiring column. Villatte formed his troops in a solid mass and broke through, but left behind him one gun (an eight-pounder), many of his baggage-wagons, and 300 prisoners. That he escaped at all is a fine testimony to his resolution and his capable handling of his troops, for he had been most wantonly exposed to destruction by Victor’s timidity and Lefebvre’s carelessness [November 5].

On hearing of Villatte’s desperate situation, the Duke of Dantzig had realized the consequences of his unjustifiable retreat to Bilbao, and marched up in hot haste with the divisions of Sebastiani and Leval. He was relieved to find that Villatte had extricated himself, and resolved to punish Blake for his unexpected offensive move. But he was unable to do his adversary much harm: the Galician general had only advanced in order to save Acevedo, and did not intend to engage in any serious fighting. When Lefebvre moved forward he found that the Spaniards would not stand. Blake had pushed out two flanking divisions to turn the position at Guenes, on to which Villatte had fallen back, and had his main body placed in front of it. But when Lefebvre advanced, the whole Galician army fell back, only fighting two rearguard actions on November 7, in which they suffered small loss. On the next day there was a more serious engagement of the same sort at Valmaceda, to which the Galicians had withdrawn on the previous night. The troops with which Blake covered his retreat were hustled out of the town with the loss of 150 killed and wounded, and 600 missing[439]. In his dispatches the Spanish general explains that he retreated not because he could not have made a better resistance, but because he had used up all his provisions, and was prevented by the bad weather and the state of the roads from drawing further supplies from Santander and Reynosa, the two nearest points at which they could be procured. For Western Biscay had been eaten bare by the large forces that had been crossing and re-crossing it during the last two months, and was absolutely incapable of feeding the army for a single day. The men too were in a wretched condition, not only from hunger[440] but from bad equipment: hardly any of them had received great-coats, their shoes were worn out, and sickness was very prevalent. An appreciable number of the raw Galician and Asturian levies deserted during the miserable retreat from Guenes and Valmaceda to Espinosa de los Monteros, the next point on the Bilbao-Reynosa road at which Blake stood at bay. When he reached that place he was short of some 6,000 men, less from losses in battle than from wholesale straggling. Moreover he was for the moment deprived of the aid of the greater part of one of his divisions. This was the 4th Galician division, that of General Carbajal: it had formed the extreme left of the army, and had lain nearest to the sea during the fighting about Guenes and Valmaceda. Cut off from the main body, a large portion of it had retreated by the coast-road towards Santander, and only a fraction of it had rejoined the commander-in-chief[441]. The total of Blake’s forces would have been nearly 40,000[442], if his army had been still at the strength with which each corps started on the campaign. But for its decisive battle he had no more than 23,000 in hand.

Beyond Valmaceda he had been pursued no longer by Lefebvre, but by Victor. The latter, soundly rebuked by the Emperor for his inactivity on November 5, had advanced again from OrduÑa, had picked up the division of Villatte—which properly belonged to his corps—and had then taken the lead in pressing Blake. Lefebvre, reduced to his original force—the 13,000 men of Sebastiani and Leval, followed as far as the end of the defile of El Berron, and then turned off by a flanking road which reaches the upper valley of the Ebro at Medina de Pomar. He intended to strike at Villarcayo and Reynosa, and to intercept Blake’s retreat at one of these two points. If he arrived there before the Galicians, who would be delayed by the necessity of fighting continual rearguard actions with Victor, he hoped that the whole of the Spanish army might be surrounded and captured.

Map of battle of Espinosa

Enlarge Battle of Espinosa. November 11th, 1808.

In this expectation he was disappointed, for matters came to a head before he was near enough to exercise any influence on the approaching battle. On November 10 Blake turned to bay: his rearguard, composed of the troops from the Baltic, had been so much harassed and detained by the incessant attacks of Victor’s leading division, that its commander, the Conde de San Roman, sent to the general to ask for aid. Unless supported by more troops he would be surrounded and cut off. Tempted by the strong defensive position in front of the picturesque old town of Espinosa de los Monteros, Blake directed the rearguard to take post there, and brought up the whole of the rest of his army into line with them. At this point the high-road along the river Trueba, after passing through a small plain (the Campo de Pedralva), reaches a defile almost blocked by the little town of Espinosa, for steep hills descending from each flank narrow the breadth of the passage to half a mile. Here Blake occupied a semicircular position of considerable strength. The troops of San Roman took post at its southern end, on a hill above the high-road, and close to the river’s edge. The line was prolonged to the north of them, across the narrow space of level ground, by the Vanguard Brigade (Mendizabal) and the 3rd Division (Riquelme). Where the ground begins to rise again lay the 1st Division (Figueroa), and on the extreme left, far to the north, the Asturians of Acevedo occupied a lofty ridge called Las PeÑucas. Here they were so strongly placed that it seemed unlikely that they could either be turned or dislodged by a frontal attack. The rest of the army formed a second line: the Reserve Brigade (Mahy) was in the rear of the centre, in the suburb of Espinosa. The 2nd Division (Martinengo) and the small remains of the 4th Division lay behind San Roman, near the Trueba, to support the right wing, along the line of the high-road. The whole amounted to something between 22,000 and 23,000 men, but there were only six guns with the army—the same light battery which had fought at Zornoza. They were posted on the right-centre, with Mendizabal’s brigade, in a position from which they could sweep the level ground in front of Espinosa. Blake also called up to his aid the one outlying force that was within reach, a brigade under General Malaspina, which lay at Villarcayo, guarding the dÉpÔt which had been there established. But these 2,500 men and the six guns which they had with them were prevented, as we shall see, from reaching the field[443].

The position of Espinosa was most defensible: its projecting wings were each strong, and its centre, drawn far back, could not prudently be attacked as long as the flanking heights were in the hands of the Spaniards. But the pursuing French were under the impression that the Galician army was so thoroughly demoralized, and worn out by hunger and cold, that it would not stand. Victor had with him the infantry of his own corps, some 21,000 strong: Villatte’s division, which led the pursuit, dashed at the enemy as soon as it came upon the field. Six battalions drew up opposite the Spanish centre, to contain any sally that it might make, while the other six swerved to the left and made a desperate attack on the division from the Baltic, which held the heights immediately above the banks of the Trueba[444]. San Roman’s troops, the pick of the Spanish army, made a fine defence, and after two hours of hard fighting retained their position.

At this moment—it was about three o’clock in the short winter afternoon—Victor himself came on the scene, bringing with him his other two divisions, the twenty-two battalions of Ruffin and Lapisse. The Marshal was anxious to vindicate himself from the charge of slackness which his master had made against him for his conduct on November 5, and pushed his men hastily to the front. Nine fresh battalions—a brigade of Ruffin’s and a regiment of Lapisse’s division—attacked again the heights from which Villatte had been repulsed[445]. There followed a very fierce fight, and Blake only succeeded in holding his ground by bringing up to the aid of the regiments from the Baltic the whole of his 3rd Division and part of his 2nd. At dusk the heights were still in Spanish hands, and Victor’s corps was obliged to draw back into the woods at the foot of the position.

This engagement was most creditable to Blake’s army: the lie of the ground was in their favour, but considering their fatigue and semi-starvation they did very well in repulsing equal numbers of the best French troops. They were aided by the reckless manner in which Villatte and Victor attacked: it was not consonant with true military principles that the van should commit itself to a desperate fight before the main body came up, or that a strong position should be assailed without the least attempt at a preliminary reconnaissance.

Next day the Marshal, taught caution by his repulse, resumed the action in a more scientific fashion. He came to the conclusion that Blake would have been induced by the battle of the previous day, to strengthen his right, and in this he was perfectly correct. The Spaniard had shifted all his reserves towards the high-road and the banks of the Trueba, expecting to be attacked on the same ground as on the previous day. But Victor, making no more than a demonstration on this point, sent the greater part of Lapisse’s division to attack the extreme left of Blake’s line—the Asturian troops who held the high ridge to the north of Espinosa. Here the position was very strong, but the troops were not equal in quality to the veteran battalions from the Baltic[446]. When the French pressed up the hill covered by a thick cloud of skirmishers, the Asturians fell into disorder. Their general, Acevedo, and his brigadiers, Quiros and Valdes, were all struck down while trying to lead forward their wavering troops. Finally the whole division gave way and fled down the back of the hill towards Espinosa. Their rout left the enemy in possession of the high ground, which completely commanded the Spanish centre, and General Maison, who had led the attack, fully used his advantage. He fell upon the Galician 1st Division from the flank, while at the same moment Victor ordered his entire line to advance, and assailed the whole of Blake’s front. Such an assault could not fail, and the Spaniards gave way in all directions, and escaped by fording the Trueba and flying over the hillsides towards Reynosa. They had to abandon their six guns and the whole of their baggage, which lay parked behind Espinosa. The losses in killed and wounded were not very heavy—indeed many more were hurt in the hard fighting of November 10 than in the rout of November 11: it is probable that the whole of the Spanish casualties did not exceed 3,000 men: nor were many prisoners captured, for formed troops cannot pursue fugitives who have broken their ranks and taken to the hills. The main loss to Blake’s army came from straggling and desertion after the battle, for the routed battalions, when once scattered over the face of the country, did not easily rally to their colours. When Blake reassembled his force at Reynosa he could only show some 12,000 half-starved men out of the 23,000 who had stood in line at Espinosa. The loss in battle had fallen most heavily on the division from the Baltic—their commander, San Roman, with about 1,000 of his men had fallen in their very creditable struggle on the first day of the fight[447]. Victor’s triumph had not been bloodless: in the repulse of the tenth the fifteen battalions which had tried to storm the heights had all suffered appreciable losses: the total of French casualties on the two days cannot have fallen below 1,000 killed and wounded.

To complete the story of Blake’s retreat, it is only necessary to mention that the detached brigade under Malaspina, which he had called up from Villarcayo to Espinosa, was never able to rejoin. On its way it fell in with Marshal Lefebvre’s corps, marching to outflank the retreat of the Galician army. Attacked by Sebastiani’s division, Malaspina had to turn off and make a hasty and isolated retreat, sacrificing his six guns. The driving away of his small force was the only practical work done in this part of the campaign by the 4th Corps: its long turning movement was rendered useless by Blake’s rapid retreat across its front to Reynosa.


SECTION VII: CHAPTER IV

NAPOLEON CROSSES THE EBRO: THE ROUT OF GAMONAL: SOULT’S PURSUIT OF BLAKE

After resting for only thirty-six hours at Bayonne the Emperor, as we have already seen, pushed on to Vittoria, where he arrived on November 6. He found in and about that ancient city the bulk of the Imperial Guard, his brother Joseph’s reserves, the light cavalry of Beaumont and Franceschi, and the heavy cavalry of Latour-Maubourg and Milhaud. The divisions of Marchand and Bisson, which were to complete the corps of Ney, were close behind him, so that he had under his hand a mass of at least 40,000 men. The 2nd Corps, which BessiÈres had so long commanded, was in front of him at Pancorbo, just beyond the Ebro. Victor and Lefebvre, very busy with Blake, lay on his right hand with some 35,000 men. The troops which had hitherto been under Ney, with Moncey’s 3rd Corps, were on his right—the former at LogroÑo, the latter at Caparrosa and Lodosa. They were in close touch with the armies of CastaÑos and Palafox.

All was ready for the great stroke, and on the day of his arrival the Emperor gave orders for the general advance, bidding BessiÈres (whose corps formed his vanguard) to march at once on Burgos and sweep out of it whatever troops he might find in his front. Napoleon imagined that the force in this section of the Spanish line would turn out to be Pignatelli’s ‘Army of Castile,’ but that very untrustworthy body had ceased to exist, and had been drafted into the ranks of the army of Andalusia[448]. It was really with the newly arrived army of Estremadura that the 2nd Corps had to deal.

Everything seemed to promise a successful issue to the Emperor’s plan: the enemy had only a trifling force in front of him at Burgos. Palafox and CastaÑos were still holding their dangerous advanced positions at Sanguesa and Calahorra. Blake was being pursued by Victor, while Lefebvre was marching to intercept him. The only contretemps that had occurred was the temporary check to Villatte’s division on November 5, which had been caused by the carelessness of the Duke of Dantzig and the unaccountable timidity of the Duke of Belluno. But by the seventh their mistakes had been repaired, and Blake was once more on the run, with both marshals in full cry behind him. The Emperor found time to send to each of them a letter of bitter rebuke[449], but told them to push on and catch up the army of Galicia at all hazards. Upon Moncey, on the other hand, he imposed the duty of keeping absolutely quiet in his present position: his share in the game would only begin when CastaÑos and Palafox should have been turned and enveloped by troops detached from the central mass of the army.

The total stay of the Emperor in Vittoria covered parts of four days. All this time he was anxiously expecting decisive news from Victor and Lefebvre, but it had not yet arrived when he set forth. He waited, also in vain, for the news that BessiÈres had occupied Burgos: but that marshal did not show the decision and dash which Napoleon expected from him: finding that there was infantry in the place, he would not risk an action without his master’s presence, and merely contented himself with pushing back the Spanish outposts, and extending his cavalry on both flanks. It is possible that his slackness was due to chagrin on receiving the intelligence that he was about to be superseded in command of the 2nd Corps by Soult, whom the Emperor had summoned out of Germany, and who was due at the front on the ninth. BessiÈres was to be compensated by being given the command of the reserve-cavalry of the army, five splendid divisions of dragoons, of which four were already on the Ebro. But this post, which would always keep him at the Emperor’s heels, was probably less attractive to him than the more independent position of chief of a corps complete in all arms. He was probably loth to leave the divisions with which he had won the victory of Medina de Rio Seco. Be this as it may, he was told to attack Burgos on the sixth, and on the ninth he had not yet done so. On the morning of that day Soult arrived, alone and on a jaded post-horse, having outridden even his aides-de-camp[450], who did not join him till twenty-four hours later. He at once took over command of the 2nd Corps, and proceeded next day to carry out the Emperor’s orders by attacking the enemy.

The supersession of BessiÈres was not the only change which was made during the few days while the Emperor lay at Vittoria. He rearranged the internal organization of several of the corps, altered the brigading of that of Moncey, and turned over to other corps most of the troops which had hitherto served under Ney, leaving to that marshal little more than the two newly arrived divisions from Germany (those of Lagrange and Marchand).

The troops destined for the march on Burgos counted some 70,000 men, but only the 2nd Corps and the cavalry of Milhaud and Franceschi were in the front line. These 18,000 bayonets and 6,500 sabres were amply sufficient for the task. Behind followed fourteen battalions of the Imperial Guard and the cavalry of that corps, the two divisions of Ney’s 6th Corps, the division of Dessolles from King Joseph’s reserve, and two and a half divisions of reserve cavalry—an enormous mass of troops, of which nearly 20,000 were veteran cavalry from Germany, a force invaluable for the sweeping of the great plains of Old Castile[451].

When we turn to enumerate the forces opposed to the Emperor at Burgos, the disproportion between the two armies appears ludicrous. Down to November 6 the only Spanish troops in that ancient city consisted of two battalions, one from the reserves of the army of Galicia, the other from the army of Castile[452]. They numbered 1,600 men, and had four guns with them. If BessiÈres had attacked on the sixth, he would have found no more than this miserable detachment to oppose him. But on November 7 there arrived from Madrid the 1st Division of the army of Estremadura under the Conde de Belvedere, 4,000 foot and 400 horse with twelve guns. On the next day there came up the greater part of the 2nd Division of the same army, about 3,000 infantry and two regiments of hussars. On the tenth, therefore, when Soult attacked, Belvedere—who took the command as the senior general present—had about 8,600 bayonets, 1,100 sabres, and sixteen guns under his orders.

Down to November 2 the army of Estremadura had been commanded by Don Joseph Galluzzo, Captain-General of that province—the officer who had given so much trouble to Dalrymple by his refusal to desist from the futile siege of Elvas. He had been repeatedly ordered to bring his army up to Madrid, but did not arrive till the end of October. On the twenty-ninth of that month he marched for Burgos, his three divisions, 13,000 men in all, following each other at intervals of a day. But on November 2 he received orders to lay down his command and return to Aranjuez, to answer some charges brought against him by the Supreme Junta. No successor was nominated to replace him, and hence the conduct of the army fell into the hands of the Conde de Belvedere, the chief of the 1st Division, a rash and headstrong young aristocrat with no military experience whatever. His family influence had made him a general at an age when he might reasonably have expected to lead a company, and he found himself by chance the interim commander of an army: hence came the astonishing series of blunders that led to the combat of Gamonal.

Belvedere’s army was still incomplete, for his 3rd Division had only reached Lerma, thirty miles back on the Madrid road, when the French cavalry came forward and began to press in his outposts. Clearly a crisis was at hand, and the Count had to consider how he would face it. Isolated with 10,000 men on the edge of the great plain of Old Castile, and with an enemy of unknown strength in front of him, he should have been cautious. If he attempted a stand, he should at least have taken advantage of the ancient fortifications of Burgos and the broken ground near the city. But with the most cheerful disregard of common military precautions, the Count marched out of Burgos, advanced a few miles, and drew up his army across the high-road in front of the village of Gamonal. He was in an open plain, his right flank ill covered by the river Arlanzon, which was fordable in many places, his left completely ‘in the air,’ near the village of Vellimar. In front of the line was a large wood, which the road bisects: it gave the enemy every facility for masking his movements till the last moment. Belvedere had ranged his two Estremaduran batteries on the centre: he had six battalions in his first line, including two of the Royal Guards—both very weak[453]—with a cavalry regiment on each flank. His second line was formed of four battalions—two of them Galician: two more battalions, the four Galician guns, and his third cavalry regiment were coming up from the rear, and had not yet taken their post in the second line when the short and sudden battle was fought and lost[454].

Soult came on the scene during the hours of the morning, with the light-cavalry division of Lasalle deployed in his front. Then followed the dragoons of Milhaud, and three infantry divisions of the 2nd Corps—Mouton in front, then Merle, then Bonnet bringing up the rear. When he came upon the Spaniards, arrayed on either side of the road, the Marshal was able with a single glance to recognize the weakness of their numbers and their position. He did not hesitate for a moment, and rapidly formed his line of battle, under cover of the wood which lay between the two armies. Milhaud’s division of dragoons rode southward and formed up on the banks of the Arlanzon, facing the Spanish right: Lasalle’s four regiments of light cavalry composed the French centre: the twelve battalions of Mouton’s division deployed on the left, and advanced through the wood preceded by a crowd of tirailleurs. There was no need to wait for Merle and Bonnet, who were still some way to the rear.

The engagement opened by a discharge of the two Spanish batteries, directed at those of Mouton’s men who were advancing across the comparatively open ground on each side of the high-road. But they had hardly time to fire three or four salvos before the enemy was upon them. The seven regiments of cavalry which formed the left and centre of the French army had delivered a smashing charge at the infantry opposed to them in the plain. The regiment of Spanish hussars which covered their flank was swept away like chaff before the wind, and the unfortunate Estremaduran and Galician battalions had not even time to throw themselves into squares before this torrent of nearly 5,000 horsemen swept over them. They received the attack in line, with a wavering ill-directed fire which did not stop the enemy for a moment. Five battalions were ridden down in the twinkling of an eye, their colours were all taken, and half the men were hewn down or made prisoners[455]. The remnant fled in disorder towards Burgos. Then Milhaud’s dragoons continued the pursuit, while Lasalle’s chasseurs swerved inwards and fell upon the flank of the surviving half of Belvedere’s army. At the same moment the infantry of Mouton attacked them vigorously from the front. The inevitable result was the complete rout and dispersion of the whole: only the battalion of Walloon Guards succeeded in forming square and going off the field in some order. The rest broke their ranks and poured into Burgos, in a stream of fugitives similar to that which was already rushing through the streets from the other wing. The sixteen Spanish guns were all captured on the spot, those of the second line before they had been unlimbered or fired a single shot.

Belvedere, who was rash and incompetent but no coward, made two desperate attempts to rally his troops, one at the bridge of the Arlanzon, the other outside the city; but his men would not halt for a moment: their only concern was to get clear of the baggage-train which was blocking the road in the transpontine suburb. A little further on the fugitives met the belated battalions of Valencia and Zafra, which had been four or five miles from the field when the battle was lost. The Commander-in-chief tried to form them across the road, and to rally the broken troops upon them: but they cried ‘Treason,’ pretended that their cartridge-boxes were empty, broke their ranks, and headed the flight. Ere night they had reached Lerma, thirty miles to the rear, where the 3rd Division of Estremadura had just arrived.

Napoleon was probably using less than his customary exaggeration when he declared in his Bulletin that he had won the combat of Gamonal at the cost of fifteen killed and fifty wounded. It is at any rate unlikely that his total of casualties exceeded the figure of 200. The army of Estremadura on the other hand had suffered terribly: considering that its whole right wing had been ridden down by cavalry, and that the pursuit had been urged across an open plain for nine miles, it may well have lost the 2,500 killed and wounded and the 900 prisoners spoken of by the more moderate French narrators of the fight[456]. It is certain that it left behind twelve of the twenty-four regimental standards which it carried to the field, and every one of its guns[457].

The French army celebrated its not very glorious victory in the usual fashion by sacking Burgos with every attendant circumstances of misconduct. They were so much out of hand that the house next to that in which the Emperor had taken up his quarters for the night was pillaged and set on fire, so that he had to shift hastily into another street[458].

The night of the tenth was devoted to plunder, but on the following morning Bonaparte resumed without delay the execution of his great plan, and hurried out to the south the heavy masses of cavalry which were to sweep the plains of Old Castile. Lasalle’s division pushed on to Lerma, from which the shattered remnants of the army of Belvedere hastily retired. Milhaud’s dragoons were directed on Palencia, Franceschi’s light cavalry more to the west, along the banks of the Urbel and the Odra. Nowhere, save at Lerma, was a single Spanish soldier seen, but it is said that some of Milhaud’s flying parties obtained vague information of the advance of Sir John Moore’s English army beyond the frontier of Portugal. His vanguard was reported to be at Toro, an utter mistake, for the expeditionary force had not really passed Salamanca on the day when the rumour was transmitted to the Emperor[459]. There is no sign in his dispatches of any serious expectation of a possible British diversion.

On the same day on which the cavalry poured down into the plains of Castile, the Emperor began also to execute the great flanking movements which were to circumvent the armies of Blake and CastaÑos and to drive the one into the Bay of Biscay and the other against the Pyrenees. On the afternoon of the eleventh Soult, with the three divisions of Mouton, Merle, and Bonnet, and Debelle’s cavalry brigade[460], was directed to make forced marches upon Reynosa, by the hilly road that passes by Urbel and Olleros[461]. It was hoped that he might reach Reynosa before Blake, whose retreat towards the west was being closely pressed by Victor and Lefebvre. If he failed to catch the army of Galicia, the Marshal was to push on across the mountains, and occupy the important harbour-town of Santander, where it was known that British stores had been landed in great quantities. Milhaud was to co-operate in this movement by sending from Palencia one of his brigades of dragoons, to cut the road from Reynosa to SaldaÑa, by which the Emperor considered it likely that Blake would send off his heavy baggage and guns when he heard of Soult’s approach[462]. Two days after dispatching Soult to the north-west, the Emperor gave orders for the other great turning movement, which was destined to cut off the army of CastaÑos. On the thirteenth Marshal Ney, with one division of his own corps (that of Marchand) and with the four regiments of Dessolles from the central reserve, together with the light cavalry of Beaumont, had marched from Burgos, in the wake of Lasalle’s advance. On the sixteenth he reached Aranda de Duero, and, having halted there for two days, was then directed to turn off from the high-road to Madrid, and march by Osma and Soria so as to fall upon the rear of CastaÑos, who was still reported to be in the neighbourhood of Tudela[463]. If he could succeed in placing himself at Tarazona before the enemy moved, the Emperor considered that the fate of the Spanish ‘Army of the Centre’ was sealed.

While the movements of Soult and Ney were developing, Napoleon remained at Burgos. He stayed there in all for ten days, while his army passed by, each corps that arrived pressing forward along the high-road to Madrid by Lerma as far as Aranda. His advance on the Spanish capital was not to begin till he was certain how Blake and CastaÑos had fared, and whether there was any considerable body of the enemy interposed between him and the point at which he was about to strike. Meanwhile his correspondence shows a feverish activity devoted to subjects of the most varied kind. A good many hours were devoted to drawing up a scheme for the restoration of the citadel of Burgos: it was the Emperor’s own brain which planned the fortifications that proved such an obstacle to Wellington four years later in September, 1812. It was in these days also that Napoleon dictated the last reply sent to Canning with regard to the peace negotiations that had been started at Erfurt. At the same moment he was commenting on the Code NapolÉon, organizing the grand-duchy of Berg, ordering the assembly of Neapolitan troops for a descent on Sicily, regulating the university of Pisa, and drawing up notes on the internal government of Spain for the benefit of his brother Joseph[464]. But the most characteristic of all his actions was a huge piece of ‘commandeering’ of private property. Burgos was the great distributing centre for the wool-trade of Spain: here lay the warehouses of the flock-masters, who owned the great herds of merino sheep that feed upon the central plateaux of Castile. There were 20,000 bales of wool in the city, not government stores but purely private accumulations. The Emperor seized it all and sold it in France, gloating over the fact that it was worth more than 15,000,000 francs[465].

Neither of the flanking expeditions which the Emperor sent out quite fulfilled his expectations, but that of Soult was worked far more successfully than that of Ney. The Duke of Dalmatia’s corps marched sixty miles over bad Spanish roads in three days—a great feat for infantry—and reached Canduelas close to Reynosa on November 13. If Blake had not already been flying for his life before Victor, he must have been intercepted. But he had made such headlong speed that he had already reached Reynosa only twenty-four hours after his defeat at Espinosa. He had hoped to refit and reorganize his army by means of the vast accumulation of stores collected there, for he had left both Victor and Lefebvre far behind, and calculated on getting several days’ rest. His first act was to begin to evacuate his artillery, baggage, and wounded on to Leon by the road of Aguilar del Campo and SaldaÑa. He intended to follow with the infantry[466], but on the morning of November 14 Soult’s advanced cavalry came upon the flank of the great slow-moving convoy, and captured a considerable part of it. The Asturian general, Acevedo, lying wounded in his carriage, was slain, it is said, by Debelle’s dragoons, along with many other unfortunates. Much of the artillery and all the baggage was taken. The news of this disaster showed Blake that his only road into the plain was cut: no retreat on Leon was any longer possible. At the same moment the approach of Victor along the Espinosa road and of Lefebvre along the Villarcayo road was reported to him. It seemed as if he was doomed to destruction or capture, for all the practicable roads were cut, and the army, though a little heartened up by two days of regular rations at Reynosa, was in the most disorganized condition. But making a desperate appeal to the patriotism of his men, Blake abandoned all his stores, all his wheeled vehicles, even his horses, and struck up by a wild mountain track into the heart of the Asturian hills. He went by the gorge of Cabuerniga, along the rocky edge of the Saja torrent, and finally reached the sea near Santillana. This forced march was accomplished in two days of drenching rain, and without food of any kind save a few chestnuts and heads of maize obtained in the villages of this remote upland. If anything was needed to make Blake’s misery complete it was to be met, at Renedo[467] [November 15], by the news that he was superseded by La Romana, who came with a commission from the Junta to take command of the army of Galicia. After the receipt of the intelligence of Zornoza, the Government had disgraced the Irish general, and given his place to the worthy Marquis. But the latter did not assume the command for some days, and it was left to Blake to get his army out of the terrible straits in which it now lay. On nearing the coast he obtained a little more food for his men from the English vessels that had escaped from Santander[468], waited for his stragglers to come up, and, when he had 7,000 men collected, resumed his march. He sent the wrecks of the Asturian division back to their own province, but resolved to return with the rest of his army to the southern side of the Cantabrian Mountains, so as to cover the direct road from Burgos to Galicia. He had quite shaken off his pursuers, and had nothing to fear save physical difficulties in his retreat. But these were severe enough to try the best troops, and Blake’s men, under-fed, destitute of great-coats and shoes, and harassed by endless marching, were in a piteous state: although they had not thrown away their muskets, very few had a dry cartridge left in their boxes[469]. An English officer who accompanied them described them as ‘a half-starved and straggling mob, without officers, and all mixed in utter confusion[470].’ The snow was now lying deep on the mountains, and the road back to the plains of Leon by Potes and Pedrosa was almost as bare and rough as that by which the troops had saved themselves from the snare at Reynosa. Nevertheless Blake’s miserable army straggled over the defile across the PeÑas de Europa, reached the upper valley of the Esla, and at last got a few days of rest in cantonments around Leon. Here La Romana took up the command, and by December 4 was at the head of 15,000 men. This total was only reached by the junction of outlying troops, for there had come into Leon a few detachments from the rear, and that part of the artillery and its escort which had escaped Soult’s cavalry at Aguilar del Campo. Of Blake’s original force, even after stragglers had come up, there were not 10,000 left: that so many survived is astonishing when we consider the awful march that they had accomplished[471]. Between November 1 and 23 they had trudged for three hundred miles over some of the roughest country in Europe, had crossed the watershed of the Cantabrian Mountains thrice[472] (twice by mere mule-tracks), wading through rain and snow for the greater part of the time, for the weather had been abominable. For mere physical difficulty this retreat far exceeded Moore’s celebrated march to Corunna, but it is fair to remember that Blake had shaken off his pursuers at Reynosa, while the English general was chased by an active enemy from first to last.

While the unhappy army of Galicia was working out its salvation over these rough paths, Soult’s corps had fared comparatively well. On reaching Reynosa on November 14 the Duke of Dalmatia had come into possession of an enormous mass of plunder, the whole of the stores and munitions of Blake’s army. Among the trophies were no less than 15,000 new English muskets and thirty-five unhorsed field-guns. The food secured maintained the 2nd Corps for many days: it included, as an appreciative French consumer informs us, an enormous consignment of excellent Cheshire cheese, newly landed at Santander[473]. At Reynosa Soult’s arrival was followed by that of Victor and Lefebvre, who rode in at the head of their corps the day after the place had been occupied [November 15]. There was no longer any chance of catching Blake, and the assembly of 50,000 men in this quarter was clearly unnecessary. The Emperor sent orders to Victor to march on Burgos and join the main army, and to Lefebvre to drop down into the plains as far as Carrion, from whence he could threaten Benavente and Leon[474]. Soult, whose men were much less exhausted than those of the other two corps, was charged with the occupation of Santander and the pursuit of Blake. He marched by the high-road to the sea, just in time to see seventeen British ships laden with munitions of war sailing out of the harbour[475]. But he captured, nevertheless, a large quantity of valuable stores, which were too heavy to be removed in a hurry [November 16].

The Marshal left Bonnet’s division at Santander, with orders to clear the surrounding district and to keep open the road to Burgos. With the rest of his troops he marched eastward along the coast, trying to get information about Blake’s movements. At San Vincente de la Barquera he came upon the wrecks of the Asturian division which Blake had left behind him when he turned south again into the mountains. They fled in disorder the moment that they were attacked, and the principality seemed exposed without any defence to the Marshal’s advance. But Soult did not intend to lose touch with his master, or to embark on any unauthorized expedition. When he learnt that the Galician army had returned to the plains he followed their example, and crossed the Cantabrian Mountains by a track over the Sierras Albas from Potes to Cervera, almost as impracticable as the parallel defile over which Blake had escaped. Coming down on to the upper valley of the Pisuerga he reached SaldaÑa, where he was again in close communication with Lefebvre.

Blake and his army might now be considered as being out of the game; they were so dispersed and demoralized that they required no more attention. But there was as yet no news of Ney, who had been sent to execute the turning movement against CastaÑos, which corresponded to the one that Soult had carried out against the Galicians. Meanwhile more troops continued to come up to Burgos, ready for the Emperor’s great central march on Madrid. King Joseph and his Guards had arrived there as early as the twelfth; Victor came down from Reynosa on the twenty-first[476], and on the same day appeared the division of dragoons commanded by Lahoussaye[477]. The belated corps of Mortier and Junot were reported to be nearing Bayonne: both generals received orders to march on Burgos, after equipping their men for a serious winter campaign. Independent of the large bodies of men which were still kept out on the two flanks under Soult and Lefebvre, Moncey and Ney, there would soon be 100,000 bayonets and sabres ready for the decisive blow at the Spanish capital.


SECTION VII: CHAPTER V

TUDELA

Having narrated the misfortunes of Blake and of Belvedere, we must now turn to the eastern end of the Spanish line, where CastaÑos and Palafox had been enjoying a brief and treacherous interval of safety, while their friends were being hunted over the Cantabrian Mountains and the plains of Old Castile. From October 26-27—the days when Ney and Moncey drove CastaÑos’ advanced troops back over the Ebro—down to November 21, the French in Navarre made no further movement. We have seen that it was essential to Napoleon’s plan of campaign that the armies of Andalusia and Aragon should be left unmolested in the dangerous advanced position which they were occupying, till measures should have been taken to cut them off from Madrid and to drive them back against the roots of the Pyrenees. The Emperor had left opposite to them the whole of Moncey’s corps, one division of Ney’s corps (that of Lagrange), and the cavalry of Colbert and Digeon[478]—in all about 27,000 bayonets and 4,500 sabres. They had strict orders to act merely as a containing force: to repel any attack that the Spaniards might make on the line of the Ebro or the Aragon, but not to advance till they should receive the orders from head quarters.

The initiative therefore had passed back to the Spanish generals: it was open to them to advance once more against the enemy, if they chose to be so foolish. Their troops were in very bad order for an offensive campaign. Many of them (like Blake’s men) had never received great-coats or winter clothing, and were facing the November frosts and the incessant rain with the light linen garments in which they had marched up from the south. An English observer, who passed through the camps of Palafox and CastaÑos at this moment, reports that while the regulars and the Valencian troops seemed fairly well clad, the Aragonese, the Castilians, and the Murcians were suffering terribly from exposure. The Murcians in especial were shivering in light linen shirts and pantaloons, with nothing but a striped poncho to cover them against the rain[479]. Hence came a terrible epidemic of dysentery, which thinned the ranks when once the autumn began to melt into winter. The armies of CastaÑos and Palafox should have counted 53,000 men at least when the fighting at last began. It seems doubtful whether they actually could put much over 40,000 into the field. CastaÑos claims that at Tudela his own ‘Army of the Centre’ had only 26,000 men in line, and the Aragonese about 16,000. It is probable that the figures are almost correct.

Nevertheless, the generals assumed the responsibility of ordering a general advance. We have shown in an earlier chapter that after the arrival of the three deputies from Madrid, and the stormy council of war at Tudela on November 5, a new plan of offensive operations was adopted. It was not quite so mad as the scheme that had been drafted in October, for seizing the passes of the Pyrenees and surrounding the whole French army. CastaÑos and Palafox, it will be remembered, were to mass the bulk of their forces between Tudela and Caparrosa, cross the Aragon, and deliver a frontal attack upon the scattered fractions of the corps of Moncey at Peralta, Falces, and Lodosa. There would have been something to say for this plan if it had been proposed in September, or early in October; but on November 5 it was hopeless, for it ignored the fact that 80,000 French troops had entered Biscay and Navarre since the middle of October, and that Napoleon himself had reached Vittoria. To advance now was to run into the lion’s mouth.

The armies of Andalusia and Aragon were just beginning to concentrate when, on November 8, a dispatch came in from Blake announcing his disaster at Zornoza, and his hurried retreat beyond Bilbao. The same day there arrived a correct report of the arrival of the Emperor and great masses of French troops at Vittoria, with an inaccurate addition to the effect that they were being directed on LogroÑo and Lodosa, as if about to cross the Central Ebro and fall upon the left flank of the army of Andalusia[480].

CastaÑos, in his Vindication, published to explain and defend his movements during this campaign, stated that his first impulse was to march by LogroÑo and Haro to meet the enemy, or to hasten by Agreda and Soria to interpose himself between the Emperor and Madrid. But, on second thoughts, he resolved that it was more necessary to endeavour to beat the French in his immediate front, and that it would be better to persevere in the plan, drawn up on November 5, for a blow at Moncey. A sharp thrust delivered on this point would distract the attention of the Emperor from Blake, and draw him off the direct road to Madrid. Meanwhile, however, on November 11 CastaÑos fell ill, and took to his bed at Cintruenigo. While he was thus disabled, the deputy Francisco Palafox took the astounding step of issuing orders in his own name to the divisional generals both of the Andalusian and the Aragonese armies. Nothing like this had been seen since the days in the French Revolutionary War, when the ‘Representatives on Mission’ used to overrule the commands of the unhappy generals of the Republic. Before the concentration of the armies was complete, the Deputy ordered the assumption of the offensive at all points in the line: he directed O’Neille, whom he incorrectly supposed to be already at Caparrosa, to attack Moncey at once; bade Grimarest, with the 2nd Andalusian division, to cross the Ebro at Calahorra; La PeÑa to threaten Milagro; and Cartaojal, with a small flanking brigade, to demonstrate against the French troops who lay at LogroÑo. These orders produced utter confusion, for some of the generals obeyed, while others sent the answer that they would not move without the permission of their proper chiefs, CastaÑos and Joseph Palafox. The former got his first notice of the Deputy’s presumptuous action by letters from La PeÑa, delivered to his bedside, in which he was asked whether he had given his sanction to the project for crossing the Ebro[481]. As a matter of fact only Grimarest and Cartaojal moved: the former was sharply repulsed at the fords opposite Calahorra: the latter, more fortunate, skirmished with Lagrange’s division, in front of LogroÑo, without coming to any harm [November 13].

It was now three days since the Emperor had routed Belvedere at Gamonal and entered Burgos, and two days since Blake had been beaten at Espinosa. The conduct of the generals who had charge of the last intact army that Spain possessed, seems all the more insane when we reflect on the general condition of affairs. For on the fourteenth the mad advance which Francisco Palafox advocated was resumed, CastaÑos on his sick bed not having had sufficient energy to lay an embargo on the moving forward of his own troops. On the fourteenth O’Neille arrived at Caparrosa and drove out of it Moncey’s advanced posts, while Grimarest and La PeÑa received new instructions—to push up the Ebro and attack Lodosa, which O’Neille was at the same moment to assail from the other side of the stream. Thus the great river was to be placed between the two halves of the army, which had no communication except by the bridge of Tudela, far to the rear of both. ‘This seems rather a hazardous undertaking,’ wrote Graham in his diary, ‘affording the enemy an opportunity of attacking on whichever side of the river he chooses with superior force.’ But the only thing that prevented it from being attempted was the sudden refusal of O’Neille to advance beyond Caparrosa unless he were provided with 50,000 rations of biscuit, and reinforced at once with 6,000 bayonets from the Army of the Centre [November 18]. As if the situation were not already sufficiently complicated, CastaÑos had on the preceding day received unofficial intelligence[482] from Madrid, to the effect that the Central Junta had determined to depose him, and to appoint the Marquis of La Romana general-in-chief of the Army of the Centre as well as of the Army of Galicia. This really made little difference, as the Marquis was at this moment with Blake’s corps (he had joined it at Renedo on the fifteenth), so that he could not issue any orders for the troops on the Ebro, from whom he was separated by the whole French army. CastaÑos remained at the head of the Andalusians till he was formally superseded, and it was he who was destined to fight the great battle that was now impending. It is hard to say what might have happened had the French held back for a few days more, for now, at the last moment, Joseph Palafox suddenly harked back to his old plan for an advance on Pampeluna and the roots of the Pyrenees, and proposed to CastaÑos that the whole of the Andalusian army save La PeÑa’s division should assist him[483]. CastaÑos and Coupigny strongly opposed this mad idea, and submitted an entirely different scheme to the Captain-General of Aragon, inviting him to bring all his forces to Calahorra, and to join the Army of the Centre in taking up a defensive position behind the Ebro.

The two plans were being hotly debated, when news arrived which proved decisive. The French were at last on the move, and their columns were pouring out of LogroÑo and Lodosa along the southern bank of the Ebro, heading for Calahorra and Tudela [November 21]. On the same day a messenger arrived from the Bishop of Osma, bearing the intelligence that a French corps (he called it that of Dessolles, but it was really Ney) had marched up the head-waters of the Douro to Almazan, and was heading for Soria and Agreda, with the obvious intention of falling upon the rear of the Army of the Centre. If CastaÑos remained for a moment longer at Calahorra, he would clearly be caught between the two French armies. He should have retired at once in the direction of Saragossa, before Ney could reach him: but instead he took the dangerous half-measure of falling back only as far as the line Tudela—Tarazona. This was a safer position than that of Calahorra—Arnedo, but still sufficiently perilous, for the enveloping corps from the south could still reach his rear by a long turning movement through Xalon and Borja.

Map of the battle of Tudela

Enlarge Battle of Tudela. November 23, 1808.

If the position from Tudela, on the banks of the Ebro, to Tarazona at the foot of the Sierra de Moncayo was to be held, the army of CastaÑos needed strong reinforcements, for the line was ten miles long, and there were but 26,000 men to occupy it. The Army of Aragon must be brought up also, and CastaÑos wrote at once to O’Neille at Caparrosa, inviting him to hasten to cross the Ebro and occupy Tudela and its immediate vicinity. The dispatch reached the Irish general late on the afternoon of the twenty-first, but he refused to obey without the permission of his own commander, Joseph Palafox. Thus the night of November 21-22 was lost, but next morning the Aragonese Captain-General appeared from Saragossa, and met CastaÑos and Coupigny. They besought him to bid O’Neille join the Army of the Centre, but at first he refused, even when the forward march of Moncey and the flanking movement of Ney had been explained to him. He still clung to his wild proposal for a blow at Pampeluna, ‘talking,’ says Colonel Graham, ‘such nonsense as under the present circumstances ought only to have come from a madman[484].’ But at the last moment he yielded, and at noon on the twenty-second wrote orders to O’Neille to bring his two divisions to Tudela, and to form up on the right of the Army of Andalusia. When the Aragonese host at last got under weigh, the hour was so late that darkness was falling before the bridge of Tudela was passed. O’Neille then had an unhappy inspiration: he ordered his men to defer the crossing of the Ebro till the following morning, and to cook and encamp on the northern bank. Half of the line which CastaÑos intended to hold next day was still ungarnished with troops when the dawn broke, and soon it was discovered that the French were close at hand.

The approaching enemy were not, as CastaÑos and Palafox supposed, under the command of Moncey and Ney. The latter was carrying out his turning movement by Soria: the former was for the moment superseded. The Emperor regarded the Duke of Conegliano as somewhat slow and overcautious, and for the sudden and smashing blow which he had planned had chosen another instrument. This was Marshal Lannes, who had crossed the Pyrenees with the ‘Grand Army,’ but had been detained for a fortnight at Vittoria by an accident. His horse had fallen with him over a precipice, and he had been so bruised and shaken that his life was despaired of. It appears that the celebrated surgeon Larrey cured him by the strange device of sewing up his battered frame in the skin of a newly flayed sheep[485]. By November 20 he was again fit for service, and set out from LogroÑo with Lagrange’s division of Ney’s corps, Colbert’s light cavalry, and Digeon’s dragoons. Moncey joined him by the bridge of Lodosa, bringing his whole corps—four divisions of infantry and one of cavalry. The protection of Navarre had been handed over to General Bisson, the governor of Pampeluna.

Lannes met with no opposition whatever in his march to Tudela, and easily reached Alfaro on the twenty-second. Here he learnt that the Spaniards were awaiting him beyond the river Queiles, drawn up on a very long front between Tudela and Tarazona. On the morning of the twenty-third he came in sight of them, and deployed for an attack: the state of utter disorder in which the enemy lay gave the best auguries for the success of the imperial arms.

CastaÑos had placed the troops under his immediate command at Tarazona and Cascante, which were destined to form the left and centre of his position: the remainder of it, from Cascante to Tudela, was allotted to the Aragonese and to the Murcian division of the Army of Andalusia, which had been across the Ebro in O’Neille’s company, and was now returning with him. Till they came up CastaÑos had only under his hand two complete divisions of his ‘Army of the Centre,’ and some small fragments of two others. The complete divisions were those of Grimarest (No. 2) and La PeÑa (No. 4), each of which had been increased in numbers but not in efficiency by having allotted to it some of the battalions of the ‘Army of Castile,’ which had been dissolved for its bad conduct at LogroÑo on October 26. There had at last begun to arrive at the front a considerable part of the other two Andalusian divisions, which had first been detained beyond the Sierra Morena by the Junta of Seville, and then kept some time in Madrid to complete their equipment. Two battalions of these belated troops had at last appeared on October 30, and ten more had since come up[486]. But the bulk of the 1st and 3rd Divisions was still absent, and no more than 5,500 men from them had been added to CastaÑos’ army. The mixed brigade formed from these late arrivals seems to have been under General Villariezo, of the 1st Division. The whole force amounted to about 28,000 men, of whom 3,000 were horsemen, for the army of Andalusia was stronger in the cavalry arm than any other of the Spanish hosts. But of these the Murcian and Valencian division of Roca (formerly that of Llamas) was with O’Neille, and had not yet reached the field; while five battalions, from the dissolved Castilian army, were far away on the left in the mountains of Soria, whither CastaÑos had detached them under General Cartaojal, with orders to observe the French corps which was coming up on his rear.

The other half of the Spanish army consisted of the missing division of the Army of the Centre—that of Roca—and the two divisions belonging to Palafox—those of O’Neille and Saint March—the former composed mainly of Aragonese[487], the latter almost entirely of Valencian troops. None of the Aragonese reserves from the great camp at Saragossa had yet come upon the scene. But the two divisions in the field were very strong—they must have had at least 17,000 men in their ranks. On November 1 they were more than 18,000 strong, and, two months after—when they had passed through the disaster of Tudela, and had endured ten days of the murderous siege of Saragossa—they still showed 14,000 bayonets. We cannot calculate them at less than 17,000 men for the battle of November 23. On the other hand, there were hardly 600 cavalry in the whole corps.

It would appear then that CastaÑos must have had some 45,000 men in line, between Tarazona and Tudela, when Lannes came up against him[488]. The French marshal, on the other hand, had about 34,000. On the difference in quality between the two armies we have no need to dilate: even the two divisions of the conscripts of 1807, which served in Moncey’s corps, were old soldiers compared to the armies of Aragon and Castile, or a great part of that of Andalusia. Moreover, as in all the earlier battles of the Peninsular War, the Spaniards were hopelessly outmatched in the cavalry arm. There was no force that could stop the 4,500 or 5,000 horsemen of Colbert, Digeon, and Wathier[489].

The position Tudela—Tarazona, which CastaÑos intended to hold, is of enormous length—about ten and a half miles in all. Clearly 45,000 men in the close order that prevailed in the early nineteenth century were inadequate to hold it all in proper strength. Yet if the points on which the French were about to attack could be ascertained in good time, the distances were not so great but that the army could concentrate on any portion of the line within three hours. But to make this practicable, it was necessary firstly that CastaÑos should keep in close touch with the enemy by means of his cavalry—he had quite enough for the purpose—and secondly that he should have all his men massed at suitable points, from which they could march out to the designated fighting-ground at short notice. The Spanish troops were, now as always, so slow at manoeuvring that the experiment would be a dangerous one, but this was the only way in which the chosen position could possibly be held. The ground was not unfavourable; it consisted of a line of gentle hills along the south bank of the river Queiles, which commanded a good view over the rolling plain across which the French had to advance. On the extreme right was the town of Tudela, covered by a bold hill—the Cerro de Santa Barbara—which overhangs the Ebro. Thence two long ridges, the hills of Santa Quiteria and Cabezo Malla, extend for some two and a half miles in a well-marked line: this section formed the right of the position. From the left of the Cabezo Malla as far as the little town of Cascante—four miles—the ground is less favourable; indeed, it is fairly flat, and the line is indicated mainly by the Queiles and its irrigation-cuts, behind which the Spanish centre was to form[490]. From Cascante westward as far as Tarazona—a distance of four miles or a little over—the position is better marked, a spur of the Sierra de Moncayo coming down in a gentle slope all along the southern bank of the little Queiles. The centre, between the Cabezo Malla and Cascante, was obviously the weak point in the position, as the only obstacle to the enemy’s advance was the river, which was fordable by all arms at every point along this dangerous four miles.

The disaster which CastaÑos was to suffer may be ascribed to two mistakes, one of which was entirely within his own control, while the other was due to the stupidity of O’Neille. With 3,000 cavalry in hand, the Commander-in-chief ought to have known of every movement of the French for many hours before they drew near to the position. It would then have been in his power to concentrate on those parts of the line where the attack was about to be delivered. But instead of sending out his horse ten miles to the front, CastaÑos kept them with the infantry[491], and the first notice of the approach of Lannes was only given when, at nine in the morning, a regiment of Wathier’s cavalry rode right up to the town of Tudela, driving in the outposts and causing great confusion. To the second cause of disaster we have already had occasion to allude: on the night of the twenty-second O’Neille had (contrary to his orders) encamped north of the Ebro. His 17,000 men began to defile over the bridge next morning in a leisurely fashion, and were still only making their way to their designated positions when Lannes attacked. In fact the Spanish line of battle was never formed as had been planned: the various brigades of the Army of Aragon were hurried one after another on to the heights south-west of Tudela, but entirely without system or order: the lower ground to the left of the Cabezo Malla was never occupied at all, and remained as a gap in the centre of the line all through the battle.

Lannes, who was aware that the Spaniards were intending to fight at Tudela, had marched at dawn from his camps in front of Alfaro in two columns. One, composed of Moncey’s corps, with Wathier’s cavalry at its head, came by the high-road near the Ebro. The other, composed of the two independent cavalry brigades of Colbert and Digeon, and of Lagrange’s division, was more to the west, and headed for Cascante. The Marshal had no intention of attacking the left of the Spanish line in the direction of Tarazona, which he left entirely to itself. He met not a single Spanish vedette till Wathier’s cavalry ran into the pickets immediately outside Tudela.

CastaÑos was in the town, engaged in hurrying the march of the Aragonese troops across the great bridge of the Ebro, when the fusillade broke out. The unexpected sound of musketry threw the troops into great excitement, for they were jammed in the narrow mediaeval lanes of Tudela when the sounds of battle came rolling down from the Cerro de Santa Barbara. The Commander-in-chief himself was caught between two regiments and could not push his way out to the field for some time. But the men were quite ready to fight, and hurried to the front as fast as they were able. Roca’s Valencian division (the 5th of the Andalusian army) had been the first to cross the Ebro: it was pushed up to the Cerro de Santa Barbara, and reached its summit just in time to beat off the leading brigade, one from Morlot’s division, which was ascending the hill from the other side. Saint March’s battalions, who had crossed the bridge next after Roca, were fortunate enough to be able to deploy and occupy the hill of Santa Quiteria before they were attacked. But O’Neille’s Aragonese and Murcians were less lucky: they only succeeded in seizing the Cabezo Malla ridge after driving off the skirmishers of Maurice Mathieu’s French division, which had come up next in succession to Morlot, and was just preparing to mount the slope. But the position was just saved, and the Army of Aragon was by ten o’clock formed up along the hills, with its right overhanging the Ebro and its left—quite in the air—established on the Cabezo Malla. The front was somewhat over two miles in length, and quite defensible; but the troops were in great disorder after their hurried march, and the generals were appalled to find that the Army of the Centre had not moved up to join them, and that there was a gap of three miles between the Cabezo Malla and the nearest of the Andalusian divisions. CastaÑos perceived this fact and rode off, too late, to bring up La PeÑa from Cascante to fill the void. Palafox was not on the field: he had gone off at daybreak (still in high dudgeon that his scheme for an attack by Pampeluna had been overruled) and was far on the road to Saragossa.

It is clear that Lannes’ first attack was unpremeditated and ill-arranged: he had been tempted to strike when his vanguard only had come up, because he saw the Spanish position half empty and the Aragonese divisions struggling up in disorder to occupy it. Hence came his first check: but the preliminary skirmish had revealed to him the existence of the fatal gap between the two Spanish armies, and he was now ready to utilize it. While CastaÑos was riding for Cascante, the divisions of Musnier, Grandjean, and Lagrange were coming upon the field, and Lannes was preparing for a second and more serious attack.

Meanwhile the fortune of the day was being settled on the left. When the army of Lannes appeared in the plain, La PeÑa at Cascante should have marched at once towards the Aragonese, and Grimarest and Villariezo from Tarazona should have moved on Cascante to replace La PeÑa’s division at that place. Neither of them stirred, though the situation was obvious, and though they presently received orders from CastaÑos to close in to their right. La PeÑa was the most guilty, for the whole battle-field was under his eye: he would not move because he had before him Digeon’s and Colbert’s cavalry, and was afraid to march across their front in the open plain, protected only by the shallow Queiles. He had 8,000 or 9,000 Andalusian and Castilian infantry, and 1,500 horse, but allowed himself to be neutralized by two brigades of dragoons. All that he did in response to the summons to move eastward was to send two battalions to occupy the hamlet of Urzante, a mile to his right. There was still a space of three miles between him and Saint March. This scandalous and cowardly inaction is in keeping with the man’s later career: it was he who in 1811 betrayed Graham at Barossa, and fled back into safety instead of stopping to assist his allies. On this occasion he lay for four hours motionless, while he watched the French forming up for a second attack on the Army of Aragon. Cowed by the 3,000 dragoons in his front, he made no attempt to march on the Cabezo Malla to O’Neille’s assistance. Grimarest’s conduct was almost equally bad: he was further from the scene of fighting, and could not, like La PeÑa, see the field: but it is sufficient to say that he received CastaÑos’ order to march on Cascante at noon, and that he did not reach that place—four miles distant—till dusk.

The Commander-in-chief himself was most unlucky: he started for Cascante about noon, intending to force his divisional generals to draw near the battle-field. But as he was crossing the gap between O’Neille and La PeÑa he was sighted by some French cavalry, who were cautiously pushing forward through the unoccupied ground. He and his staff were chased far to the rear by this reconnoitring party, and only shook them off by riding hard and scattering among the olive groves. Unable to reach Cascante, he was returning towards Tudela, when he received a hasty note from General Roca to the effect that the right wing of the army had been broken, and the heights of Santa Barbara lost.

When his three belated divisions had appeared Lannes had drawn up his army in two lines, and flung the bulk of it against the Aragonese, leaving only Colbert’s and Digeon’s dragoons and the single division of Lagrange to look after La PeÑa and the rest of the Army of Andalusia.

Instead of sending forward fresh troops, Lannes brought up to the charge for a second time the regiments of Maurice Mathieu and Morlot. Behind the latter Musnier deployed, behind the former Grandjean, but neither of these divisions, as it turned out, was to fire a shot or to lose a man. While Morlot with his six battalions once more attacked the heights above the city, Maurice Mathieu with his twelve attempted both to push back O’Neille and to turn his flank by way of the Cabezo Malla. After a short but well-contested struggle both these attacks succeeded. Morlot, though his leading brigade suffered heavily, obtained a lodgement on top of the Cerro de Santa Barbara, by pushing a battalion up a lateral ravine, which had been left unwatched on account of its difficulty. Others followed, and Roca’s division broke, poured down the hill into Tudela, and fled away by the Saragossa road. Almost at the same moment O’Neille’s troops were beaten off the Cabezo Malla by Maurice Mathieu, who had succeeded in slipping a battalion and a cavalry regiment round their left flank, on the side of the fatal gap. Seeing the line of the Aragonese reeling back, General Lefebvre-Desnouettes, to whom Lannes had given the chief command of his cavalry, charged with three regiments of Wathier’s division at the very centre of the hostile army. He burst through between O’Neille and Saint March’s troops, and then wheeling outward attacked both in flank. This assault was decisive. The whole mass dispersed among the olive groves, irrigation-cuts, and stone fences which cover the plain to the south of Tudela. A few battalions kept their ranks and formed a sort of rearguard, but the main part of Roca’s, Saint March’s, and O’Neille’s levies fled straight before them till the dusk fell, and far into the night. Some of them got to Saragossa next day, though the distance was over fifty miles.

Meanwhile La PeÑa’s futile operations in front of Cascante had gone on all through the afternoon. He had at first nothing but cavalry in front of him, but about three o’clock Lagrange’s division, which had been the last to arrive on the field of all the French army, appeared in his direction. Its leading brigade marched into the gap, wheeled to its right, and drove out of Urzante the two isolated battalions which La PeÑa had placed there in the morning. They made a gallant resistance[492], but had to yield to superior numbers and to fall back on the main body at Cascante[493]. Here they found not only La PeÑa but also Grimarest, and Villariezo’s mixed brigade, for these officers had at last deigned to obey CastaÑos’ orders and to close in to the right. There was now an imposing mass of troops collected in this quarter, at least 18,000 foot and 3,000 horse, but they allowed themselves to be ‘contained’ by Lagrange’s single division and Digeon’s dragoons. Colbert, with the rest of the cavalry, had ridden through the gap and gone off in pursuit of the Aragonese. The remaining hour of daylight was spent in futile skirmishing with Lagrange, and after dark La PeÑa and Grimarest retired unmolested to Borja, by the road which skirts the foot of the Sierra de Moncayo. They were only disturbed by a panic caused by the blowing up of the reserve ammunition of the Army of the Centre. Some of the troops took the explosion for a sudden discharge of French artillery, broke their ranks, and were with difficulty reassembled.

It is impossible to speak too strongly of the shameful slackness and timidity of La PeÑa and his colleagues. If they had been tried for cowardice, and shot after the manner of Admiral Byng, they would not have received more than their deserts. That 20,000 men, including the greater part of the victors of Baylen, should assist, from a distance of four miles only, at the rout of their comrades of the Army of Aragon, was the most deplorable incident of all this unhappy campaign.

From the astounding way in which the Andalusian army had been mishandled, it resulted that practically no loss—200 killed and wounded at the most—was suffered in this quarter, and the troops marched off with their artillery and wagons, after blowing up their reserve ammunition and abandoning their heavy baggage in their camps[494]. The Aragonese had, of course, fared very differently. They lost twenty-six guns—apparently all that they had brought to the field—over 1,000 prisoners, and at least 3,000 killed and wounded[495]. That the casualties were not more numerous was due to the fact that the plain to the south of Tudela was covered with olive-groves, and irrigation-cuts, which checked the French cavalry and facilitated the flight of the fugitives.

Lannes, it is clear, did not entirely fulfil Napoleon’s expectations. He did not take full advantage of the gap between O’Neille and La PeÑa, and wasted much force in frontal attacks which might have been avoided. If he had thrust two divisions and all his horse between the fractions of the Spanish army, before ordering the second attack of Maurice Mathieu and Morlot, the victory would have been far more decisive, and less costly. The loss of the 3rd Corps was 44 killed and 513 wounded; that of Lagrange’s division and the dragoons has not been preserved, but can have been but small—probably less than 100 in all—though Lagrange himself received a severe hurt in the arm. The only regiment that suffered heavily was the 117th, of Morlot’s division, which, in turning Roca off the Cerro de Santa Barbara, lost 303 killed and wounded, more than half the total casualties of the 3rd Corps.

Lannes had carried out indifferently well the part of the Emperor’s great plan that had been entrusted to him; but this, as we have seen, was only half of the game. When CastaÑos and the Aragonese were routed, they ought to have found Marshal Ney at their backs, intercepting their retreat on Saragossa or Madrid. As a matter of fact he was more than fifty miles away on the day of the battle, and arrived with a tardiness which made his flanking march entirely futile. The orders for him to march from Aranda on Soria and Tarazona had been issued on November 18[496], and he had been warned that Lannes would deliver his blow on the twenty-second. But Ney did not receive his instructions till the nineteenth, and only set out on the twentieth. When once he was upon the move he made tremendous marches, for on the twenty-first he had reached Almazan, more than sixty miles from his starting-point: by dusk on the twenty-second he had pushed on to Soria[497], where he halted for forty-eight hours on account of the utter exhaustion of his troops. He had pushed them forward no less than seventy-eight miles in three days, a rate which cannot be kept up. Hence he was obliged to let them spend the twenty-third and twenty-fourth in Soria: at dawn on the twenty-fifth they set out again, and executed another terrible march. It is thirty miles from Soria to Agreda, in the heart of the Sierra de Moncayo, where the 6th Corps slept on that night, and every foot of the way was over villainous mountain roads. Hence Ney only reached Tarazona early on the twenty-sixth, three days after the battle; yet it cannot be said that he had been slow: he had covered 121 miles in six and a half days, even when the halt at Soria is included. This is very fair marching for infantry, when the difficulties of the country are considered. Napoleon ungenerously ascribed the escape of CastaÑos to the fact that ‘Ney had allowed himself to be imposed upon by the Spaniards, and rested for the twenty-second and twenty-third at Soria, because he chose to imagine that the enemy had 80,000 men, and other follies. If he had reached Agreda on the twenty-third, according to my orders, not a man would have escaped[498].’ But, as Marshal Jourdan very truly remarks in his MÉmoires, ‘Calculating the distance from Aranda to Tarazona via Soria, one easily sees that even if Ney had given no rest to his troops, it would have been impossible for him to arrive before the afternoon of the twenty-fourth, that is to say, twenty-four hours after the battle. It is not he who should be reproached, but the Emperor, who ought to have started him from Aranda two days earlier[499].’

Blind admirers of Bonaparte have endeavoured to make out a case against Ney, by accusing him of having stopped at Soria for three days in order to pillage it—which he did not, though he made a requisition of shoes and cloth for great-coats from the municipality. If he is really to blame, it is rather for having worked his men so hard on the twentieth to the twenty-second that they were not fit to march on the twenty-third: he had taken them seventy-eight miles on those three days, with the natural result that they were dead beat. If he had contented himself with doing sixteen or eighteen miles a day, he would have reached Soria on the twenty-third, but his men would have been comparatively fresh, and could have moved on next morning. Even then he would have been late for the battle, as Jourdan clearly shows: the fact was that the Emperor asked an impossibility of him when he expected him to cover 121 miles in four days, with artillery and baggage, and a difficult mountain range to climb[500].

Meanwhile the routed forces of O’Neille, Roca, and Saint March joined at Mallen, and retreated along the high-road to Saragossa, accompanied for part of the way by CastaÑos; while those of La PeÑa, Grimarest, and Villariezo marched by Borja to La Almunia on the Xalon, where their General-in-chief joined them and directed them to take the road to Madrid, not that which led to the Aragonese capital. On the night of the twenty-fifth the Army of Andalusia, minus the greater part of the wrecks of Roca’s division[501], was concentrated at Calatayud, not much reduced in numbers, but already suffering from hunger—all their stores having been lost at Cascante and Tarazona—and inclined to be mutinous. The incredible mismanagement at Tudela was put down to treachery, and the men were much inclined to disobey their chiefs. It was at this unhappy moment that CastaÑos received a dispatch from the Central Junta dated November 21, which authorized him to incorporate the divisions of O’Neille and Saint March with the army of Andalusia, leaving only the Aragonese under the control of Palafox. This order, if given a month earlier, would have saved an enormous amount of wrangling and mismanagement. But it was now too late: these divisions had retired on Saragossa, and the enemy having interposed between them and CastaÑos, the authorization remained perforce a dead letter.

Lannes had directed Maurice Mathieu, with the divisions of Lagrange and Musnier, to follow the Andalusians by Borja, while Morlot and Grandjean pursued the Aragonese on the road of Mallen. The chase does not seem to have been very hotly urged, but on each road a certain number of stragglers were picked up. Ney, reaching Borja on the twenty-sixth with the head of his column, found himself in the rear of Maurice Mathieu, and committed to the pursuit of CastaÑos. Their vanguard reached Calatayud on the twenty-seventh, and learnt that the Army of the Centre had evacuated that city on the same morning, and was pressing towards Madrid, with the intention of taking part in the defence of the capital.

Ney, taking with him Lagrange’s infantry and Digeon’s and Colbert’s cavalry from the troops which fought at Tudela, and adding them to the two divisions of Marchand and Dessolles, which had formed his turning column, urged the pursuit as fast as he was able. Twice he came up with the Spanish army: on each occasion CastaÑos sacrificed his rearguard, which made a long stand and was terribly mauled, while he pushed ahead with his main body. At this cost the army was saved, but it arrived in New Castile half starved and exhausted, and almost as much demoralized as if it had been beaten in a pitched battle. A few days later many of the battalions burst into open mutiny, when they were ordered to retire into the mountains of Cuenca. But at least they had escaped from Ney by rapid marching, and still preserved the form and semblance of an army.

Meanwhile Napoleon, on his side, had begun to operate against Madrid with a speed and sureness of stroke that made futile every attempt of the Spaniards to intervene between him and his goal. The moment that the news of Tudela reached him (November 26) he had hurled his main body upon the capital, and within eight days it was in his hands. The march of the army of Andalusia to cover Madrid was (though CastaÑos could not know it) useless from the first. By hurrying to the aid of the Junta, through Siguenza and Guadalajara, he was merely exposing himself for a second time to destruction. His troops were destined to escape from the peril in New Castile, by a stroke of fortune just as notable as that which had saved them from being cut off on the day after Tudela. But he, meanwhile, was separated from his troops, for on arriving at Siguenza he was met by another dispatch from the Junta, which relieved him of the command of the army of the Centre, and bade him hasten to Head Quarters, where his aid was required by the Central Committee for War. Handing over the troops to the incapable La PeÑa, CastaÑos hastened southward in search of the Junta, whose whereabouts in those days of flight and confusion it was not easy to find.


SECTION VII: CHAPTER VI

PASSAGE OF THE SOMOSIERRA: NAPOLEON AT MADRID

After completing his arrangements for the two sweeping flank-movements that were destined to entrap Blake and CastaÑos, the Emperor moved forward from Burgos on November 22, along the great road to Madrid by Lerma and Aranda de Duero. His advance was completely masked by the broad screen of cavalry which had gone on in front of him. Lasalle was ahead, Milhaud on the right flank, and covered by them he moved with ease across the plain of Old Castile. He brought with him a very substantial force, all the Imperial Guard, horse and foot, Victor and his 1st Corps, and the reserve-cavalry of Latour-Maubourg and Lahoussaye. King Joseph and his household troops were left behind at Burgos, to preserve the line of communication with Vittoria and Bayonne. The flanks were quite safe, with Ney and Moncey lying out upon the left, and Soult and Lefebvre upon the right. In a few days—supposing that the armies of Blake and CastaÑos fell into the snare, or were at least broken and scattered—the Emperor hoped to be able to draw in both Ney and Lefebvre to aid in his enveloping attack upon Madrid. Nor was this all: the corps of Mortier and Junot were now approaching the Pyrenees, and would soon be available as a great central reserve. The whole force put in motion against Madrid was enormous: the Emperor had 45,000 men under his own hand: Ney and Lefebvre could dispose of 40,000 more: Mortier and Junot were bringing up another 40,000 in the rear. Omitting the troops left behind on the line of communication and the outlying corps of Soult and Moncey, not less than 130,000 men were about to concentrate upon Madrid.

The Emperor halted at Aranda from November 23 to 28, mainly (as it would seem) to allow the two great flanking operations to work themselves out. When Soult reported that Blake’s much-chased army had dissolved into a mere mob, and taken refuge in the fastnesses of the Asturias, and when Lannes sent in the news of Tudela, the Emperor saw that it was time to move. On the twenty-eighth he marched on Madrid, by the direct high-road that crosses the long and desolate pass of the Somosierra.

Meanwhile the Spaniards had been granted nineteen days since the rout of Gamonal in which to organize the defence of their capital—a space in which something might have been done had their resources been properly applied and their commanders capable. It is true that even if every available man had been hurried to Madrid, the Emperor must still have prevailed: his numbers were too overwhelming to be withstood. But this fact does not excuse the Junta for not having done their best to hold him back. It is clear that when the news of Gamonal reached them, on the morning of the twelfth, orders should have been sent to CastaÑos to fall back on the capital by way of Calatayud and Siguenza, leaving Palafox and the Aragonese to ‘contain’ Moncey as long as might be possible. Nothing of the kind was done, and the army of the Centre—as we have seen—was still at Tudela on the twenty-third. There was another and a still more important source of aid available: the English army from Portugal had begun to arrive at Salamanca on November 13: its rearguard had reached that city ten days later. With Sir John Moore’s designs and plans of campaign we shall have to deal in another chapter. It must suffice in this place to say that he was now within 150 miles of Madrid by a good high-road: the subsidiary column under Hope, which had with it nearly the whole of the British artillery, was at Talavera, still nearer to the capital. If the Junta had realized and frankly avowed the perils of the situation, there can be no doubt that they would have used every effort to bring Moore to the defence of Madrid. Seven or eight good marches could have carried him thither. But the Spaniards did nothing of the kind: refusing to realize the imminence of the danger, they preferred to urge on Mr. Frere, the newly arrived British minister, a scheme for the union of Moore’s forces with Blake’s broken ‘Army of the Left[502].’ They suggested that Hope’s division might be brought up to reinforce the capital, but that the rest of the British troops should operate in the valley of the Douro. This proposition was wholly inadmissible, for Hope had with him all Moore’s cavalry and most of his guns. To have separated him from his chief would have left the latter incapable of any offensive movement. Hope declined to listen to the proposal, and marched via the Escurial to join the main army[503].

The fact was that the Junta still persisted in the foolish belief that Napoleon had no more than 80,000 men disposable in Northern Spain, instead of the 250,000 who were really at his command. They looked on the French advance to Burgos as a mere reconnaissance in force made by a single corps, and in this notion the imbecile Belvedere did his best to confirm them, by stating in his dispatch that the force which had routed him amounted to no more than 3,000 horse and 6,000 infantry[504]. Instead of calling in CastaÑos and making a desperate appeal for aid to Moore, the Junta contented themselves with endeavouring to reorganize the wrecks of the army of Estremadura, and pushing forward the belated fragments of the 1st and 3rd Andalusian divisions, which still lingered in Madrid, as well as the few Castilian levies that were now available for service in the field. Nothing can show their blind self-confidence more clearly than their proclamation of November 15, put forward to attenuate the ill effects on the public mind of the news of the rout of Gamonal. ‘The Supreme Junta of Government’—so runs the document—‘in order to prevent any more unhappy accidents of this kind, has already taken the most prudent measures; it has nominated Don Joseph Heredia to the command of the army of Estremadura: it has ordered all the other generals of the Army of the Right to combine their movements: it has given stringent orders for the prompt reinforcement of the above-named army.... There is every hope that the enemy, who now boasts of having been able to advance as far as Burgos, will soon be well chastised for his temerity. And if it is certain—as the reports from the frontier assure us—that the Emperor of the French has come in person to inspect the conduct of his generals and his troops in Spain, we may hope that the valiant defenders of our fatherland may aspire to the glory of making him fly, with the same haste with which they forced his brother Joseph to abandon the throne and the capital of which he vainly thought that he had taken possession[505].’

Since they systematically undervalued the number of Napoleon’s host, and refused to believe that there was any danger of a serious attack on Madrid during the next few days, it was natural that the Junta should waste, in the most hopeless fashion, the short time of respite that was granted to them between the rout of Gamonal and Napoleon’s advance from Aranda. They hurried forward the troops that were close at hand to hold the passes of the watershed between Old and New Castile, and then resumed their usual constitutional debates.

The forces available for the defence of Madrid appear absurdly small when we consider the mighty mass of men that Bonaparte was leading against them. Nearly half of the total was composed of the wrecks of the Estremaduran army. Belvedere, as it will be remembered, had brought back to Lerma the remains of his 1st and 2nd Divisions, and rallied them on his intact 3rd Division. The approach of Lasalle’s cavalry on November 11 scared them from Lerma, and the whole body, now perhaps 8,000 or 9,000 strong, fell back on Aranda. From thence we should have expected that they would retire by the high-road on Madrid, and take post in the pass of the Somosierra. But the Estremaduran officers decided to retreat on Segovia, far to the left, leaving only a handful of men[506] to cover the main line of access to the capital. It looks as if a kind of ‘homing instinct’ had seized the whole army, and compelled them to retire along the road that led to their own province. The only explanation given by their commanders was that they hoped to pick up in this direction many of the fugitives who had not rallied to their main body (one cannot say to their colours, for most of them had been captured by the French) on the day after Gamonal[507]. At Segovia the unhappy Belvedere was superseded by Heredia, whom the Junta had sent down from Aranjuez to reorganize the army.

The other troops available for the defence of Madrid consisted mainly of the belated fractions of the army of Andalusia, which CastaÑos had summoned so many times to join him on the Ebro, but which were still, on November 15, in or about Madrid. They were supposed to be completing their clothing and equipment, and to be incorporating recruits. But considering the enormous space of time that had elapsed since Baylen, it is not unfair to believe that the true reason for their detention in the capital had been the Junta’s wish to keep a considerable body of troops in its own immediate neighbourhood. It was convenient to have regiments near at hand which had not passed under the control of any of the generals commanding the provincial armies. There were in Madrid no less than nine battalions of the original division of Reding—all regulars and all corps who had distinguished themselves at Baylen[508]. Of the 3rd Division there were two regular and two old militia battalions[509]. The remainder of the available force in the capital consisted of four battalions of new levies raised in the capital (the 1st and 2nd Regiments of the ‘Volunteers of Madrid’), of one new corps from Andalusia (the 3rd Volunteers of Seville), and of fragments of four regiments of cavalry[510]. The whole division, twelve thousand strong, was placed under the charge of General San Juan, a veteran of good reputation[511]. But he was only a subordinate: the supreme command in Madrid was at this moment in dispute between General Eguia, who had just been appointed as head of the whole ‘Army of Reserve,’ and the Marquis of Castelar, Captain-General of New Castile. The existence of two rival authorities on the spot did not tend to facilitate the organization of the army, or the formation of a regular plan of defence. Eguia, succeeding at last in asserting his authority, ordered San Juan with his 12,000 men to defend the Somosierra, while Heredia with the 9,000 Estremadurans was to hold the pass of the Guadarrama, the alternative road from Old Castile to Madrid via Segovia and San Ildefonso. These 21,000 men were all that could be brought up to resist Napoleon’s attack, since the Junta had neglected to call in its more distant resources. It is clear that from the first they were doomed to failure, for mountain chains are not like perpendicular walls: they cannot be maintained merely by blocking the roads in the defiles. Small bodies of troops, entrenched across the actual summit of the pass, can always be turned by an enemy of superior numbers; for infantry can easily scramble up the flanking heights on each side of the high-road. These heights must be held by adequate forces, arranged in a continuous line for many miles on each side of the defile, if the position is not to be outflanked. Neither Heredia nor San Juan had the numbers necessary for this purpose.

It was open to Napoleon to attack both the passes, or to demonstrate against one while concentrating his main force on the other, or to completely ignore the one and to turn every man against the other. He chose the last-named alternative: a few cavalry only were told off to watch the Estremadurans at Segovia, though Lefebvre and the 4th Corps were ultimately sent in that direction. The main mass of the army marched from Aranda against the Somosierra. San Juan had not made the best of his opportunities: he had done no more than range his whole artillery across the pass at its culminating point, with a shallow earthwork to protect it. This only covered the little plateau at the head of the defile: the flanking heights on either side were not prepared or entrenched. They were steep, especially on the right side of the road, but nowhere inaccessible to infantry moving in skirmishing order. At the northern foot of the pass lies the little town of Sepulveda, which is reached by a road that branches off from the Madrid chaussÉe before it commences to mount the defile. To this place San Juan pushed forward a vanguard, consisting of five battalions of veteran line troops[512], a battery, and half his available cavalry. It is hard to see why he risked the flower of his little army in this advanced position: they were placed (it is true) so as to flank any attempt of the French to advance up the high-road. But what use could there be in threatening the flank of Napoleon’s 40,000 men with a small detached brigade of 3,500 bayonets? And how were the troops to join their main body, if the Emperor simply ‘contained’ them with a small force, and pushed up the pass?

Napoleon left Aranda on November 28: on the twenty-ninth he reached Boceguillas, near the foot of the mountains, where the Sepulveda road joins the great chaussÉe, at the bottom of the pass. After reconnoitring the Spanish position, he sent a brigade of fusiliers of the Guard, under Savary, to turn the enemy out of Sepulveda. Meanwhile he pushed his vanguard up the defile, to look for the position of San Juan. Savary’s battalions failed to dislodge Sarden’s detachment before nightfall: behind the walls of the town the Spaniards stood firm, and after losing sixty or seventy men Savary drew off. His attack was not really necessary, for the moment that the Emperor had seized the exit of the defile, the force at Sepulveda, on its cross-road, was cut off from any possibility of rejoining its commander-in-chief, and stood in a very compromised position. Realizing this fact, Colonel Sarden retreated in the night, passed cautiously along the foot of the hills, and fell back on the Estremaduran army at Segovia. The only result, therefore, of San Juan’s having made this detachment to threaten the Emperor’s flank, was that he had deprived himself of the services of a quarter of his troops—and those the best in his army—when it became necessary to defend the actual pass. He had now left to oppose Napoleon only six battalions of regulars, two of militia, and seven of raw Castilian and Estremaduran levies: the guns which he had established in line across the little plateau, at the crest of the pass, seem to have been sixteen in number. The Emperor could bring against him about five men to one.

The high-road advances by a series of curves up the side of the mountain, with the ravine of the little river Duraton always on its right hand. The ground on either flank is steep but not inaccessible. Cavalry and guns must stick to the chaussÉe, but infantry can push ahead with more or less ease in every direction. There were several rough side-tracks on which the French could have turned San Juan’s position, by making a long circling movement. But Bonaparte disdained to use cautious measures: he knew that he had in front of him a very small force, and he had an exaggerated contempt for the Spanish levies. Accordingly, at dawn on the thirtieth, he pushed up the main defile, merely taking the precaution of keeping strong pickets of infantry out upon the flanking heights.

When, after a march of about seventeen miles up the defile, the French reached the front of San Juan’s position, the morning was very far spent. It was a dull November day with occasional showers of rain, and fogs and mists hung close to the slopes of the mountains. No general view of the ground could be obtained, but the Emperor made out the Spanish guns placed across the high-road, and could see that the heights for some little way on either hand were occupied. He at once deployed the division of Ruffin, belonging to Victor’s corps, which headed his line of march. The four battalions of the 96th moved up the road towards the battery: the 9th LÉger spread out in skirmishing order to the right, the 24th of the Line to the left. They pressed forward up the steep slopes, taking cover behind rocks and in undulations of the ground: their progress was in no small degree helped by the mist, which prevented the Spaniards from getting any full view of their assailants. Presently, for half a mile on each flank of the high-road, the mountain-side was alive with the crackling fire of the long lines of tirailleurs. The ten French battalions were making their way slowly but surely towards the crest, when the Emperor rode to the front. He brought up with him a battery of artillery of the Guard, which he directed against the Spanish line of guns, but with small effect, for the enemy had the advantage in numbers and position. Bonaparte grew impatient: if he had waited a little longer Ruffin’s division would have cleared the flanking heights without asking for aid. But he was anxious to press the combat to a decision, and had the greatest contempt for the forces in front of him. His main idea at the moment seems to have been to give his army and his generals a sample of the liberties that might be taken with Spanish levies. After noting that Victor’s infantry were drawing near the summit of the crest, and seemed able to roll back all that lay in front of them, he suddenly took a strange and unexpected step. He turned to the squadron of Polish Light Horse, which formed his escort for the day, and bade them prepare to charge the Spanish battery at the top of the pass. It appeared a perfectly insane order, for the Poles were not 100 strong[513]: they could only advance along the road four abreast, and then they would be exposed for some 400 yards to the converging fire of sixteen guns. Clearly the head of the charging column would be vowed to destruction, and not a man would escape if the infantry supports of the battery stood firm. But Bonaparte cared nothing for the lives of the unfortunate troopers who would form the forlorn hope, if only he could deliver one of those theatrical strokes with which he loved to adorn a Bulletin. It would be tame and commonplace to allow Victor’s infantry to clear the heights on either side, and to compel the retreat of the Spanish guns by mere outflanking. On the other hand, it was certain that the enemy must be growing very uncomfortable at the sight of the steady progress of Ruffin’s battalions up the heights: the Emperor calculated that San Juan’s artillerymen must already be looking over their shoulders and expecting the order to retire, when the crests above them should be lost. If enough of the Poles struggled through to the guns to silence the battery for a moment, there was a large chance that the whole Spanish line would break and fly down hill to Buitrago and Madrid. To support the escort-squadron he ordered up the rest of the Polish regiment and the chasseurs À cheval of the Guard: if the devoted vanguard could once reach the guns 1,000 sabres would support them and sweep along the road. If, on the other hand, the Poles were exterminated, the Guard cavalry would be held back, and nothing would have been lost, save the lives of the forlorn hope.

General Montbrun led the Polish squadron forward for about half the distance that separated them from the guns: so many saddles were emptied that the men hesitated, and sought refuge in a dip of the ground where some rocks gave them more or less cover from the Spanish balls. This sight exasperated the Emperor: when Walther, the general commanding the Imperial Guard, rode up to him, and suggested that he should wait a moment longer till Victor’s tirailleurs should have carried the heights on each side of the road, he smote the pommel of his saddle and shouted, ‘My Guard must not be stopped by peasants, mere armed banditti[514].’ Then he sent forward his aide-de-camp, Philippe de SÉgur, to tell the Poles that they must quit their cover and charge home. SÉgur galloped on and gave his message to the chef d’escadron Korjietulski: the Emperor’s eye was upon them, and the Polish officers did not shrink. Placing themselves at the head of the survivors of their devoted band they broke out of their cover and charged in upon the guns, SÉgur riding two horses’ lengths in front of the rest. There were only 200 yards to cross, but the task was impossible; one blasting discharge of the Spanish guns, aided by the fire of infantry skirmishers from the flanks, practically exterminated the unhappy squadron. Of the eighty-eight who charged four officers and forty men were killed, four officers (one of them was SÉgur) and twelve men wounded[515]. The foremost of these bold riders got within thirty yards of the guns before he fell.

Having thus sacrificed in vain this little band of heroes, Bonaparte found himself forced, after all, to wait for the infantry. General Barrois with the 96th Regiment, following in the wake of the lost squadron, seized the line of rocks behind which the Poles had taken refuge before their charge, and began to exchange a lively musketry fire with the Spanish battalions which flanked and guarded the guns. Meanwhile the 9th and 24th Regiments on either side had nearly reached the crest of the heights. The enemy were already wavering, and falling back before the advance of Barrois’ brigade, whose skirmishers had struggled to the summit just to the right of the grand battery on the high-road, when the Emperor ordered a second cavalry charge. This time he sent up Montbrun with the remaining squadrons of the Polish regiment, supported by the chasseurs À cheval of the Guard. The conditions were completely changed, and this second attack was delivered at the right moment: the Spaniards, all along the line, were now heavily engaged with Victor’s infantry. When, therefore, the horsemen rode furiously in upon the guns, it is not wonderful that they succeeded in closing with them, and seized the whole battery with small loss. The defenders of the pass gave way so suddenly, and scattered among the rocks with such speed, that only 200 of them were caught and ridden down. The Poles pursued those of them who retired down the road as far as Buitrago, at the southern foot of the defile, but without inflicting on them any very severe loss; for the fugitives swerved off the path, and could not be hunted down by mounted men among the steep slopes whereon they sought refuge. The larger part of the Spaniards, being posted to the left of the chaussÉe, fled westward along the side of the mountain and arrived at Segovia, where they joined the army of Estremadura. With them went San Juan, who had vainly tried to make his reserve stand firm behind the guns, and had received two sword-cuts on the head from a Polish officer. Only a small part of the army fled to the direct rear and entered Madrid.

The story of the passage of the Somosierra has often been told as if it was an example of the successful frontal attack of cavalry on guns, and as if the Poles had actually defeated the whole Spanish army. Nothing of the kind occurred: Napoleon, as we have seen, in a moment of impatience and rage called upon the leading squadron to perform an impossibility, and caused them to be exterminated. The second charge was quite a different matter: here the horsemen fell upon shaken troops already closely engaged with infantry, and broke through them. But if they had not charged at all, the pass would have been forced none the less, and only five minutes later than was actually the case[516]. In short, it was Ruffin’s division, and not the cavalry, which really did the work. Napoleon, with his habitual love of the theatrical and his customary disregard of truth, wrote in the 13th Bulletin that the charge of the Polish Light Horse decided the action, and that they had lost only eight killed and sixteen wounded! This legend has slipped into history, and traces of its influence will be found even in Napier[517] and other serious authors.

The combat of the Somosierra, in short, is only an example of the well-known fact that defiles with accessible flank-slopes cannot be held by a small army against fourfold numbers. To state the matter shortly, fifteen battalions of Spaniards (five of them regular battalions which had been present at Baylen) were turned off the heights by the ten battalions of Ruffin: the cavalry action was only a spectacular interlude. The Spanish infantry, considering that there were so many veteran corps among them, might have behaved better. But they did not suffer the disgrace of being routed by a single squadron of horse as Napoleon asserted; and if they fought feebly their discouragement was due, we cannot doubt, to the fact that they saw the pass packed for miles to the rear with the advancing columns of the French, and knew that Ruffin’s division was only the skirmishing line (so to speak) of a great army.

On the night of November 30, Napoleon descended the pass and fixed his head quarters at Buitrago. On the afternoon of December 1 the advanced parties of Latour-Maubourg’s and Lasalle’s cavalry rode up to the northern suburbs of Madrid: on the second the French appeared in force, and the attack on the city began.

The Spanish capital was, and is, a place incapable of any regular defence. It had not even, like Valencia and Saragossa, the remains of a mediaeval wall: its development had taken place in the sixteenth century, when serious fortifications had gone out of date. Its streets were broad and regular, unlike the tortuous lanes which had been the real strength of Saragossa. Nothing separates the city from its suburbs save ornamental gates, whose only use was for the levy of octroi duties. Madrid is built in a level upland, but there is a rising ground which dominates the whole place: it lies just outside the eastern limit of the city. On it stood the palace of the Buen Retiro (which gives its name to the height), and several other public buildings, among them the Observatory and the royal porcelain manufactory, known as La China. The latter occupied the more commanding and important section of the summit of the hill. Between the Retiro and the eastern side of the city lies the public park known as the Prado, a low-lying open space laid out with fountains, statues, and long avenues of trees. Three broad and handsome streets[518] run eastward and terminate in the Prado, just opposite the Retiro, so that cannon planted either by the palace or by La China can search them from end to end. This was so obvious that Murat, during his occupation of Madrid in April and May, had built three redoubts, one large and two small, facing down into the city and armed with guns of position. The inhabitants of Madrid had partly dismantled them after the departure of the French—and did themselves no harm thereby, for these earthworks were useless for defence against an enemy from without: they could be employed to overawe the city but not to protect it[519].

Ever since the rout of Gamonal, those members of the Junta who were gifted with ordinary foresight must have realized that it was probable that the Emperor would appear ere long before the gates of the capital. But to avoid alarming the excitable populace, the fact was concealed as long as possible, and it was given out that Madrid would be defended at the impregnable Somosierra. It was not till November 25 that any public measures for the fortification of the capital were spoken of. On that day the Junta issued a proclamation placing the charge of the capital in the hands of the Marquis of Castelar, Captain-General of New Castile, and of Don Tomas de Morla, the officer who had won a name by bombarding and capturing the French fleet at Cadiz in June. Under their directions, preparations were begun for putting the city in a state of defence. But the military men had a strong and well-founded belief that the place was indefensible, and that all efforts made to fortify it were labour thrown away: the fight must be made at the Somosierra, not at the gates of Madrid. It was not till the news of the rout of San Juan’s army on the thirtieth came to hand, that any very serious work was executed. But when this disaster was known there was a sudden and splendid outburst of energy. The populace, full of vindictive memories of May 2, were ready and willing to fight, and had no conception of the military weakness of their situation. If Saragossa had defended itself street by street, why, they asked, should not Madrid do the same? Their spirits were so high and their temper so ferocious, that the authorities realized that they must place themselves at the head of the multitude, or be torn to pieces as traitors. On December 1 a Junta of Defence was formed, under the presidency of the Duke of Infantado, in which Morla and Castelar were given a large and heterogeneous mass of colleagues—magistrates, officers, and prominent citizens forming an unwieldy body very unfit to act as an executive council of war. The military resources at their disposal were insignificant: there was a handful of the fugitives from the Somosierra—Castelar estimated them as not more than 300 or 400 in all[520]—and two battalions of new levies from the south, which had arrived only on the morning of December 1. The organized forces then were not more than 2,500 or 3,000 in all. But there was a vast and unruly mob of citizens of Madrid and of peasants, who had flocked into the city to aid in its defence. Weapons rather than men were wanting, for when 8,000 muskets from the Arsenal had been served out, the supply ran short. All private persons owning firearms of any description were invited to hand them in to the Junta: but this resource soon failed, and finally pikes were served out, and even mediaeval weapons from the royal armoury and the family collections of certain grandees. How many men, armed in one way or another, took part in the defence of Madrid will never be known—it cannot have been less than 20,000, and may have amounted to much more.

Not merely the combatants, but the whole population of both sexes turned themselves with absolute frenzy to the work of fortification. In the two days which they had at their disposal they carried out an enormous and ill-compacted scheme for surrounding the whole city with lines. In front of each of the gates a battery was established, formed of earth reveted with paving-stones: to connect these a continuous wall was made, by joining together all the exterior houses of the town with earthworks, or with piles of stones and bricks pulled down from buildings in the suburbs. On several fronts ditches were excavated: the more important streets were blocked with barricades, and the windows and doors of exposed buildings were built up. There were very few engineers at the disposal of the Junta of Defence, and the populace in many places worked not under skilled guidance but by the light of nature, executing enormous but perfectly useless works. ‘The batteries,’ wrote a prominent Spanish witness, ‘were all too small: they were so low that they did not prevent the gates and streets which they defended from being enfiladed: the guns being placed en barbette were much exposed, and were dominated by the artillery which the enemy afterwards placed on the high ground [i.e. the Retiro heights]. The low parapets and the want of proportion between them and their banquettes left the infantry unsheltered: indeed they were harmed rather than helped by the works, for the splinters of the paving-stones which formed the parapets proved more deadly to the garrison than did the enemy’s cannon-balls. The batteries were too low at the flanks, and placed so close to the buildings in their rear that the guns could not easily be worked nor the infantry supports move freely. The gates behind being all of hewn stone, every ball that struck them sent such a shower of fragments flying that the effect was like grape: it forced the defenders to lie flat, and even then caused terrible loss[521].’ It may be added that not only were the works unscientifically executed, but that the most tiresome results were produced by the misguided energy of persons who threw up barricades, or dug cuttings, behind them, so that it was very hard to send up reinforcements, and quite impossible to withdraw the guns from one battery for use in another.

It was natural that these self-taught engineers should neglect the one most important point in the defences of Madrid. The Retiro heights were the key of the city: if they were lost, the whole place lay open to bombardment from the dominating ground. But nothing was done here, save that the old French works round the factory of La China were repaired, the buildings of the palace, barracks, and hospital in the vicinity barricaded, and a low continuous earthwork constructed round the summit of the hill. It should have been turned into a regular entrenched camp, if the city was really to be defended.

The Junta of Defence did its best to preserve order and introduce discipline: all the armed men were paraded in the Prado, told off into bands, and allotted their posts around the circumference of the city. But there were many idle hands, and much confusion: it was inevitable that mobs should collect, with the usual consequences. Cries of ‘Treason’ were raised, some houses were sacked, and at least one atrocious murder was committed. The Marquis of Perales was president of the sub-committee which the Junta had appointed to superintend the manufacture and distribution of ammunition. Among the cartridges given out to the people some were found in which sand had been substituted for powder—probably they were relics of some petty piece of peculation dating back to the times of Godoy. When this was discovered, a furious mob ran to the house of the marquis, beat him to death, and dragged his corpse through the streets on a hurdle[522].

If the populace of Madrid was full of blind self-confidence, and imagined that it had the power to beat off the assault of Napoleon, its leaders were in a much more despondent frame of mind. Morla was one of those who had joined the patriotic party merely because he thought it was the winning side: he was deeply disgusted with himself, and was already contemplating the traitorous desertion to the enemy which has covered his name with eternal disgrace. Castelar seems to have been weak and downhearted. The Duke of Infantado was enough of a soldier to see the hopeless inefficiency of the measures of defence which had been adopted. The only chance of saving Madrid was to hurry up to its aid the two field-armies which were within touch—the old Andalusian divisions (now under La PeÑa), which, by orders of the Supreme Junta, were marching from Calatayud on the capital, and the routed bands of Heredia and San Juan at Segovia. Urgent appeals were sent to both of these hosts to press forward without delay: Infantado himself rode out to meet the army of the Centre, which on this day [Dec. 1] had not long passed Siguenza in its retreat, and was still nearly eighty miles from the capital. He met it at Guadalajara on the next day, in very bad condition, and much reduced by long marches and starvation: with the colours there were only 9,000 foot and 2,000 horse, and these were in a state of half-developed mutiny. The rest of the 20,000 men who had escaped from Tudela were ranging in small bands over the country-side, in search of food, and were not rallied for many days. There was not much to be hoped for from the army of the Centre, and it was evident that it could not reach Madrid till December 3 or 4. The troops of San Juan and Heredia were not so far distant, but even they had fifty-five miles to march from Segovia, and—as it turned out—the capital had fallen before either of the field-armies could possibly come to its aid. Still more fruitless were the attempts made at the last moment to induce Sir John Moore to bring up the British expeditionary force from Salamanca—he was 150 miles away, and could not have arrived before December 7, three days after the capitulation had been signed.

Napoleon dealt with the insurgents of Madrid in a very summary manner. On December 1—as we have already seen—his vedettes appeared before the city: on the morning of the second the dragoons of Lahoussaye and Latour-Maubourg came up in force and invested the northern and eastern fronts of the city. At noon the Emperor himself appeared, and late in the afternoon the infantry columns of Victor’s corps. December 2 was one of Bonaparte’s lucky days, being the anniversary of Austerlitz, and he had indulged in a faint hope that an open town like the Spanish capital might do him the courtesy of surrendering without a blow, like Vienna in 1805, or Berlin in 1806. Accordingly he sent a summons to the Junta in the afternoon; but the Spaniards were in no mood for yielding. General Montbrun, who rode up to the gates with the white flag, was nearly mobbed by enraged peasants, and the aide-de-camp who took the dispatch into the city was only saved from certain death by the exertions of some Spanish officers of the line. The Junta sent him back with the haughty reply that ‘the people of Madrid were resolved to bury themselves under the ruins of their houses rather than to permit the French troops to enter their city.’

Since the ‘sun of Austerlitz’ was not destined to set upon the triumphal entry of the Emperor into the Spanish capital, it became necessary to prepare for the use of force. As a preliminary for an attack on the following morning, Lapisse’s division of Victor’s corps was sent forward to turn the Spaniards out of many isolated houses in front of their line of entrenchments, which were being held as advanced posts. The ground being cleared, preparations could be made for the assault. The moment that Bonaparte cast eyes on the place, he realized that the heights of the Retiro were the key of the position. Under cover of the night, therefore, thirty guns were ranged in line opposite the weak earthworks which crowned the eminence. Artillery in smaller force was placed in front of several of the northern and eastern gates of the city, to distract the attention of the garrison from the critical point. Before dawn the Emperor sent in another summons to surrender, by the hands of an artillery officer who had been captured at the Somosierra. It is clear that he wished, if possible, to enter Madrid without being obliged to deliver up the city to fire and sword: it would be unfortunate if his brother’s second reign were to begin under such unhappy conditions. But it is hard to understand how he could suppose that the warlike frenzy of the Spaniards would have died down between the afternoon of December 2 and the dawn of December 3. All the reply that he obtained was a proposal from the Captain-General Castelar, that there should be a suspension of arms for twelve hours. The sole object of this delay was to allow the Spanish field-armies time to draw nearer to Madrid. Recognizing the fact—which was obvious enough—the Emperor gave orders for an immediate assault. A cannonade was opened against the gates of Los Pozos, the Recoletos, Fuencarral, and several others on the northern and eastern sides of the city. Considerable damage was done to the Spanish defences, but these attacks were all subsidiary. The real assault was delivered against the Retiro heights. The heavy cannonade which was directed against the Spanish works soon opened several breaches. Then Villatte’s division of Victor’s corps was sent in to storm the position, a feat which it accomplished with the greatest ease. The garrison of this all-important section of the defences consisted of a single battalion of new levies—the Regiment of Mazzaredo—and a mass of armed citizens. They were swept out of their works, and pursued downhill into the Prado. Pressing onward among the avenues and fountains, Villatte’s division took in the rear the defenders of the three neighbouring gates, and then, pushing in among the houses of the city, made a lodgement in the palace of the Duke of Medina Celi, and several other large buildings. There was now nothing between the French army and the heart of Madrid save the street-barricades, which the populace had thrown up behind the original lines of defence.

If Napoleon had chosen to send into the fight the rest of Victor’s corps, and had pushed forward the whole of his artillery to the edge of the captured heights, with orders to shell the city, there can be little doubt that Madrid might have been stormed ere nightfall. Its broad streets did not give the facilities of defence that Saragossa had possessed, and the Emperor had at his disposal not a weak and heterogeneous army, such as Verdier had commanded, but more than 40,000 veteran troops. His artillery, too, had on the Retiro a vantage-ground such as did not exist outside the Aragonese capital. Nevertheless the Emperor did not press the attack, and once more sent in a demand for the surrender of the place, at about eleven in the morning of December 3.

The populace of Madrid did not yet recognize its own forlorn state, and was keeping up a vigorous fusillade at the gates and behind the barricades. It had suffered severe loss from the French artillery, owing to the unscientific construction of the defences, but was not yet ready to yield. But the Junta was in a very different frame of mind: the military men thoroughly understood the situation, and were expecting to see a hundred guns open from the crest of the Retiro within the next few minutes. Their civilian colleagues, the magistrates, and local notables were looking forward with no enviable feelings to the conflagration and the general sack that seemed to be at hand. In short the idea of rivalling Saragossa was far from their thoughts. When Napoleon’s letter, offering ‘pardon to the city of Madrid, protection and security for the peaceful inhabitants, respect for the churches and the clergy, oblivion for the past,’ was delivered to the Junta, the majority decided to treat with him. They sent out as negotiators General Morla, representing the military element, and Don Bernardo Iriarte[523], on behalf of the civil authorities. Napoleon treated these delegates to one of those scenes of simulated rage which he was such an adept at producing—his harangue was quite in the style of the famous allocutions to Lord Whitworth and to Metternich. It was necessary, he thought, to terrify the delegates. Accordingly he let loose on Morla a storm of largely irrelevant abuse, stringing together accusations concerning the bombardment of the French fleet at Cadiz, the violation of the Convention of Baylen, the escape of La Romana’s troops from the Baltic, and (strangest of all!) the misconduct of the Spanish troops in Roussillon during the war of 1793-5. He ended by declaring that unless the city had been surrendered by six o’clock on the following morning, every man taken in arms should be put to the sword.

Morla was a very timid man[524], moreover he was already meditating submission to King Joseph: he returned to the Junta in a state of absolute collapse, and gave such a highly coloured account of the Emperor’s wrath, and of the number of the French army, that there was no further talk of resistance. The main difficulty was to stop the promiscuous firing which was still going on at the outposts, and to induce the more exasperated section of the mob to quit the city or to lay down their arms. Many of them took the former alternative: the Marquis of Castelar, resolved to avoid captivity, got together his handful of regular troops, and fled in haste by the road towards Estremadura: he was followed by some thousands of peasants, and by a considerable number of persons who thought themselves too much compromised to be able to remain behind. Having got rid of the recalcitrants, the Junta drew up a form of capitulation in eleven articles, and sent it out to the French camp. Napoleon, anxious above all things to get possession of the city as soon as possible, accepted it almost without discussion, though it contained many clauses entirely inappropriate to such a document. As he did not intend to observe any of the inconvenient stipulations, he did not care to waste time in discussing them[525]. Morla and Fernando de Vera, governor of the city, came back with the capitulation duly ratified by Berthier, and next morning the gates were opened, a division under General Belliard marched in, and the Spaniards gave up their artillery and laid down their muskets without further trouble. After the spasmodic burst of energy which they had displayed during the last four days, the citizens showed a melancholy apathy which surprised the conquerors. There was no riot or confusion, nor were any isolated attempts at resistance made. Hence the occupation of Madrid took place without any scenes of bloodshed or pillage, the Emperor for his part keeping a very stern hand upon the soldiery, and sending in as small a garrison as could safely be allotted to the task.

Madrid having fallen after no more than two days of resistance, the two Spanish field-armies which were marching to its aid were far too late to be of any use. The army of the Centre under La PeÑa had reached Guadalajara at nightfall on December 2: there it was met by the Duke of Infantado, who had come out from Madrid to hurry on the troops. At his solicitation the wearied and disorganized host, with Ney’s corps pressing hard on its heels, marched for San Torcaz and Arganda, thus placing itself in a most dangerous position between the Emperor and the corps that was in pursuit. Fortunately La PeÑa got early news of the capitulation, and swerving southward from Arganda, made for the passage of the Tagus at Aranjuez. But Bonaparte had sent out part of Victor’s corps to seize that place, and when the army of the Centre drew near, it found French troops in possession [December 6]. With Ney behind, Victor in front, and BessiÈres’ cavalry ranging all over the plain of New Castile, the Spaniards were in grave danger. But they escaped by way of Estremera, crossed the ferries on the Upper Tagus, and finally rallied—in a most miserable and disorganized condition—at Cuenca. The artillery, unable to leave the high-road, had been sent off three days before, from Guadalajara towards the kingdom of Murcia, almost without an escort: by a piece of extraordinary luck it escaped without seeing an enemy.

The doings of the disorganized divisions of San Juan and Heredia, which had marched from Segovia on December 2, were much more discreditable. Late on the third they reached the Escurial, some thirty miles from Madrid, and were met by fugitives from the capital, who reported that the Retiro had been stormed, and that the Junta of Defence was debating about a surrender. The two commanders were doubting whether they ought not to turn back, when their troops broke out into mutiny, insisting that the march on Madrid must be continued. After a scene of great disorder the generals gave in, and resumed their advance on the morning of the fourth, just at the moment when Morla was opening the gates to Napoleon. They had only gone a few miles when certain news of the capitulation was received. There followed a disgraceful scene; the cry of treason ran down the ranks: some battalions disbanded themselves, others attacked their own officers, and the whole mass dissolved and went off in panic to Talavera, leaving its artillery abandoned by the wayside. They had not even seen a French vedette, or fired a single shot, yet they fled in utter rout for sixty miles, and only halted when they could run no further. Seven or eight thousand men out of the two armies were got together at Talavera, on the sixth; but when, next morning, San Juan attempted to take up the command again, they raised the idiotic cry that he wished to lead them forward into the midst of Napoleon’s armies in order to force them to surrender! The unfortunate general was hunted down, shot as he was trying to escape from a window, and hung from a large elm-tree just outside the town. This was the most disgraceful scene of the whole campaign in 1808. It was not for some days later that the remnants of this miserable army were reduced to some shadow of discipline, and consented to march under the command of new generals.

It is clear that even if Madrid had held out for a day or two more, by dint of desperate street-fighting, it would have got no effective aid from the armies in the field. We cannot therefore say that the Junta of Defence did much harm by its tame surrender. From the military point of view Madrid was indefensible: on the other hand it was eminently desirable, from the political point of view, that Napoleon should not enter the place unopposed, to be received, as at Vienna or Berlin, by obsequious deputations mouthing compliments, and bearing the keys of the city on silver salvers. It was far better, in the long run, for Spain and for Europe that he should be received with cannon-balls, and forced to fight his way in. This simple fact made all his fictions to the effect that he was only opposed by the rabble, the monks, and the agents of England appear absurd. He could not, after this, pretend to introduce his brother Joseph as a legitimate sovereign quietly returning to his loyal capital. So much was secured by the two days’ resistance of Madrid: on the other hand, when once the French were inside the city, and further resistance would have ended merely in general pillage and conflagration, it would have required more than Spartan resolution for the Junta to go on fighting. If Madrid had been burnt like Moscow, the moral effect on Spain and on Europe would, no doubt, have been enormous. But the heterogeneous council of war, composed of dispirited officers and local notables trembling for their homes, could hardly be expected to see this. They yielded, considering that they had already done enough by way of protest—and even with Saragossa in our mind we should be loth to say that their capitulation was culpable. The one shameful thing about the surrender was that within a few days both Morla, the military head of the defence, and several of the chief civil officials, swore allegiance to Joseph Bonaparte, and took service under him. Such treason on the part of prominent men did more to encourage the invader and to dishearten Spain and her allies than the loss of half a dozen battles. For, when once desertion begins, no one knows where it will stop, and every man distrusts his neighbour as a possible traitor. Madrid, as we have already said, was not a true national capital, nor was its loss a fatal blow; but that its chief defenders should shamelessly throw over the cause of their country, and join the enemy, was a symptom of the most dire and deadly sort. But, fortunately, the fate of the country was not in the hands of its corrupt bureaucracy, but in those of its much-enduring people.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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