From December 4 to December 22 the Emperor remained fixed in the neighbourhood of Madrid. He did not settle down in the royal palace, and it would seem that he made no more than one or two hurried visits of inspection to the city[526]. He established himself outside the gates, at Chamartin, a desolate and uncomfortable country house of the Duke of Infantado, and devoted himself to incessant desk-work[527]. It was here that he drew up his projects for the reorganization of the kingdom of Spain, and at the same time set himself to the task of constructing his plans of campaign against those parts of the Peninsula which still remained unsubdued. In seventeen days, uninterrupted by the cares of travel, Bonaparte could get through an enormous amount of business. His words and deeds at this period are well worth studying, for the light that they throw alike on his own character and on his conceptions of the state and the needs of Spain. His first act was to annul the capitulation which he had granted to the inhabitants of Madrid. Having served its purpose in inducing the Junta to yield, it was promptly violated. ‘The Spaniards have failed to carry it out,’ he wrote, ‘and I consider The arrests were a much more serious matter. In flagrant contravention of the terms of surrender, Bonaparte put under lock and key all the members of the Council of the Inquisition on whom he could lay hands, irrespective of what their conduct had been during the reign of the Supreme Junta. He also declared all the superior officers of the army resident in Madrid, even retired veterans, to be prisoners of war, and liable to answer with their necks for the safety of the captives of Dupont’s corps. Among them was discovered an old French ÉmigrÉ, the Marquis de Saint-Simon, who had entered the service of Charles IV as far back as 1793, and had taken part in the last campaign. The Emperor refused to consider him as a Spaniard, declared that he was one of his own subjects, had him tried by court-martial, and condemned him to death. All this was to lead up to one of those odious comedies of magnanimity which Bonaparte sometimes practised for the benefit of the editor of the Moniteur. Saint-Simon’s daughter was admitted to the imperial presence to beg for her father’s life, and the master of the world deigned to com Among other persons who were arrested were Don Arias Mon, president of the Council of Castile, the Duke of Sotomayor, and about thirty other notables: some were ultimately sent away to France, others allowed to go free after swearing allegiance to Joseph Bonaparte. All these measures were designed to strike terror into the hearts of the Spaniards. But at the same time the Emperor issued a series of decrees—in his own name and not in that of his brother, the titular king—which were intended to conciliate them by bestowing upon them certain tangible benefits. He knew that there existed the nucleus of a Liberal party in Spain, and hoped to draw it over to his side by introducing certain much-needed reforms in the administration of the country. With this object he removed the tiresome inter-provincial octroi duties, abolished all feudal dues and all rights of private jurisdiction, declared that all monopolies should be annulled, and forbade all assignments of public revenues to individuals. Such measures would have seemed excellent to many good Spaniards, if they had been introduced by a legitimate ruler: but coming from the hand of a foreign conqueror they were without effect. Moreover there was hardly a square mile of Spanish territory, outside Madrid and the other towns held by the French, where Napoleon’s writs could run. Every village which was unoccupied was passively or actively disobedient. The reforms, therefore, were but on paper. Another series of decrees, which appeared at the same time, were in themselves quite as justifiable as those which were concerned with administrative changes, but were certain to offend nine-tenths of the Spanish nation. They dealt with the Church and its ministers. The most important was one which declared (with perfect truth) that there were far too many monasteries and nunneries in Spain, and that it was necessary to cut them down to one-third of their existing number. The names of those which were destined to survive were published: to them the inmates of the remaining institutions were The only results of these measures were that every Spaniard was confirmed in his belief that Napoleon was a concealed atheist and an irreconcilable enemy of all religion. Could anything else be expected of one who (in spite of his Concordats and Te Deums) was after all a child of the Revolution? The man who had persecuted the Pope in January, 1808, would naturally persecute the monks of Spain in December. As to the Inquisition, its fate inspired no rejoicing: it had been effete for many years: there was not a prisoner in any of its dungeons. Indeed it had enjoyed a feeble popularity of late, for having refused to lend itself as a tool to Godoy. The only result of Napoleon’s decree for its abolition was that it acquired (grotesque as the idea may seem) considerable credit in the eyes of the majority of the Spanish people, as one of the usurper’s victims. Never was work more wasted than that which the Emperor spent on his reforms of December, 1808. They actually tended to make old abuses popular with the masses, merely because he had attempted to remove them. As to the possibility of conciliating the comparatively small body of Liberals, he was equally in error: they agreed with the views of Jovellanos: reforms were necessary, but they must come from within, and not be imposed by force from without. They were Spaniards first and reformers afterwards. The only recruits whom Bonaparte succeeded in enrolling for his brother’s court were the purely selfish bureaucrats who would accept any government—who would serve Godoy, Ferdinand, Joseph, a red republic, or the Sultan of Turkey The Emperor had a curious belief in the power of oaths and phrases over other men, though he was entirely free himself from any feebleness of the kind. He took considerable pains to get up a semblance of national acceptance of his brother’s authority, now that his second reign was about to begin. Joseph had appeared at Chamartin on December 2[532]: but he was not allowed to re-enter Madrid for many days. The Emperor told him to stay outside, at the royal palace of the Pardo, till things were ready for his reception. This was not at all to the mind of the King, who took his position seriously, and was deeply wounded at being ordered about in such an arbitrary fashion. He sent in a formal protest against the publication of the decrees of December 4: his own name, he complained, not that of his brother, ought to have appeared at the bottom of all these projects of reform. He had never coveted any crown, and least of all that of Spain: but having once accepted the position he could not consent to be relegated into a corner, while all the acts of sovereignty were being exercised by his brother. He was ready to resign his crown into the hands from which he had received it: but if he was not allowed to abdicate, he must be allowed to reign in the true sense of the word. It made him blush with shame before his subjects[533] when he saw them invited to obey laws which he had never seen, much less sanctioned. Napoleon refused to accept this abdication: he looked at matters from an entirely different point of view. He was master of Spain, as he considered, not merely by the cession made at Bayonne, but by the new title of conquest. He intended to restore Joseph to the throne, but till he had done so he saw no reason why he should not exercise all the rights of sovereignty at Madrid. If, in a moment of pique, he said that his brother might exchange the crown of Spain for that of Italy, or for the position of lieutenant of the Emperor in France during his own numerous absences, there is clear evidence that these were empty words. His dispatches show not the least sign of any project for It would seem that Napoleon’s real object in keeping his brother off the scene, and acting as if he intended to annex Spain to France as a vassal province, was merely to frighten the inhabitants of Madrid into a proper frame of mind. If they remained recalcitrant, and refused to come before him with petitions for pardon, they were to be threatened with a purely French military government. If they bowed the knee, they should have back King Joseph and the mockery of liberal and constitutional monarchy which he represented. So much we gather from the Emperor’s celebrated proclamation of December 7, and his allocution to the Corregidor and magistrates of Madrid two days later. Both of these addresses are in the true Napoleonesque vein. In the first we read that if the people of Spain prefer ‘the poisons which the English have ministered to them’ to the wholesome rÉgime introduced from France, they shall be treated as a conquered province, and Joseph shall be removed to another throne. ‘I will place the crown of Spain on my own brow, and I will make it respected by evil-doers, for God has given me the strength and the force of will necessary to surmount all obstacles.’ In the second, which is written in a mood of less rigour, the inhabitants of Madrid are told that nothing could be easier than to cut up Spain into provinces, each governed by a separate viceroy. But if the clergy, nobles, merchants, and magistrates of the capital will swear a solemn oath upon the Blessed Sacrament to be true and loyal for the future to King Joseph, he shall be restored to them and the Emperor will make over to him all his rights of conquest. We In accordance with the Emperor’s command, the notables of Madrid, civil and ecclesiastical, were compelled to go through the ceremony of swearing allegiance to King Joseph on the Holy Sacrament, which was exposed for several days in every church for this purpose. Apparently a very large number of persons were induced, by terror or despair, to give in their formal submission to the intrusive King. Three pages of the Madrid Gazette for December 15 are filled with the names of the deputies of the ten quarters and sixty-four barrios of the city, who joined in the formal petition for the restoration to them of ‘that sovereign who unites so much kindness of heart with such an interest in the welfare of his subjects, and whose presence will be their joy.’ Satisfied with this declaration, and pretending to take it as the expression of the wishes of every Spaniard who was not the paid agent of England or the slave of the Inquisition, the Emperor was graciously pleased to restore Joseph to all his rights. Great preparations were made for his solemn entry, which was celebrated with considerable state in the month of January. But his plans for the reorganization of Spain only formed a part of the Emperor’s work at Chamartin. He was also busied in the reconcentration of his armies, for the purpose of overrunning those parts of the Peninsula which still remained unconquered. On the very morrow of the fall of Madrid he had pushed out detachments It will thus be seen that the troops of Victor, Lefebvre, and Dessolles, with the cavalry of Latour-Maubourg, Lasalle, and Milhaud thrown out in front of them, formed a semicircle protecting Madrid to the east, the south, and the south-west. On the north-west, in the direction of the Guadarrama and the roads towards the kingdom of Leon, the circle was completed by a brigade of Lahoussaye’s division of dragoons, who lay in and about Avila[541]. In the centre, available for a blow in any direction, were the whole of the Imperial Guard (horse and foot), Ney’s corps, Lapisse’s division of Victor’s corps, and Leval’s division of Lefebvre’s corps, besides King Joseph’s Guards—a total of at least 40,000 men. It only needed the word to be given, and these troops (after deducting a garrison for Madrid) could march forward, either to join Lefebvre for a blow at Lisbon, or Victor for a blow at Seville. Meanwhile there were still reinforcements coming up from the rear: the belated corps of Mortier, the last great instalment of the army of Germany, had at last reached Vittoria, accompanied by the division of dragoons of Lorges. The Marshal was directed to take his corps to Saragossa, in order to assist Lannes and Moncey in the siege of that city; but the dragoons were sent to Burgos on the road to Madrid. Moreover Junot’s corps, after having been refitted and reorganized since its return from Portugal, was also available. Its leading division, that of Delaborde, had crossed the Bidassoa on December 4, and had now reached Burgos. The other two divisions, those of Loison and Heudelet (who had replaced Travot at the head of the 3rd Division) were not far behind. They That the Emperor believed that there was no serious danger to be apprehended from the side of Leon and Old Castile, is shown by the fact that he allotted to these regions only the single corps of Soult. Nor had the Duke of Dalmatia even the whole of his troops in hand, for the division of Bonnet was immobilized in Santander, and only those of Merle and Mermet were near his head quarters at Carrion. The cavalry that properly belonged to his corps were detached, under Lasalle, in New Castile. Instead of them he had been assigned the four regiments forming the division of Franceschi[542]. He was promised the aid of Millet’s dragoons when they should arrive, but this would not be for some three weeks at the least. Nevertheless, with the 15,000 foot and 1,800 or 2,000 light cavalry at his disposal, Soult was told that he commanded everything from the Douro to the Bay of Biscay, and that he might advance at once into Leon, as there was nothing in his way that could withstand him[543]. As far as the Emperor knew, the only hostile force in this direction was the miserable wreck of Blake’s army, which had been rallied by La Romana on the Esla. In making this supposition he was gravely mistaken, and if Soult had obeyed his orders without delay, and advanced westward from Carrion, he would have found himself in serious trouble; for, as we shall presently see, the English from Salamanca were in full march against him at the moment when the Emperor dispatched these instructions. It was in the valley of the Douro, and not (as Bonaparte intended) in that of the Tagus that the next developments of the winter campaign of 1808 were to take place. It remains only to speak of the north-east. The Emperor was determined that Saragossa should pay dearly for the renown that Looking at the disposition of the French troops on December 15-20, we can see that the Emperor had it in his power to push the central mass at Madrid, supported by the oncoming reserves under Junot and Lorges, either to support Lefebvre on the road to Lisbon, or Victor on the road to Seville. As a matter of fact there can be no doubt that the former was his intention. He was fully under the impression that the English army was at this moment executing a hasty retreat upon Portugal, and he had announced that his next move was to hurl them into the sea. ‘Tout porte À penser que les Anglais sont en pleine marche rÉtrograde,’ he wrote to Soult on December 10. On December 12 he issued in his Bulletin the statement that the ‘English are in full flight towards Lisbon, and if they do not make good speed the French army may enter that capital before them[544].’ If anything was wanted to confirm the Emperor in his idea that the English were not likely to be heard of in the north, it was the capture by Lasalle’s cavalry of eight stragglers belonging to the King’s German Legion near Talavera. ‘When we catch Hanoverians the English cannot be far off,’ he observed[545], and made all his arrangements on the hypothesis that With pre-conceived ideas of this sort in his head, the Emperor was preparing to push on his main body in support of the advanced troops under Lefebvre and Lasalle on the road to Estremadura and Portugal. Victor meanwhile was to guard against the unlikely chance of any move being made on Madrid by the shattered ‘Army of the Centre’ from Cuenca, or by new Andalusian levies. Already Lasalle’s horsemen were pushing on to Truxillo and Plasencia, almost to the gates of Badajoz and to the Portuguese frontier, when unexpected news arrived, and the whole plan of campaign was upset. Instead of retiring on Lisbon, Sir John Moore had pushed forward into the plains of Old Castile, and was advancing by forced marches to attack the isolated corps of Marshal Soult. Bonaparte was keenly alive, now as always, to the danger of a defeat in the valley of the Douro. Moreover the sight of a British army in the field, and within striking distance, acted on him as the red rag acts upon the bull. No toil or trouble would be too great that ended in its destruction, and looking at his maps the Emperor thought that he saw the way to surround and annihilate Moore’s host. Throwing up without a moment’s delay the whole plan for the invasion of Portugal, he marched for the passes of the Guadarrama with every man that was disposable at Madrid. His spirits were high, and the event seemed to him certain. He sent back to his brother Joseph the command to put in the Madrid newspapers and circulate everywhere the news that 36,000 English troops were surrounded and doomed to destruction[547]. Meanwhile, with 50,000 men at his back, he was marching hard for Arevalo and Benavente. SECTION VIII: CHAPTER IIMOORE AT SALAMANCA It will be remembered that on October 6, 1808, the command of the British forces in Portugal had passed into the hands of Sir John Moore, to the entire satisfaction of Wellesley and the other officers who had served under those slow and cautious generals Sir Hew Dalrymple and Sir Harry Burrard. The moment that the news of Vimiero was received, and long before the details of the Convention of Cintra could come to hand, the Government had determined to send on the victorious British army into Spain, and to assist it with heavy reinforcements from home. Dalrymple was even informed that he might cross the frontier at once, if he chose, without waiting for any detailed instructions from the War Office[548]. Wellesley, as we have seen, thought that his chief should have done so without delay, and observed that if he had charge of affairs the army would be at Madrid by October 1[549]. Yet when Moore took over the command, he found that little or nothing had been done to carry out this design. The delay was partly occasioned by the tardy evacuation of Portugal by Junot’s troops: the last of them, as we have seen[550], did not leave the Tagus till the month of October had begun. But it was still more due to the leisurely and feeble management of Dalrymple, who would not march without detailed and definite orders from home. He might well have begun to move his brigades eastward Meanwhile, it ought at least to have been possible to make preparations in Portugal, even if nothing could be done in Spain. But the question of transport and commissariat was a very difficult one. The British army had struggled from Mondego Bay to Lisbon with the aid of the small ox-wagons of the country-side, requisitioned and dismissed from village to village. But clearly a long campaign in Spain could not be managed on these lines. A permanent provision of draught and pack animals was required, and natives must be hired to drive them. The few regular enlisted men of the Royal Wagon Train who had reached Portugal were only enough to take care of the more important military stores. Moreover their wagons turned out to be much too heavy for the roads of the Peninsula, and had to be gradually replaced by country carts[554]. The great mass of the regimental baggage and the food had always to be transported on mules, or vehicles bought or hired from the peasantry. The Portuguese did not care to contract to take their animals over the frontier, and it was most difficult to collect transport of any kind, even with the aid of the local authorities. When once Moore’s dreadful retreat began, his drivers and muleteers deserted their wagons and beasts, and fled home, resolved that if they must lose their property they would not lose their lives also[555]. In later years Wellington gradually succeeded in collecting a large and invaluable army of Spanish and Portuguese employÉs, who—in their own fashion—were as good campaigners as his soldiery, and served him with exemplary fidelity even when their pay was many months in arrear. But in 1808 this body of trained camp-followers did not exist, and Moore had the greatest difficulty in scraping together the transport that took him forward to Salamanca. As to commissariat arrangements, he found that even though he It was with the greatest difficulty, therefore, that Moore got his army under weigh. He found it, as he wrote to Castlereagh, ‘without equipment of any kind, either for the carriage of the light baggage of regiments, artillery stores, commissariat stores, or any other appendage of an army, and without a magazine formed on any of the routes by which we are to march[557].’ Within ten days, however, the whole force was on the move. The heavy impedimenta were placed in store in Lisbon: it was a thousand pities that the troops did not leave behind their women and children, whose presence with the regiments was destined to cause so many harrowing scenes during the forced marches of the ensuing winter. They were offered a passage to England, but the greater part The direction in which the army was to move had been settled in a general way by the dispatches sent from Castlereagh to Dalrymple in September[558]. It was to be held together in a single mass and sent forward to the Ebro, there to be put in line with Blake and CastaÑos. An attempt on the part of the Junta to distract part of it to Catalonia had been firmly and very wisely rejected. The French were still on the defensive when the plan was drawn out, and Burgos had been named as the point at which the British troops might aim. It was very close to the enemy, but in September neither English nor Spanish statesmen were taking into consideration the probability of the advent of the Emperor, and his immediate assumption of the offensive. They were rather dreaming of an advance towards the Pyrenees by the allied armies. If the large reinforcements which were promised to Moore were destined to land at Corunna, rather than at Gihon or Santander, it was merely because these latter ports were known to be small and destitute of resources, not because they were considered to be dangerously near to the French. La Romana’s division, it will be remembered, was actually put ashore at Santander: it is quite possible that Sir David Baird’s troops might have been sent to the same destination, but for the fortunate fact that it was believed that it would be impossible to supply him with transport from the bare and rugged region of the MontaÑa. Corunna was selected as the landing-place for all the regiments that were to join Moore, partly on account of its safe and spacious port, partly because it was believed that food and draught animals could be collected with comparative ease from Galicia. More than 12,000 men, including three regiments of cavalry (the arm in which the force in Portugal was most deficient) and a brigade of the Guards, had been drawn from the home garrisons. The charge of this fine division had been given to Sir David Baird[559], an officer with a great Indian reputation, but comparatively un By October 18 Moore reported that the greater part of his troops were already in motion, and as Baird’s infantry had reached Corunna on the thirteenth, it might have been expected that the junction of their forces would have taken place in time to enable them to play a part in the defensive campaign against Napoleon which ended in the fall of Madrid on December 4. If the troops had marched promptly, and by the best and shortest routes, they might have easily concentrated at Salamanca by the middle of November: Napier suggests the thirteenth[561] as a probable day, and considering the distances the date seems a very reasonable one. At that moment Gamonal and Espinosa had only just been fought and lost: Tudela was yet ten days in the future: sixteen days were to elapse before the Somosierra was forced. It is clear that the British army, which at Salamanca would have been only seven marches (150 miles) from Madrid, and four marches (eighty miles) from Valladolid, might have intervened in the struggle: whether its intervention might not have ended in disaster, considering the enormous forces of the French[562], is another matter. But the British Government intended that Moore and Baird should take part in the campaign: the Junta had been told to expect their help: and for the consolidation of the alliance between the two nations it was desirable that the help should be given in the most prompt and effective fashion. There is no possibility of asserting that this was done. Moore and Baird did not join till December 20: no British soldier fired a single shot at a Frenchman before December 12[563]. The whole That this circumstance was most unfortunate from the political point of view it would be childish to deny. It gave discontented Spaniards the opportunity of asserting that they had been deserted and betrayed by their allies[564]. It afforded Bonaparte the chance, which he did not fail to take, of enlarging upon the invariable selfishness and timidity of the British[565]. It furnished the critics of the ministry in London with a text for declamations against the imbecility of its arrangements. It is true that after the fall of Madrid Moore was enabled, by the new situation of affairs, to make that demonstration against the French lines of communication in Castile which wrecked Napoleon’s original plan of campaign, and saved Lisbon and Seville. But this tardy though effective intervention in the struggle was a mere afterthought. Moore’s original plan had been to make a tame retreat on Lisbon, when he discovered that he was too late to save Madrid. It was a mere chance that an intercepted dispatch and an unfounded rumour caused him to throw up the idea of retiring into Portugal, and to strike at the Emperor’s flank and rear by his famous march on Sahagun. Without this piece of good fortune he would never have repaired the mischief caused by the lateness of his original arrival on the scene. How that late arrival came to pass it is now our duty to investigate. As far as Moore’s own army was concerned, the loss of time may be ascribed to a single cause—a mistake made in the choice of the roads by which the advance into Spain was conducted. It was the original intention of the British general to march on Almeida and Ciudad Rodrigo by three parallel routes, those by Coimbra and Celorico, by Abrantes, Castello Branco, and Guarda, and by Elvas, Alcantara, and Coria[566]. He was compelled to utilize Moore had the best intentions: he cut down the baggage to what he considered the smallest practicable bulk, and started off the leading regiments on the Coimbra route as easily as October 11, two days after he had taken over the command[567]. ‘I am sufficiently aware,’ he wrote, ‘of the importance of even the name of a British army in Spain, and I am hurrying as much as possible[568].’ Then followed an irreparable mistake: it was all-important to find out which of the roads was most suitable for artillery and heavy baggage. Moore consulted the available officers of the old Portuguese army, and received from them the almost incredibly erroneous information that neither the Coimbra—Celorico—Almeida road nor the Abrantes—Guarda—Almeida road was practicable for artillery. It would seem that he also sought information from the officers whom Dalrymple had sent out into the province of Beira, and that their answers tallied with those of the Portuguese[569], for he wrote to Castlereagh that ‘every information agreed that neither of them was fit for artillery or could be recommended for cavalry.’ General Anstruther, then in command at Almeida, must take a considerable share in the blame that has to be distributed to those who failed to give the Commander-in-chief accurate information, Misled by the erroneous reports as to the impracticability of the Portuguese roads, Moore took the unhappy step of sending six of the seven batteries of his corps, his only two cavalry regiments, and four battalions of infantry to act as escort[574], by the circuitous high-road from Elvas to Madrid. In order to reach Salamanca they were to advance almost to the gates of the Spanish capital, only turning off at Talavera, in order to take the route by the Escurial, Espinar, and Arevalo. To show the result of this lamentable divagation, it is only necessary to remark that from Lisbon to Salamanca via Coimbra is about 250 miles: from Lisbon to Salamanca via Elvas, Talavera, and Arevalo is about 380 miles: i.e. it was certain that the column containing all Moore’s cavalry and nearly all his guns would be at least seven or eight days late at the rendezvous, in a crisis when every moment was of vital importance. As a matter of fact the head of the main column reached Salamanca on November 13: the cavalry and guns turned up on December 4. It would not be fair, however, to say that the absence of Hope’s column delayed the advance of the whole army for so much as three weeks. It was only the leading regiments from Lisbon that appeared on November 13. However carefully the march of the rest had been arranged, the rear could not have come in till several days later: indeed the last brigade did not appear till the twenty-third: this delay, however, was owing to bad arrangements and preventable accidents. But it cannot be denied that the twelve days Nov. 23-Dec. 4 were completely sacrificed by the non-arrival of the cavalry and guns, without which Moore very wisely refused to move forward. If the army had been concentrated—Baird could easily have arrived from Corunna ere this—it would have been able to advance on November 23, and the campaign would undoubtedly have been modified The erroneous direction given to Moore’s cavalry and guns, however, was not the only reason for the late appearance of the British army upon the theatre of war. Almost as much delay was caused by a piece of egregious folly and procrastination, for which the Spaniards were wholly responsible. When Sir David Baird and the bulk of his great convoy arrived in the harbour of Corunna on October 13, he was astonished to find that the Junta of Galicia raised serious objections to allowing him to land. Their real reason for so doing was that they wished the British troops to disembark further east, at Gihon or Santander. They did not realize the military danger of throwing them ashore in places so close to the French army, nor did it affect them in the least when they were told that the equipment of Baird’s force in those barren regions would be almost impossible. All that they cared for was to preserve Galicia from the strain of having to make provisions for the feeding and transport of a second army, when all its resources had been sorely tried in supplying (and supplying most indifferently) the troops of Blake. They did not, however, make mention of their real objections to Baird’s disembarkation in their correspondence with him, but assumed an attitude of very suspicious humility, stating that they considered their functions to have come to an end now that the Central Junta had met, and that they thought it beyond their competence to give consent to the landing of such a large body of men without explicit directions from Aranjuez. Baird could not offer to land by force, in face of this opposition. He did not, however, move off to Santander (as the Galicians had hoped), but insisted that an officer should be promptly dispatched to the Supreme Junta. This was done, but the delay in receiving an answer was so great that thirteen days were wasted: the Galician officer bearing the consent of the central government travelled (so Moore complained) with the greatest deliberation, as if he were carrying an unimportant message in full time of peace[576]. The first regiments, therefore, only landed on October 26, and it was not till November 4 that all the infantry were ashore. Thus they were certain to be late at the rendezvous in the plains of Leon. Nor was this all: the Supreme Junta had suggested that, in order to facilitate the feeding of the division, Baird should send it forward not in large masses but in bodies of 2,000 men, with a considerable interval between them. But what between the Junta’s folly in hindering the landing of the troops, and the unfortunate lack of money in the second half of October, all-important time was lost. Baird ought to have been near Salamanca by November 13: as a matter of fact he had only reached Astorga with three brigades of infantry and some artillery, but without a single mounted man to cover his march, on November 22. There he received, to his infinite dismay, the news that Blake had been routed at Espinosa on November 11, and Belvedere at Gamonal on November 10. There was now no Spanish army between him and the French: the latter might be advancing, for all he knew, upon Leon. He heard of Soult being at Reynosa, and Lefebvre at Carrion: if they continued their advance westward, they would catch him, with the 9,000 infantry of the Corunna column, marching across their front on the way to Salamanca. Appalled at the prospect, he halted at Astorga, and, after sending news of his situation to Moore, began to prepare to retreat on Corunna, if the marshals should continue their movement in his direction. This, as we have already seen, they did not: Napoleon had no knowledge of the position of the British troops, and instead of ordering the dukes of Dalmatia and Dantzig to push westward, moved them both in a southerly direction. Soult came down to Sahagun and Carrion: Lefebvre, on being relieved by the 2nd Corps, moved on Madrid by way of Segovia. Thus Baird, left entirely unmolested, was in the end able to join Moore. It is time to turn to the movements of that general. After sending off Sir John Hope on his unhappy circular march by Badajoz and the Escurial, he set out from Lisbon on October 26. He took with him the whole force in Portugal, save a single division which was left behind to protect Lisbon, Elvas, and Almeida while a new native army was being reorganized. This detachment was to be commanded by Sir John Cradock, who was just due from England: it comprised four battalions of the German Legion, a battalion each of the 9th, 27th, 29th, 31st, 40th, 45th, and 97th Foot, the wrecks of the 20th Light Dragoons, and six batteries of artillery—about 9,000 men in all. The rest, The march was a most unpleasant one, for the autumn rains surprised the troops in their passage through the mountains. Moreover some of the regiments were badly fed, as Sataro, the Portuguese contractor who had undertaken to supply them with meat, went bankrupt at this moment and failed to fulfil his obligations. Nevertheless the advance was carried out with complete success: the men were in good heart, marched well, and generally maintained their[581] discipline. On November 13 the leading On November 23, then, the British commander-in-chief lay at Salamanca, with six infantry brigades and one battery. Baird lay at Astorga, with four brigades and three batteries: a few of his battalions were still on the march from Galicia. Hope, with Moore’s cavalry and guns, was near the Escurial. Lord Paget with Baird’s equally belated cavalry, which had left Corunna on the fifteenth, was between Lugo and Astorga. The situation was deplorable, for it was clear that the army would require ten days more to concentrate and get into full fighting order, and it was by no means certain that those ten days would be granted to it. Such were the unhappy results of the false direction given to Hope’s column, and of the enforced delay of Baird at Corunna, owing to the folly of the Galician Junta. It may easily be guessed that Moore’s state of mind at this moment was most unenviable. He had received, much at the same time as did Baird, the news of Gamonal and Espinosa. He was aware that no screen of Spanish troops now lay between him and the enemy. He had heard of the arrival of Milhaud’s dragoons at Valladolid, and of Lefebvre’s corps at Carrion, and he expected every moment to hear that they were marching forward against himself. Yet he could not possibly advance without cavalry or guns, and if attacked he must fly at once towards Portugal, for it would be mad to attempt to fight in the plains with no force at his disposition save a mass of foot-soldiery. If the French moved forward from Valladolid to Zamora on the one side, or to Avila on the other, he would inevitably be cut off from Baird and Hope. The question, then, which Moore had to put to himself was whether he should persist in attempting to complete the concentration of his army, and in case of success take an active part in the campaign, or whether he should simply order each fraction of the British forces to retreat at once towards some safe base. The way in which the question should be answered depended mainly on two points—what would be the movements of the French during the next few days, and what Spanish troops existed to co-operate with the British army, in case it were determined to commence active operations. For clearly the 30,000 men of Moore and Baird could To explain Moore’s action, it is necessary to remember that he started with a strong prejudice against trusting the British army to the mercy of Spanish co-operation. He had been receiving very gloomy reports both from Mr. Stuart, the temporary representative of the British Government at Aranjuez, and from Lord William Bentinck, the military agent whom Dalrymple had sent to Madrid. The latter was one of the few British officers who (like Wellesley) foresaw from the first a catastrophe whenever the French reinforcements should cross the Ebro[583]. Moreover the character of Moore’s correspondence with the Central Junta, before and during his advance, had conspired with the reports of Stuart and Bentinck to give him a very unfavourable idea of the energy and administrative capacity of our allies. He had been vexed that the Junta refused to put him in direct communication with the Spanish generals[584]. He complained that he got from them tardy, unfrequent, and inaccurate news of the enemy’s movements. He was disgusted that Lopez, the officer sent to aid him in moving his troops, turned out to know even less about the roads of the Spanish frontier than he did himself. But above all he professed that he was terrified by the apathy which he found both among the officials and the people of the kingdom of Leon and Old Castile. He had been politely received by the authorities both at Ciudad Rodrigo and at Salamanca, but he complained that he got little but empty compliments from them. There was some truth in this allegation, though certain facts can be quoted against it[585], even from Moore’s own correspondence. As a matter of fact, the people’s hearts were sound enough[586], but they had still got ‘Baylen on the brain’: they simply failed to These appeals were intolerable to a man who dared not advance because his army (partly by his own fault, partly owing to circumstances that had not been under his control) was not concentrated. From the point of view of policy, Moore knew that it was all-important that he should take the field: but, from the point of view of strategy, he saw that an advance with the 15,000 men that he had at Salamanca might very probably lead to instant and complete disaster. He refused to move, but all the time he knew that his refusal was having the worst effect, and would certainly be represented by his critics as the result of timidity and selfishness. It was this consciousness that caused him to fill his dispatches with the bitterest comments on the Spanish government and people. He had been induced to advance to Salamanca, he said, by false pretences. He had been told that there was a large army in front of him, ready to cover his concentration. He had been informed All that Moore wrote was true: yet, granting the accuracy of every premise, his conclusion that he ought to retire to Portugal was not necessarily correct. The British Government had undoubtedly over-estimated the power and resources of Spain: the Supreme Junta had shown no capacity for organization or command: most of the Spanish generals had committed gross military blunders. But none of these facts were enough to justify Moore in washing his hands of the whole business, and marching out of Spain without firing a shot. He had not been sent to help the patriots only if they were powerful and victorious, to desert them if they proved weak and unlucky. If these had been the orders Yet in a moment of irritation at the mismanagement that he saw before him, and of anger at the continual importunities that he was receiving from the Central Junta and from Mr. Frere, Moore nearly committed this fault. The last piece of news which broke down his resolution and drove him to order a retreat was the account of the battle of Tudela. If he had been forced to wait for the notification of this disaster through Spanish official sources, he might have remained ignorant of it for many days. But Charles Vaughan, the secretary of Mr. Stuart, had been in the camp of Palafox, and had ridden straight from Tudela to Madrid, and from Madrid to Salamanca—476 miles in six days[591]. He brought the intelligence of CastaÑos’ defeat to the English commander-in-chief on the night of November 28. Moore lost not a moment in dictating orders of retreat to the whole army. In the few hours that elapsed before midnight he gave his own troops directions to The spirit in which Moore acted is shown by the wording of his letter to Hope:—‘I have determined to give the thing up, and to retire. It was my wish to have run great risks to fulfil what I conceive to be the wishes of the people of England, and to give every aid to the Spanish cause. But they have shown themselves equal to do so little for themselves, that it would only be sacrificing this army, without doing any good to Spain, to oppose it to such numbers as must now be brought against us. A junction with Baird is out of the question, and with you, perhaps, problematical.... This is a cruel determination for me to make—I mean to retreat: but I hope you will think the circumstances such as demand it[592].’ To Moore, weighed down by the burden of responsibility, and worried by the constant pressure of the Spaniards at Madrid, ‘who expected every one to fly but themselves,’ this resolve to retreat seemed reasonable, and even inevitable. But it was clearly wrong: when he gave the order he was overwrought by irritation and despondency. He was sent to aid the Spaniards, and till he was sure that he could do absolutely nothing in their behalf, it was his duty not to abandon them. The British army was intended to be used freely in their cause, not to be laid up—like the talent in the napkin—lest anything might happen to it. Its mere presence at Salamanca was valuable as an encouragement to the Spaniards, and a check on the free movement of the French. Above all, it was not yet proved that the concentration with Baird and Hope was impossible: indeed, the events of the last few days were rendering it more and more likely that the junction might, after all, take place. The French cavalry which had appeared at Valladolid had gone off southward, without any attempt to move in the direction of Salamanca. Soult and Lefebvre were also moving in a direction which would not bring them anywhere near the British army. Hope had crossed the Guadarrama unhindered, and was now near Villacastin, only seventy miles from Moore’s head quarters. Under these circumstances it was most impolitic Fortunately for his own reputation and for that of England, his original intentions of the night of November 28 were not fully carried out. Only Baird’s column actually commenced its retrograde movement. That general received Moore’s letter from Vaughan on the thirtieth, and immediately began to retire on Galicia. Leaving his cavalry and his light brigade at Astorga, to cover his retreat, he fell back with the rest of his division to Villafranca, fifty miles on the road towards Corunna. Here (as we shall see) he received on December 6 a complete new set of orders, countermanding his retreat and bidding him return to the plains of Leon. Hope also had heard from Moore on the thirtieth, had been informed that the army was to retire on Portugal, and was told to make forced marches by PeÑaranda and Ciudad Rodrigo to join his chief—unless indeed he were forced to go back by the way that he had come, owing to the appearance of French troops in his path. Fortunately no such danger occurred: Hope arranged his two cavalry regiments as a screen in front of his right, in the direction of Arevalo and Madrigal. He hurried his infantry and guns by Fontiveros and PeÑaranda, along the road that had been pointed out to him. The cavalry obtained news that patrols of French dragoons coming from the north had pushed as far as Olmedo and La Nava—some sixteen or eighteen miles from their outposts—but did not actually see a single hostile vedette. This SECTION VIII: CHAPTER IIIMOORE’S ADVANCE TO SAHAGUN Moore’s determination to retreat on Portugal lasted just seven days. It was at midnight on November 28-29 that he wrote his orders to Baird and Hope, bidding the one to fall back on Corunna and the other on Ciudad Rodrigo. On the afternoon of December 5 he abandoned his scheme, and wrote to recall Baird from Galicia: on the tenth he set out on a very different sort of enterprise, and advanced into the plains of Old Castile with the object of striking at the communications of the French army. We have now to investigate the curious mixture of motives which led him to make such a complete and dramatic change in his plan of campaign. Having sent off his dispatches to Hope and Baird, the Commander-in-chief had announced next morning to the generals who commanded his divisions and brigades his intention of retreating to Portugal. The news evoked manifestations of surprise and anger that could not be concealed. Even Moore’s own staff did not succeed in disguising their dismay and regret[595]. The army was looking forward with eagerness to another campaign against the French under a general of such well-earned reputation as their present chief: a sudden order to retreat, when the enemy had not even been seen, and when his nearest cavalry vedettes were still three or four marches away, seemed astounding. There would have been remonstrances, had not Moore curtly informed his subordinates that ‘he had not called them together to request their counsel, or to induce them to commit themselves to giving any opinion on the subject. He was taking the whole responsibility entirely upon himself: and he only required that they would immediately prepare to carry it into effect.’ In face of this speech there could be no argument or opposition: but there was After announcing this determination, it might have been expected that Moore would fall back at once on Almeida. But while beginning to send back his stores and his sick[596], he did not move his fighting-men: the reason (as he wrote to Castlereagh[597]) was that he still hoped that he might succeed in picking up Hope’s division, if the French did not press him. Accordingly he lingered on, waiting for that general’s approach, and much surprised that the enemy was making no advance in his direction. It was owing to the fact that he delayed his departure for five days, on the chance that his lost cavalry and guns might after all come in, that Moore finally gained the opportunity of striking his great blow and saving his reputation. During this period of waiting and of preparation to depart, appeals from many quarters came pouring in upon Moore, begging him to advance at all costs and make his presence felt by the French. The first dispatches which he received were written before his determination to retreat was known: after it was divulged, his correspondents only became the more importunate and clamorous. Simultaneous pressure was brought to bear upon him by the British ambassador at Aranjuez, by the Supreme Junta, by the general who now commanded the wrecks of the Spanish army of Galicia, and by the military authorities at Madrid. Each one of them had many and serious considerations to set before the harassed Commander-in-chief. Moore had been so constantly asserting that Blake’s old ‘Army of the Left’ had been completely dispersed and ruined, that it must have been somewhat of a surprise to him when the Marquis of La Romana wrote from Leon, on November 30, to say that he was now at the head of a considerable force, and hoped to co-operate in the oncoming campaign. The Galicians had rallied in much greater All that the Marquis stated was perfectly true: his army was growing rapidly, for his muster-rolls of December 4 showed that he had already 15,600 men with the colours, exclusive of sick and wounded: ten days later the number had gone up to 22,800[599]. This was a force that could not be entirely neglected, even though the men were in a dire state of nakedness, and were only just recovering from the effects of their dreadful march from Reynosa across the Cantabrian hills. Moore had always stated, in his dispatches to Castlereagh, that there was no Spanish army with which he could co-operate. He was now offered the aid of 15,000 men, under a veteran officer of high reputation and undoubted patriotism. The proposal to retreat on Portugal seemed even less honourable than before, when it involved the desertion of the Marquis and his much-tried host. Not long after the moment at which La Romana’s dispatch came to hand, there arrived at Salamanca two officers deputed by the Central Junta to make a final appeal to Moore. These were Don Ventura Escalante, Captain-General of the kingdom of Granada, and the Brigadier-General Augustin Bueno. They had started from Aranjuez on November 28, and seem to have arrived at the British head quarters on December 3 or 4. They brought a letter from Don Martin de Garay, the secretary to the Junta, stating that they were authorized to treat with Moore for the drawing up of a plan of campaign, ‘by which the troops of his Britannic Majesty may act in concert with those of Spain, accelerating a combined movement, and avoiding the delays that It is clear that the mission of Escalante and Bueno had no great share in determining Sir John to abandon his projected retreat on Portugal, though it may possibly have had some cumulative effect when taken in conjunction with other appeals that were coming in to him at the same moment. It was quite otherwise with the dispatches which he received from the authorities at Madrid, and from the British ambassador at Aranjuez: in them we may find the chief causes of his changed attitude. The Madrid dispatch was written by Morla and the Prince of Castelfranco—the two military heads of the Junta of Defence which had been created on December 1—in behalf of themselves and their colleagues. It was sent off early on December 2, before Napoleon had begun to press in upon the suburbs, for it speaks of the city as menaced, not as actually attacked by the enemy. It amounted to an appeal to Moore to do something to help Madrid—not necessarily (as has been often stated) to throw himself into the city, but, if he judged There is no reason to think, with Napier and with Moore’s biographer[603], that this dispatch was written by Morla with the treacherous intent of involving the British army in the catastrophe that was impending over the capital. Morla ultimately betrayed his country and joined King Joseph, but there is no real proof that he contemplated doing so before the fall of Madrid. The letter was signed not only by him but by Castelfranco, of whose loyalty there is no doubt, and who was actually arrested and imprisoned by Bonaparte. Moreover, if it had been designed to draw Moore into the Emperor’s clutches, it would not have given him the perfectly sound advice to fall upon the communications of the French army after uniting with La Romana—the precise move that the British general made ten days later with such effect. It would have begged him to enter Madrid, without suggesting any other alternative. Moore had always stated that his reluctance to advance into Spain had been due, in no small degree, to the apathy which he had found there: but now the capital, as it seemed, was about to imitate Saragossa and to stand at bay behind its barricades. He had no great confidence in its power to hold out. ‘I own,’ he wrote to Castlereagh, ‘that I cannot derive much hope from the resistance of one town against forces so formidable, unless the In his earlier epistles to Moore Frere had deprecated the idea of a retreat, and had suggested that if for military reasons an advance Charmilly handed in his first document on the evening of December 5, a few hours after Morla’s messenger had delivered the appeal from Madrid. Moore received him in the most formal way, dismissed him, and began to compare Frere’s information with that of the Junta of Defence, of the emissaries from Aranjuez, and of his other English correspondents. Putting all together, he felt his determination much shaken: Madrid, as it seemed, was really about to defend itself: the preparations which were reported to him bore out the words of Morla and Castelfranco. His own army was seething with discontent at the projected retreat: Hope being now only one march away, at Alba de Tormes, he could no longer plead that he was unable to advance because he was destitute of cavalry and guns. Moreover, he was now so far informed as to the position—though not as to the numbers—of the French, that he was aware that there was no very serious force in front of himself or of Baird: everything had been turned on to Madrid. Even the 4th Corps, of which Hope had heard during his march, was evidently moving on Segovia and the Guadarrama. Contemplating the situation, Moore’s resolution broke down: he knew what his army was saying about him at the present moment: he guessed what his government would say, if it should chance that Madrid made a heroic defence while he was retreating unpursued on Lisbon and Almeida. A man of keen ambition and soldierly feeling, he could not bear to think that he might be sacrificing If only Moore had discovered on November 13, instead of on December 5, that events at Madrid were important, and that his country’s wishes and his duty required him to take a practical interest in them, the winter campaign of 1808 would have taken—for good or evil—a very different shape from that which it actually assumed. Meanwhile his resolve came too late. Madrid had actually capitulated thirty-six hours before he received the letters of Morla and of Frere. Moreover the offensive could not be assumed till Baird should have retraced his steps from Villafranca, and returned to the position at Astorga from which his wholly unnecessary retreat had removed him. A painful and rather grotesque scene had to be gone through on the morning of December 6. Colonel Charmilly had been received by Moore on the previous night in such a dry and formal manner, that it never occurred to him that the letter which he had delivered was likely to have had any effect. Accordingly he presented himself for the second time next morning, with Frere’s supplementary epistle, taking it for granted that retreat was still the order of the day, and making the demand for the assembly of a Council of War. Moore, fresh from the severe mental struggle which attended the reversal of all his plans, was in no mood for politeness. Righteously indignant at what seemed to him both a deliberate personal insult, and an intrigue to undermine his authority with his subordinates, he burst out into words of anger and contempt, and told his provost-marshal to expel Charmilly from the camp without a moment’s delay[611]. When this had been done, he sat down to write a dispatch to Frere, in which his conscientious desire to avoid hard words with a British minister struggled in vain with his natural resentment. He began by justifying his original resolve to retreat; and then informed his correspondent that ‘I should never have thought of asking your opinion or advice, as the determination was founded on circumstances with which you could not be acquainted, and was a question Moore had kept his temper more in hand than might have been expected, considering the provocation that he had received: the same cannot be said for Frere, whose next letter, written from Truxillo on December 9, ended by informing the general that ‘if the British army had been sent abroad for the express object of doing the utmost possible mischief to the cause of Spain, short of actually firing upon the Spanish troops, they would have most completely fulfilled their purpose by carrying out exactly the measures which they have taken[614].’ This was unpardonable language from one official writing a state paper to another, and it is regrettable to find that Frere made no formal apology for it in his later dispatches. Even when he discovered that Moore was actually executing a diversion against the communications of the French army, he only wrote that he was ‘highly gratified’ to find that they were at last agreed on the advisability of such a It is, therefore, with all the greater satisfaction that we now pass on to the second part of the campaign of the British army in Spain, wherein Moore showed himself as resourceful, rapid, and enterprising as he had hitherto appeared slow and hesitating. Having once got rid of the over-caution which had hitherto governed his movements, and having made up his mind that it was right to run risks, he showed that the high reputation which he enjoyed in the British army was well deserved. Moore’s first intention, as is shown by his orders to Baird and his letters to Castlereagh, was merely to disturb the French communications by a sudden raid on Valladolid, or even on Burgos. If Madrid was really holding out, the Emperor would not be able to send any large detachment against him, unless he made up his mind to raise the siege of the capital. It was probable that Bonaparte would consider the destruction of an English army of even more importance than the prosecution of the siege, and that he would come rushing northward with all his army. In that case, as Moore wrote to Baird, ‘we shall have a run for it,’ but Madrid would be saved. In short, Napoleon was to be treated like the bull in the arena, who is lured away from a fallen adversary by having a red cloak dangled before his eyes. Supposing that the main force of the French were turned upon him, Moore was In the unlikely event of Bonaparte’s persisting in the siege of Madrid, and sending only small detachments against the British army, Moore thought that he would be strong enough to make matters very unpleasant for the enemy in Old Castile. If he beat the forces immediately opposed to him, and seized Valladolid and Burgos, the Emperor would be compelled to come north, whether he wished it or no. All these plans were perfectly reasonable and well concerted, considering the information that was at Moore’s disposition on December 6. But that information was based on two false premises: the one was that Madrid was likely to hold out for some little time—Moore never supposed that it could be for very long, for he remained fixed in his distrust of Spanish civic virtues: the second was that the French army in the north of Spain did not amount to more than 80,000 or 100,000 men, an estimate which had been repeated to him by every Spaniard with whom he had communicated, and which had been confirmed, not only by Frere, but by Stuart and other English correspondents in whom he had some confidence. If he had known that the French had entered Madrid on December 4, and that they numbered more than 250,000 bayonets and sabres, his plans would have been profoundly modified[616]. Moore’s original intention was to move on Valladolid, a great centre of roads, and a sort of halfway-house between Burgos and Madrid. Meanwhile, Baird was to come down from Astorga via Benavente, and to converge on the same point. A cavalry screen in front of the combined force was formed, by pushing the two regiments which belonged to Moore’s own corps towards Alaejos and Tordesillas, on the south bank of the Douro; while Baird’s cavalry brigade, under Lord Paget, made a forced march from Astorga to Toro, and extended itself north of the river. Moore’s infantry was not to move till the tenth, but that of Baird was already returning as fast as it could manage from Villafranca to Astorga. The unfortunate orders of retreat, issued on November 29, had cost Sir David six marches, three from Astorga to Villafranca and three from Villafranca to Astorga—time lost in the most miserable and unnecessary fashion. One of his brigades, that of General Leith[617], was now so far off that it never managed to overtake the army, and was out of the game for something like a fortnight. But the rest, which had only to return from Villafranca[618], succeeded in joining the main body in much better time than might have been expected. The fact was that the news of an advance had restored the high spirits of the whole army, and the men stepped out splendidly through the cold and rainy winter days, and easily accomplished their twenty miles between dawn and dusk. Moore, meanwhile, was occupied at Salamanca in making the last preparations for his advance. He had already sent back into Portugal one large convoy on December 5, escorted by the fifth battalion of the 60th Regiment. He now dispatched another which marched by Ciudad Rodrigo, where it picked up the 3rd Foot, who guarded it back to Portugal[619]. The two between them contained all his heavy baggage, and all the sick from his base hospital who could bear transport—probably more than 1,500 invalids: for the total number of the sick of the army was very nearly 4,000, and the larger half of them must have belonged to Moore’s own corps, Moore had, of course, given notice to La Romana of his change of plan: in response to his letter of December 6 the Marquis expressed his pleasure at the prospect of the union of the allied armies, and his wish to co-operate to the best of his power[622]. He had now collected 20,000 men—a formidable army on paper—and was certain to do his best, but what that might amount to was very doubtful. It was well known that a great part of his troops were not fit to move: but it was not till a few days later that Moore received definite intelligence as to the exact amount of military aid that might be furnished by the army of the Left. The British troops were fully committed to their new plan of campaign—Baird was hastening back to Astorga, the sick and the convoys had started for Portugal, the cavalry had pushed well to the front—when Moore suddenly received a piece of intelligence which profoundly modified the situation. Madrid had fallen into Considering Moore’s earlier doubts and hesitations, we should almost have expected that this news would have induced him to throw up his whole plan for an advance into Old Castile, and once more to order a retreat on Almeida. But he evidently considered that he was now committed to the raid on Bonaparte’s lines of communication, and thought that, even if he could not save Madrid, he could at least distract the enemy from an attempt to push further south, and give the Spanish armies time to rally. There was a chance, as he wrote to Castlereagh[624], that he might effect something, and he should take it, committing himself to Fortune: ‘If she smiles we may do some good: if not, we shall still I hope have the merit of having done all that we could. The army, for its numbers, is excellent, and is (I am confident) quite determined to do its duty.’ On December 11 the infantry at last began to move forward from Salamanca—a month all but two days had elapsed since its vanguard reached that city. On that day the reserve division, under General E. Paget, and Beresford’s brigade of Fraser’s division marched for Toro, where they found Lord Paget with Baird’s cavalry, ready to cover their advance. These troops were to form the left-hand column of the advance on Valladolid. On the next day Hope’s detachment from Alba de Tormes, and the brigades of Bentinck, Fane, Hill, and Charles Alten from Salamanca, which formed the right-hand column, marched for Alaejos and Tordesillas. In front of them was Charles Stewart’s cavalry brigade, On the thirteenth Moore himself came up from Salamanca to Alaejos, where he overtook the infantry. Stewart’s cavalry meanwhile pushed on to Tordesillas and Medina del Campo, without coming across any traces of the French. At Tordesillas they found themselves in touch with Lord Paget’s horsemen on the other side of the Douro, who had also met with no opposition whatever. On the fifteenth the whole army would have converged on Valladolid, if Moore’s original intention had been carried out. But a fortunate accident intervened to prevent this march, which would have placed the British troops nearer to Madrid and to the Emperor than did the route which they finally adopted. There was brought to Moore at Alaejos an intercepted dispatch from Berthier to Soult, containing the most valuable information. The officer bearing it had been sent off from Madrid without an escort, according to the Emperor’s usual habit—a habit that cost the lives of some scores of unfortunate aides-de-camp during the first year of the Peninsular War. It was only by experience that Napoleon and his marshals learnt that isolated officers travelling in this fashion were devoted in Spain to probable death and possible torture, as Marbot (after a personal experience of the kind) bitterly observed. The bearer of this particular dispatch had been murdered by peasants at the post-house of Valdestillos, near Segovia. The document was full of invaluable facts and details. It informed Soult that with his existing force—the two infantry divisions of Merle and Mouton, and the four cavalry regiments of Moore was thus placed in possession of the Emperor’s plan of campaign, and of the dislocation of the greater part of his army. Most important of all, he discovered that his own position and designs were wholly unsuspected. His mind was soon made up: Soult, as it seemed, with his 15,000 or 16,000 men at SaldaÑa and Carrion, was about to move forward into Leon. He would thus be placed at an enormous distance from the Emperor, and would have no solid supports save the leading division of Junot’s corps, which must now be drawing near to Burgos. If he advanced, the whole British army, aided by whatever troops La Romana could produce, might be hurled upon him. The results could not be Accordingly, on December 15, the whole army suddenly changed its direction from eastward to northward. The left-hand column of the infantry crossed the Douro at Zamora, the right-hand column at Toro. The cavalry, screening the march of both, went northward from Tordesillas to the banks of the Sequillo, pushing its advanced parties right up to Valladolid, and driving back the dragoons of Franceschi, several of whose detachments they cut off, capturing a colonel and more than a hundred men. They intercepted the communications between Burgos and Madrid to such effect that Bonaparte believed that the whole British army was moving on Valladolid, and drew up his first plan of operations under that hypothesis[628]. Meanwhile four good marches [December 16-20] carried Moore’s infantry from Zamora and Toro by the route Villalpando—Valderas to Mayorga. The weather was bitterly cold, which in one way favoured the movement, for the frost hardened the country roads, which would otherwise have been mere sloughs of mud. A little snow fell from time to time, but not enough to incommode the troops. They marched well, kept their discipline, and left few sick or stragglers behind. This was the result of good spirits, for they had been told that they would meet the French before the week was out. At Mayorga the junction with Baird’s column was safely effected. When the army had thus completed its concentration, Sir John Moore, for reasons which it is not quite easy to understand, rearranged all its units. He formed it into four divisions and two During this march Moore at last got full information as to the state of La Romana’s troops, and the aid that might be expected from them. The Marquis himself, writing to contradict a false report that he was retiring on Galicia, confessed that two-thirds of his 20,000 men wanted reclothing from head to foot, and that there was a terrible want of haversacks, cartridge-boxes, and shoes. He complained bitterly that the provinces (i.e. Asturias and Galicia) were slack and tardy in forwarding him supplies, and laid much of the blame on them[629]. But he would move forward the moment he could be assisted by Baird’s troops in pressing the French in his front. He reported that Soult had 10,000 infantry Romana’s description of his army did not sound very promising. But a confidential report from an English officer who had visited his cantonments gave an even less favourable account of the Galicians. Colonel Symes had seen four of the seven divisions which formed the ‘Army of the Left.’ He wrote that the soldiers were ‘in general, stout young men, without order or discipline, but not at all turbulent or ferocious. Their clothing was motley, and some were half-naked. Their manoeuvres were very confusedly performed, and the officers were comparatively inferior to the men. The equipment was miserable: of sixteen men of General Figueroa’s guard only six had bayonets. The springs and locks of the muskets often did not correspond. A portion of them—at least one-third—would not explode, and a French soldier could load and fire his piece with precision thrice, before a Spaniard could fire his twice.’ Of the three divisions which he saw reviewed at Leon, one (the 5th, the old troops from the Baltic) seemed superior to the rest, and was armed with good English firelocks: there was also a corps of light troops, 1,000 men in uniform, who might be called respectable[631].... Without undervaluing the spirit of patriotism of the Spaniards, which might in the end effect their deliverance, the writer of the report could only say that they were not, and for a very long time could not be, sufficiently improved in the art of war to be coadjutors in a general action with the British: if any reliance were placed on Spanish aid in the field, terrible disappointment must result: ‘we must stand or fall through our own means[632].’ Colonel Symes doubted whether La Romana would even dare to take his troops into the field at all—wherein he did the Marquis grave injustice: he had every intention of doing his best—though that best turned With this document before him, Moore must have found a certain grim humour in the perusal of a letter from the Supreme Junta, which reached him at Toro on December 16, informing him that La Romana would join him with 14,000 ‘picked men,’ and that within a month 30,000 more Asturian and Galician levies should be at his disposal. This communication was brought to him by Francisco Xavier Caro, the brother of the Marquis, who was himself a member of the Junta. With him came Mr. Stuart, as an emissary from the British minister, bringing the last of those unhappy epistles which Frere had written before he knew that the plan of retreating on Portugal had been given up. We have already quoted one of its insulting phrases on page 524: the rest was in the same strain. Fortunately, it could be disregarded, as Moore was actually advancing on the enemy, with a definite promise of help from La Romana. Caro professed to be much delighted that the Junta’s hopes were at last obtaining fruition. Stuart expressed surprise and grief at the tone of Frere’s letters, and ‘seemed not much pleased at his mission[633].’ This was the last of the many troubles with the British and Spanish civil authorities which were destined to harass the Commander-in-chief. For the future it was only military cares that were to weigh upon his mind. On December 20 the army had concentrated at Mayorga. Somewhat to his disappointment Moore discovered that Soult had not begun the advance on Leon which Berthier’s intercepted dispatch had ordered. Either no duplicate of it had been received by the Marshal, or he had been disconcerted by the report that the English were on the move for Valladolid. That they were coming against his own force he can as yet hardly have guessed. He was still in his old position, one infantry division at SaldaÑa, the other at Carrion. Debelle’s light-cavalry brigade lay in front as a screen, with its head quarters at Sahagun, only nine miles from the English advanced pickets, which had reached the abbey of Melgar Abaxo. The proximity of the enemy led Lord Paget, who showed himself throughout the campaign a most admirable and enterprising cavalry commander, to attempt a surprise. Marching long ere This was perhaps the most brilliant exploit of the British cavalry during the whole six years of the war. When the Peninsular medals were distributed, nearly forty years after, a special clasp was very rightly given for it, though many combats in which a much larger number of men were engaged received no such notice. While reading the records of later stages of the war the historian must often regret that Wellington never, till Waterloo, had the services of Paget as commander of his light cavalry. There were unfortunate personal reasons which rendered the presence of the The scared survivors of Debelle’s brigade rode back to give Soult notice that the enemy was upon him, and might close in on the very next day. Meanwhile Moore’s infantry, following in the wake of Paget’s horse, reached Sahagun on the evening of the twenty-first. It was to be almost their last step in advance. The general allowed one day’s rest to enable the rear divisions to close up to the van, so that all might advance on SaldaÑa and Carrion in a compact mass. He intended to deliver his much-desired blow at Soult upon the twenty-third. The Duke of Dalmatia, though he had heard nothing as yet of the British infantry, made the right inference from the vigorous way in which his cavalry had been driven in, and concluded that Moore was not far off. He drew down his second infantry division from SaldaÑa to Carrion, thus concentrating his corps, and sent aides-de-camp to Burgos and Palencia to hurry up to his support every regiment that could be found. The disposable troops turned out to be Lorges’s division of dragoons, and Delaborde’s division of the 8th Corps, which were both on their way from Burgos to Madrid. The rest of Junot’s infantry was two days off, on the road from Vittoria to Burgos. The brigade of Franceschi’s cavalry which had evacuated Valladolid, was also heard of on the Palencia road. No news or orders had been received from Madrid, with which place communication was now only possible by the route of Aranda, that by Valladolid being closed. If Moore, allowing his infantry the night of the twenty-first and the morning of the twenty-second to recruit their strength, had marched on Carrion on the afternoon of the latter day, he would have caught Soult at a disadvantage at dawn on the twenty-third, for none of the supporting forces had yet got into touch with the Marshal. If the latter had dared to make a stand, he would have been crushed: but it is more probable that—being a prudent general—he would have fallen back a march in the direction of Burgos. But, as it chanced, Moore resolved to give his men forty-eight hours instead of thirty-six at Sahagun—and twelve hours While waiting at Sahagun for the sun to set, Moore received a dispatch from La Romana to say that, in accordance with his promise, he had marched from Leon to aid his allies. But he could only put into the field some 8,000 men and a single battery—with which he had advanced to Mansilla, with his vanguard at Villarminio, on the road to SaldaÑa. He was thus but eighteen miles from Sahagun, and though he had only brought a third of his army with him, could be utilized in the oncoming operations. But this was not the only news which reached Moore on the afternoon of the twenty-third. Only two short hours before he received the dispatch from Mansilla, another note from La Romana had come in, with information of very much greater importance. A confidential agent of the Marquis, beyond the Douro, had sent him a messenger with news that all the French forces in the direction of the Escurial were turning northward and crossing the Guadarrama. Putting this intelligence side by side with rumours brought in by peasants, to the effect that great quantities of food and forage had been ordered to be collected in the villages west of Palencia, Moore drew the right inference. What he had always expected had come to pass. Napoleon had turned north from Madrid, and was hastening across the mountains to overwhelm the British army[636]. Without losing a moment, Moore countermanded his advance on Carrion. The orders went out at nine o’clock, when the leading brigades had already started. As the men were tramping over the frozen snow, in full expectation of a fight at dawn, they were suddenly told to halt. A moment later came the command to turn back by the road that they had come, and to retire to their bivouacs of the previous day. Utterly puzzled and much disgusted the troops returned to Sahagun. SECTION VIII: CHAPTER IVNAPOLEON’S PURSUIT OF MOORE: SAHAGUN TO ASTORGA We have many times had occasion in this narrative to wonder at the extreme tardiness with which news reached the Spanish and the English generals. It is now at the inefficiency of Napoleon’s intelligence department that we must express our surprise. Considering that Moore had moved forward from Salamanca as far back as December 12, and had made his existence manifest to the French on that same day by the successful skirmish at Rueda, it is astonishing to find that the Emperor did not grasp the situation for nine days. Under the influence of his pre-conceived idea that the British must be retiring on Lisbon, he was looking for them in every other quarter rather than the banks of the Upper Douro. On the seventeenth he was ordering reconnaissances to be made in the direction of Plasencia[637] in Estremadura (of all places in the world) to get news of Moore, and was still pushing troops towards Talavera on the road to Portugal. The general tendency of all his movements was in this direction, and there can be no doubt that in a few days his great central reserve would have followed in the wake of Lasalle and Lefebvre, and started for Badajoz and Elvas. On the nineteenth he reviewed outside Madrid the troops that were available for instant movement—the Imperial Guard, the corps of Ney, the divisions of Leval and Lapisse—about 40,000 men with 150 guns, all in excellent order, and with fifteen days’ biscuit stored in their wagons[638]. Of the direction they were to take we can have no doubt, when we read in the imperial The Emperor’s obstinate refusal to look in the right direction is very curious when we remember that Moore’s cavalry was sweeping the plains as far as Valladolid from December 12 to 16, and that on the eighteenth Franceschi had abandoned that important city, while Soult had got news of Moore’s being on the move two days earlier. Clearly either there was grave neglect in sending information on the part of the French cavalry generals in Old Castile, or else the Emperor had so convinced himself that the British were somewhere on the road to Lisbon, that he did not read the true meaning of the dispatches from the north. Be this as it may, it is evident that there was a serious failure in the imperial intelligence department, and that a week or more was wasted. Bonaparte ought to have been astir two or three days after Stewart and Paget drove in Franceschi’s screen of vedettes. As a matter of fact it was nine days before any move was made at the French head quarters: yet Rueda is only ninety-five miles from Madrid. The first definite intelligence as to the English being on the move in Old Castile reached the Emperor on the evening of December 19. Yet it was only on the twenty-first that he really awoke to the full meaning of the reports that reached him from Soult and Franceschi[641]. But when he did at last realize the situation, he acted with a sudden and spasmodic energy which was never surpassed in any of his earlier campaigns. He hurled on to Moore’s track not only the central reserve at Madrid, but troops gathered in from all directions, till he had set at least 80,000 men on the march, to encompass the British corps which had so hardily thrown itself upon his communications. Moore had been perfectly right when he stated his belief that the sight of the redcoats within reach would stir the Emperor up to such wrath, that he would abandon every other enterprise and rush upon them with every available man. On the evening of the twenty-first the French troops from every The Emperor, once more committing the error of arguing from insufficient data, had made up his mind that the English were at Valladolid[643]. He had no news from that place since Franceschi had abandoned it, and chose to assume that Moore, or at any rate some portion of the British army, was there established. Under this hypothesis it would be easy to cut off the raiders from a retreat on Portugal, or even on Galicia, by carrying troops with extreme speed to Tordesillas and Medina de Rio Seco. This comparatively easy task was all that Napoleon aimed at in his first directions. Villacastin, Arevalo, Olmedo, and Medina del Campo are the points to which his orders of December 21 and 22 require that the advancing columns should be pushed. For the maintenance of Madrid, and the ‘containing’ of the Spanish armies at Cuenca and Almaraz, the Emperor left nothing behind but the corps of Lefebvre, two-thirds of the corps of Victor, and the three cavalry divisions of Lasalle, Milhaud, and Latour-Maubourg—8,000 horse and 28,000 foot in all, with ninety guns[644]. King Joseph was left in nominal command of the whole. Such a force was amply sufficient to hold back the disorganized troops of Galluzzo and Infantado, but not to advance on Seville or on Lisbon. It was impossible that any blow should be dealt to the west or the south, till the Emperor should send back some of the enormous masses of men that he had hurled upon Moore. Thus the English general’s intention was fully carried out: his raid into Old Castile had completely disarranged all Bonaparte’s plans. It gave the Spaniards at least two months in which to rally and recover their spirits, and it drew the field-army of the Emperor into a remote and desolate corner of Spain, so that the main centres of resistance were left unmolested. Napoleon had guessed part, but by no means all, of Moore’s design. ‘The manoeuvre of the English is very strange,’ he wrote to his brother Joseph; ‘it is proved that they have evacuated Salamanca. Probably they have brought their transports round to Ferrol, because they think that the retreat on Lisbon is no longer safe, as we could push on from Talavera by the left bank of the Tagus and shut the mouth of the river.... Probably they have evacuated Portugal and transferred their base to Ferrol, because it offers advantages for a safe embarkation. But while retreating, they might hope to inflict a check on the corps of Soult, and may not have made up their mind to try it till they had got upon their new line of retreat, and moved to the right bank of the Douro. They may have argued as follows: “If the French commit themselves to a march on Lisbon, we can evacuate on Oporto, and while doing so are still on our line of communications with Ferrol. Or, possibly, they may be expecting fresh reinforcements. But whatever their plan may be, their move will have a great influence on the end of this whole business.”’ The Emperor thought therefore that Moore’s main object had been to change an unsafe base at Lisbon for a safe one in Galicia, and that the demonstration against Soult was incidental and secondary. It does not seem to have struck him that the real design was to But to proceed: Ney’s corps, which led the advance against Moore, crossed the Guadarrama on the night of December 21, and had arrived safely at Villacastin, on the northern side of the passes, on the morning of the twenty-second. As if to contradict the Emperor’s statement—made as he was setting out—that ‘the weather could not be better,’ a dreadful tempest arose that day. When Bonaparte rode up from Chamartin, to place himself at the head of his Guard, which was to cross the mountains on the twenty-second, he found the whole column stopped by a howling blizzard, which swept down the pass with irresistible strength and piled the snow in large drifts at every inconvenient corner of the defile. It is said that several horsemen were flung over precipices by the mere force of the wind. The whole train of cannon and caissons stuck halfway up the ascent, and could neither advance nor retreat. Violently irritated at the long delay, Napoleon turned on every pioneer that could be found to clear away the drifts, set masses of men to trample down the snow into a beaten track, forced the officers and all the cavalry to dismount and lead their horses, and unharnessed half the artillery so as to give double teams to the rest. In this way the Guard, with the Emperor walking on foot in its midst, succeeded at last in crawling through to Villacastin by the night of December 23. At the very moment at which Moore was countermanding the advance on Sahagun—about seven o’clock on the evening of the twenty-third—Napoleon was throwing himself on his couch at Villacastin, after a day of fatigue which had tried even his iron frame. For the next week the two armies were contending with their feet and not their arms, in the competition which the French officers called the ‘race to Benavente[646].’ Napoleon was at last beginning to understand that he had not before him the comparatively simple task of cutting the road between Valladolid and Astorga, but the much harder one of intercepting that between Sahagun and Astorga. For the first three days of his march he was still under some hopes of catching the English before they could cross the Esla—and if any of them had been at Valladolid this would certainly have been possible. On December 24 he was at Arevalo: on Christmas Day he reached Tordesillas, where he waited twenty-four hours to allow his infantry to come up with his cavalry. On the twenty-seventh he at last understood—mainly through a letter from Soult—that the English were much further north than he had at first believed. But he was still in high spirits: he did not think it probable that Moore also might have been making forced marches, and having seized Medina de Rio Seco with Ney’s corps, he imagined that he was close on the flank of the retreating enemy. ‘To-day or to-morrow,’ he wrote to his brother Joseph on that morning, ‘it is probable that great events will take place. If the English have not already retreated they are lost: even if they have already moved they shall be pursued to the water’s edge, and not half of them shall re-embark. Put in your newspapers that 36,000 English are surrounded, that I am at Benavente in their rear, while Soult is in their front[647].’ The announcement was duly made in the Madrid Gazette, but the Emperor had been deceived as to the condition of affairs, which never in actual fact resembled the picture that he had drawn for himself[648]. Sir John had commenced his retreat from Sahagun on the twenty-fourth, with the intention of retiring to Astorga, and of taking up a position on the mountains behind it that might cover Galicia. He did not intend to retire any further unless he were obliged[649]. If Soult should follow him closely, while the Emperor was still two or three marches away, he announced his intention of turning upon the Marshal and offering him battle. He wrote to La Romana asking him to hold the bridge of Mansilla (the most northerly passage over the Esla) as long as might be prudent, and then to retire on the Asturias, leaving the road to Galicia clear for the English army[650]. At noon on the twenty-fourth Moore started off in two columns: Baird’s division marched by the northern road to Valencia de Don Juan, where the Esla is passable by a ford and a ferry: Hope and Fraser took the more southern route by Mayorga and the bridge of Castro Gonzalo. The reserve division under E. Paget, and the two light brigades, remained behind at Sahagun for twenty-four hours to cover the retreat. The five cavalry regiments were ordered to press in closely upon Soult, and to keep him as long as possible in doubt as to whether he was not himself about to be attacked. This demonstration seems to have served its purpose, for the Marshal made no move either on the twenty-fourth or the twenty-fifth. Yet by the latter day his army was growing very formidable, as all the corps from Burgos and Palencia were reporting themselves to him: Lorges’s dragoons had reached Frechilla, and Delaborde with the head of the infantry of Junot’s corps was at Paredes, only thirteen miles from Soult’s head quarters at Carrion. Loison and Heudelet were not far behind. Yet the English columns marched for two days wholly unmolested. On the twenty-sixth Baird crossed the Esla at Valencia: the ford was dangerous, for the river was rising: a sudden thaw on the twenty-fourth had turned the roads into mud, and loosened the snows. But the guns and baggage crossed without loss, as did But already signs were beginning to be visible that their discipline was about to break down. A good deal of wanton damage and a certain amount of plunder took place at the halting-places for the night—Mayorga, Valderas, and Benavente. A voice from the ranks explains the situation. ‘Our sufferings were so great that many of the men lost their natural activity and spirits, and became savage in their dispositions. The idea of running away, without even firing a shot, from the enemy we had beaten so easily at Vimiero, was too galling to their feelings. Each spoke to his fellow, even in common conversation, with bitterness: rage flashed out on the most trifling occasion of disagreement. The poor Spaniards had little to expect from such men as these, who blamed them for their inactivity. Every man found at home was looked upon as a traitor to his country. “Why is not every Spaniard under arms and fighting? The cause is not ours: are we to be the only sufferers?” Such was the common language, and from these feelings pillage and outrage naturally arose[653].’ The men began to seize food in the towns and villages without waiting for the regular distribution, forced their way into houses, and (the country being singularly destitute of wood) tore down sheds and doors to build up their bivouac fires. The most deplorable mischief took place at Benavente, where the regiment quartered in the picturesque old castle belonging to the Duchess of Osuna burnt much of the mediaeval furniture, tore down the sixteenth-century tapestry to make bed-clothes, and lighted fires The infantry, as we have seen, accomplished their march to Benavente without molestation, and all, including the rearguard, were across the Esla by the twenty-seventh. Paget’s cavalry, however, had a much more exciting time on the last two days. Finding that he was not attacked, Soult began to bestir himself on the twenty-sixth: he sent Lorges’s dragoons after the British army, in the direction of Mayorga, while with Franceschi’s cavalry and the whole of his infantry he marched by the direct road on Astorga, via the bridge of Mansilla. Lorges’s four regiments were in touch with the rearguard of Paget’s hussars on the twenty-sixth and twenty-seventh, but they were not the only or the most important enemies who were now striving to drive in Moore’s cavalry screen. The advanced guard of the Emperor’s army had just come up, and first Colbert’s brigade of Ney’s corps and then the cavalry of the Guard began to press in upon Paget: Lahoussaye’s dragoons arrived on the scene a little later. It is a splendid testimonial to the way in which the British horsemen were handled, that they held their own for three days against nearly triple forces on a front of thirty miles[656]. No better certificate could be given to them than the fact that the Emperor estimated them, when the fighting was over, at 4,000 or 5,000 sabres, their real force being only 2,400. He wrote, too, in a moment of chagrin when Moore’s army had just escaped from him, so that he was not at all inclined to But under the admirable leading of Paget the British cavalry held its own in every direction. Moore was not exaggerating when he wrote on the twenty-eighth that ‘they have obtained by their spirit and enterprise an ascendency over the French which nothing but great superiority of numbers on their part can get the better of[657].’ The 18th Light Dragoons turned back to clear their rear six times on December 27, and on each occasion drove in the leading squadrons of their pursuers with such effect that they secured themselves an unmolested retreat for the next few miles. At one charge, near Valencia de Don Juan, a troop of thirty-eight sabres of this regiment charged a French squadron of 105 men, and broke through them, killing twelve and capturing twenty. The 10th Hussars, while fending off Lorges’s dragoons near Mayorga, found that a regiment of the light cavalry of Ney had got into their rear and had drawn itself up on a rising ground flanking the high-road. Charging up the slope, and over soil deep in the slush of half-melted snow, they broke through the enemy’s line, and got off in safety with 100 prisoners. Every one of Paget’s five regiments had its full share of fighting on the twenty-sixth and twenty-seventh, yet they closed in on to Benavente in perfect order, with insignificant losses, and exulting in a complete consciousness of their superiority to the enemy’s horse. Since the start from Salamanca they had in twelve days taken no less than 500 prisoners, besides inflicting considerable losses in killed and wounded on the French. They had still one more success before them, ere they found themselves condemned to comparative uselessness among the mountains of Galicia. On the twenty-eighth Robert Crawfurd’s brigade had waited behind in the mud and rain, drawn up in front of the bridge of Castro Gonzalo, ‘standing for many hours with arms posted, and staring the French cavalry in the face, while the water actually ran out of the muzzles of their muskets[658].’ At last our hussars retired, and Crawfurd blew up two arches of the bridge when Paget had passed over, and moved back on Benavente, after some trifling skirmishing with the cavalry of the Imperial Guard, who had come up in force and tried to interrupt his work. The inde After resting for a day in Benavente Moore had sent on the divisions of Fraser and Hope to Astorga, by the highway through La Baneza. The division of Baird, marching from Valencia by villainous cross-roads, converged on the same point, where the three corps met upon December 29. Their march was wholly unmolested by the French, who were being successfully held back by Moore’s rearguard under the two Pagets—the cavalry general and the commander of the reserve division—and by Crawfurd and Alten’s light brigades. On the same morning that the main body reached Astorga, the infantry of the rearguard marched out of Benavente, leaving behind only the horsemen, who were watching all the fords, with their supports three miles behind in the town of Benavente. Seeing that all the infantry had disappeared, Lefebvre-Desnouettes, who commanded the cavalry of the Guard, thought it high time to press beyond the Esla: it was absurd, he thought, that the mass of French horsemen, now gathered opposite the broken bridge of Castro Gonzalo, should allow themselves to be kept in check by a mere chain of vedettes unsupported by infantry or guns. Accordingly he searched for fords, and when one was found a few hundred yards from the bridge, crossed it at the head of the four squadrons of the chasseurs of the Guard, between 500 and 600 sabres[659]. The rest of his troops, after vainly seeking for other passages, were about to follow him. The moment that he had got over the water Lefebvre found himself withstood by the pickets, mainly belonging to the 18th Light Dragoons, who came riding in from their posts along the river to mass themselves opposite to him. When about 130 men were collected, under Colonel Otway, they ventured to charge the leading squadrons of the chasseurs, of course with indifferent success. After retiring a few hundred yards more, they were joined by a troop of the 3rd Dragoons of the King’s German Legion, under Major Burgwedel, and again turned to fight. At this second clash the front line of the pursuers was broken for a moment, and the dragoons who had burst through the gap had a narrow escape of being surrounded The remnant of the chasseurs crossed the river, and were immediately supported by other regiments, who (after failing to find another ford) had come down to that which Lefebvre had used. Paget indeed was so effectively gone, that though French cavalry by the thousand crossed the ford that night they could do nothing. And Crawfurd had so thoroughly destroyed the bridge of Castro Gonzalo—he had blown up the central pier, and not merely cut the crowns of the arches—that infantry and guns could not cross till the thirtieth. It was only on that day that the heads of Ney’s corps and of the Imperial Guard came up: Lapisse’s division was still far behind, at Toro. All that the rapid forced marches of the Emperor had brought him was the privilege of assisting at Paget’s departure, and of picking up in Benavente some abandoned carts, which Moore had caused to be broken after burning their contents. Napoleon still consoled himself with the idea that it was possible that Soult might have been more fortunate than himself, and might perhaps already be attacking the English at Astorga. This was not the case: after learning that Moore had disappeared from his front, the Duke of Dalmatia had taken the road Sahagun—Mansilla, as the shortest line which would bring him to Astorga, the place The divisions of Baird, Hope, and Fraser, as we have already seen, had reached Astorga on the twenty-ninth, the reserve division and the light brigades (after a most fatiguing march from Benavente) on the thirtieth, while the cavalry was, as always, to the rear, keeping back the advancing squadrons of BessiÈres. Thus on the thirtieth the English and Spanish armies were concentrated at Astorga with every available man present—the British still 25,000 strong; for they had suffered little in the fighting, and had not yet begun to straggle—but Romana with no more than 9,000 or 10,000 of the nominal 22,000 which had been shown in his returns of ten days before. His 2nd Division had been practically destroyed at Mansilla: he had left 2,000 sick at Leon, and many more had fallen out of the ranks in the march from that place—some because they wished to desert their colours, but more from cold, disease, and misery; for the army was not merely half naked, but infected with a malignant typhus fever which was making terrible ravages in its ranks[668]. Moore had told La Romana on the twenty-fourth that he hoped to make a stand at Astorga. The same statement had been passed round the army, and had kept up the spirits of the men to some extent, though many had begun to believe that ‘Moore would never fight[669].’ There were magazines of food at Astorga, and much more considerable ones of military equipment: a large convoy of shoes, blankets, and muskets had lately come in from Corunna, and Baird’s heavy baggage had been stacked in the place before he marched for Sahagun. The town itself was surrounded with ancient walls, and had some possibilities of defence: just behind it rises the first range of the Galician mountains, a steep and forbidding chain pierced only by the two passes which contain the old The question was at once raised as to whether the position in rear of Astorga should not be seriously defended. The town itself would naturally have to be given up, if the French chose to press on in force; but the two defiles might be fortified and held against very superior numbers. To turn 25,000 British troops out of them would have been a very serious task, and the Spaniards meanwhile could have been used for diversions on the enemy’s flank and rear. La Romana called upon Moore, at the moment of the latter’s arrival at Astorga, and proposed that they should join in defending the passes. To give them up meant, he said, to give up also the great upland valley behind them—the Vierzo—where lay his own dÉpÔts and his park of artillery at Ponferrada, and where Moore also had considerable stores and magazines at Villafranca. The proposal was well worthy of being taken into account, and was far from being—as Napier calls it—‘wilder than the dreams of Don Quixote!’ for the positions were very strong, and there was no convenient route by which they could be turned. The only other way into Galicia, that by Puebla de Sanabria, is not only far away, but almost impassable at midwinter from the badness of the road and the deep snow. Moreover it leads not into the main valley of the Minho, but into that of the Tamega on the Portuguese frontier, from which another series of difficult defiles have to be crossed in order to get into the heart of Galicia. La Romana thought that this road might practically be disregarded as an element of danger in a January campaign. The suggestion of the Marquis deserved serious consideration. Moore’s reasons for a summary rejection of the proposal are not stated by him at any length[670]. He wrote to Castlereagh merely that there was only two days’ bread at Astorga, that his means of carriage were melting away by the death of draught beasts and the desertion of drivers, and that he feared that the enemy might use the road upon his flank—i.e. the Puebla de Sanabria route—to turn his position. He purposed therefore to fall back at once to the coast as fast as he could, and trusted that the French, for want of food, would not be able to follow him further than Villafranca. To these reasons may be added another, which Moore cited in his Some of these reasons are not quite convincing: though there were only two days’ rations at Astorga, there were fourteen days’ at Villafranca, and large dÉpÔts had also been gathered at Lugo and Corunna. These could be rendered available with no great trouble, if real energy were displayed, for there was still (as the disasters of the retreat were to show) a good deal of wheeled transport with the army. The flanking road by Puebla de Sanabria was (as we have said) so difficult and so remote that any turning corps that tried it would be heard of long before it became dangerous. There would be great political advantage in checking Bonaparte at the passes, even if it were only for a week or ten days. Moreover, to show a bold front would raise the spirits of the army, whose growing disorders were the marks of discontent at the retreat, and whose one wish was to fight the French as soon as possible. As to the rest which Moore declared to be necessary for the troops, this could surely have been better given by halting them and offering to defend the passes, than by taking them over the long and desolate road that separated them from Corunna. The experiences of the next eleven days can hardly be called ‘rest.’ Though clearly possible, a stand behind Astorga may not have been the best policy. Napoleon had a vast force in hand after his junction with Soult, and he was a dangerous foe to brave, even in such a formidable position as that which the British occupied. But it is doubtful whether this fact was the cause of Moore’s determination to retreat to the sea. If we may judge from the tone of his dispatches, his thought was merely that he had promised to make a diversion, under strong pressure from Frere and the rest; that he had successfully carried out his engagement, and lured the Emperor and the bulk of the French forces away from Madrid; and that he considered his task completed. In his letter of December 31 to Castlereagh, he harks back once more to his old depreciation of the Spaniards—they had taken no advantage of the chance he had given them, they were as apathetic as ever, his exertions had been wasted, and so forth[672]. In so writing he made a mistake: his It seems improbable, from Moore’s tone in his dispatch of December 31, that he ever had any serious intention of standing behind Astorga. He had fallen back upon his old desponding views of the last days of November, and was simply set on bringing off the British army in safety, without much care for the fate of the Spaniards whom he so much disliked and contemned. The only sign of his ever having studied the intermediate positions between Astorga and Corunna lies in a report addressed to him on December 26, by Carmichael Smith of the Royal Engineers. This speaks of the Manzanal—Rodrigatos position as presenting an appearance of strong ground, but having the defect of possessing a down-slope to the rear for six miles, so that if the line were forced, a long retreat downhill would be necessary in face of the pursuing enemy. The engineer then proceeded to recommend the position of Cacabellos, a league in front of Villafranca, as being very strong and safe from any turning movement. But Moore, as we shall see, refused to stand at the one place as much as at the other, only halting a rearguard at Cacabellos to keep off the pursuing horse for a few hours, and never offering a pitched battle upon that ground. It is probable that nothing would have induced him to fight at either position, after he had once resolved that a straight march to the sea was the best policy. So little time did Moore take in making up his mind as to the desirability of holding the passes above Astorga, that he pushed on Baird’s, Fraser’s, and Hope’s divisions towards Villafranca on But this easy escape from the Emperor’s clutches had been bought at considerable sacrifices. Astorga was crammed with stores of all kinds, as we have already had occasion to mention: food was the only thing that was at all short. But there was not sufficient transport in the place, and the retreating army was already losing wagons and beasts so fast that it could not carry off much of the accumulated material that lay before it. A hasty attempt was made to serve out to the troops the things that could be immediately utilized. La Romana’s Spaniards received several thousand new English muskets to replace their dilapidated weapons, and a quantity of blankets. Some of the British regiments had shoes issued to them; but out of mere hurry and mismanagement several thousand pairs more were destroyed instead of distributed, though many men were already almost barefoot. There were abandoned all the heavy baggage of Baird’s division (which had been stacked at Astorga before the march to Sahagun), an entire dÉpÔt of entrenching tools, several hundred barrels of rum, and many scores of carts and wagons for which draught animals were wanting. A quantity of small-arms ammunition was blown up. But the most distressing thing of all was that those of the sick of the army who could not bear to be taken on through the January cold in open wagons had to be left behind: some four hundred invalids, it would seem, were abandoned in the hospital and fell into the hands of the French[673]. The most deplorable thing about these losses was that all the evacuation and destruction was carried out under difficulties, owing to the gross state of disorder and indiscipline into which the army was falling. The news that they were to retreat once more without fighting had exasperated the men to the last degree. Thousands of them got loose in the streets, breaking into houses, maltreating the inhabitants, and pillaging the stores, which were to be aban By the thirty-first, however, Astorga was clear of British and Spanish troops. Moore marched by the new high-road, the route of Manzanal: La Romana took the shorter but more rugged defile of Foncebadon. But he sent his guns along with the British, in order to spare the beasts the steeper ascents of the old chaussÉe. The terrible rain of the last week was just passing into snow as the two columns, every man desperately out of heart, began their long uphill climb across the ridge of the Monte Teleno, towards the uplands of the Vierzo. NOTE This account of the retreat from Sahagun is constructed from a careful comparison of the official documents with the memoirs and monographs of the following British eye-witnesses:—Robert Blakeney (of the 28th), Rifleman Harris and Sergeant Surtees (of the 2/95th), Lord Londonderry, and Lord Vivian of the Cavalry Brigade, Leith Hay (Aide-de-Camp to General Leith), Charles and William Napier, T.S. of the 71st, Steevens of the 20th, the Surgeon Adam Neale, and the Chaplain Ormsby. Bradford, another chaplain, has left a series of admirable water-colour drawings of the chief points on the road as far as Lugo, made under such difficulties as can be well imagined. Of French eye-witnesses I have used the accounts of St. Chamans, Fantin des Odoards, Naylies, De Gonneville, Lejeune, and the detestably inaccurate Le Noble. SECTION VIII: CHAPTER VSOULT’S PURSUIT OF MOORE: ASTORGA TO CORUNNA When he found that Moore had escaped from him, Napoleon slackened down from the high speed with which he had been moving for the last ten days. He stayed at Benavente for two nights, occupying himself with desk-work of all kinds, and abandoning the pursuit of the British to BessiÈres and Soult. The great coup had failed: instead of capturing the expeditionary force he could but harass it on its way to the sea. Such a task was beneath his own dignity: it would compromise the imperial reputation for infallibility, if a campaign that had opened with blows like Espinosa, Tudela, and the capture of Madrid ended in a long and ineffectual stern-chase. If Bonaparte had continued the hunt himself, with the mere result of arriving in time to see Moore embark and depart, he would have felt that his prestige had been lowered. He tacitly confessed as much himself long years after, when, in one of his lucubrations at St. Helena, he remarked that he would have conducted the pursuit in person, if he had but known that contrary winds had prevented the fleet of British transports from reaching Corunna. But of this he was unaware at the time; and since he calculated that Moore could be harassed perhaps, but not destroyed or captured, he resolved to halt and turn back. Soult should have the duty of escorting the British to the sea: they were to be pressed vigorously and, with luck, the Emperor trusted that half of them might never see England again. But no complete success could be expected, and he did not wish to appear personally in any enterprise that was but partially successful. Other reasons were assigned both by Napoleon himself and by his admirers for his abandonment of the pursuit of Moore. He stated that Galicia was too much in a corner of the world for him to adventure himself in its mountains—he would be twenty days journey from Paris and the heart of affairs. If Austria began to move again in the spring, there would be an intolerable delay An oft-repeated story says that the Emperor received a packet of letters from Paris while riding from Benavente to Astorga on January 1, 1809, and, after reading them by the wayside with every sign of anger, declared that he must return to France. If the tale be true, we may be sure that the papers which so moved his wrath had no reference to armaments on the Danube, but were concerned with the intrigues in Paris. There was absolutely nothing in the state of European affairs to make an instant departure from Spain necessary. On the other hand, rumours of domestic plots always touched the Emperor to the quick, and it must have been as irritating as it was unexpected to discover that his own sister and brother-in-law were dabbling in such intrigues, even though ostensibly they were but discussing what should be done if something should happen in Spain to their august relative. Already ere leaving Benavente the Emperor had issued orders which showed that he had abandoned his hope of surrounding and crushing Moore. He had begun to send off, to the right and to the left, part of the great mass of troops which he had brought with him. On December 31 he wrote to Dessolles, and ordered him to give his division a short rest at Villacastin, and then to return to Madrid, where the garrison was too weak. On January 1, the whole of the Imperial Guard was directed to halt and return to Benavente, from whence it was soon after told to march back to Valladolid. Lapisse’s division of Victor’s corps, which had got no further than Benavente in its advance, was turned off to subdue the southern parts of the kingdom of Leon. To the same end were diverted D’Avenay’s[678] and Maupetit’s[679] brigades of cavalry. Quite contrary Having sent off the Guards, Lapisse, Dessolles, and Maupetit’s and D’Avenay’s cavalry, the Emperor had still a large force left in hand for the pursuit of Moore. There remained Soult’s and Ney’s corps, the horsemen of Lahoussaye, Lorges, and Franceschi, and the greater part of Junot’s 8th Corps. The Emperor had resolved to break up this last-named unit: it contained many third-battalions belonging to regiments which were already in Spain: they were directed to rejoin their respective head quarters. When this was done, there remained only enough to make up two rather weak divisions of 5,000 men each. These were given to Delaborde and Heudelet, and incorporated with Soult’s 2nd Corps. Loison’s division, the third of the original 8th Corps, was suppressed[682]. Junot himself was sent off to take a command under Lannes at the siege of Saragossa. When joined by Delaborde and Heudelet, Soult had a corps of exceptional strength—five divisions and nearly 30,000 bayonets. He could not use for the pursuit of Moore Bonnet’s division, which had been left to garrison Santander. But with the remainder, 25,000 strong, he pressed forward from Astorga in pursuance of his master’s orders. His cavalry force was very large in proportion: it consisted of 6,000 sabres, for not only were three complete divisions of dragoons with him, but Ney’s corps-cavalry (the brigade of Colbert) was up at the front and leading the pursuit. Ney himself, with his two infantry divisions, those of Maurice Mathieu and Marchand, was a march or two to the rear, some 16,000 bayonets strong. If Soult The head of the pursuing column was formed by Lahoussaye’s dragoons and Colbert’s light cavalry: in support of these, but always some miles to the rear, came Merle’s infantry. This formed the French van: the rest of Soult’s troops were a march behind, with Heudelet’s division for rearguard. All the 2nd Corps followed the English on the Manzanal road: only Franceschi’s four regiments of cavalry turned aside, to follow the rugged pass of Foncebadon, by which La Romana’s dilapidated host had retired. The exhausted Spaniards were making but slow progress through the snow and the mountain torrents. Franceschi caught them up on January 2, and scattered their rearguard under General Rengel, taking a couple of flags and some 1,500 men: the prisoners are described as being in the last extremity of misery and fatigue, and many of them were infected with the typhus fever, which had been hanging about this unfortunate corps ever since its awful experience in the Cantabrian hills during the month of November[684]. Moore’s army, as we have already seen, had marched out from Astorga—the main body on December 30, the rearguard on the thirty-first. After determining that he would not defend the passes of Manzanal and Foncebadon, the general had doubted whether he should make his retreat on Corunna by the great chaussÉe, or on Vigo, by the minor road which goes via Orense and the valley of the Sil. It is strange that he did not see that his mind must be promptly made up, and that when once he had passed the mountains he must commit himself to one or the other route. But his dispatches to Castlereagh show that it was not till he had Colbert and Lahoussaye took some little time, after leaving Astorga, before they came upon the rear of Moore’s army. But they had no difficulty in ascertaining the route that the English had taken: the steep uphill road from Astorga into the Vierzo was strewn with wreckage of all kinds, which had been abandoned by the retreating troops. The long twelve-mile incline, deeply covered with snow, had proved fatal to a vast number of draught animals, and wagon after wagon had to be abandoned to the pursuers, for want of sufficient oxen and mules to drag them further forward. Among the derelict baggage were lying no small number of exhausted stragglers, dead or dying from cold or dysentery. The whole morale of Moore’s army had suffered a dreadful deterioration from the moment that the order to evacuate Astorga was issued. As long as there was any prospect of fighting, the men—though surly and discontented—had stuck to their colours. Some regiments had begun to maraud, but the majority were still in good order. But from Astorga onward the discipline of the greater part of the corps began to relax. There were about a dozen regiments[688] which behaved thoroughly well, and came through the retreat with insignificant losses: on the other hand there were many others which left from thirty to forty per cent. of their men behind them. It cannot be disguised that the enormous difference between the proportion of ‘missing’ in battalions of the same brigade, which went through exactly identical experiences, was simply due to the varying degrees of zeal and energy with which the officers kept their men together. Where there was a strong controlling will the stragglers were few, and no one fell behind save those who were absolutely dying. The iron hand of Robert Crawfurd brought the 43rd and 95th through their troubles with a loss of eighty or ninety men each. The splendid discipline of the Guards brigade carried them to Corunna with even smaller proportional losses. There is no mistaking the coincidence when we find that the battalion which Moore denounced at Salamanca as being the worst commanded and the worst disciplined in his force, was also the one which left a higher percentage of stragglers behind than any other corps. The fact was that the toils of the The serious trouble began at Bembibre, the first place beyond the pass of Manzanal, where Hope’s, Baird’s, and Fraser’s divisions had encamped on the night of the thirty-first. The village was unfortunately a large local dÉpÔt for wine: slinking off from their companies, many hundreds of marauders made their way into the vaults and cellars. When the divisions marched next morning they left nearly a thousand men, in various stages of intoxication, lying about the houses and streets. The officers of Paget’s Reserve, who came up that afternoon, describe Bembibre as looking like a battle-field, so thickly were the prostrate redcoats strewn in every corner. Vigorous endeavours were made to rouse these bad soldiers, and to start them upon their way; but even next morning there were multitudes who could not or would not march[690]. When Meanwhile Baird and Hope’s divisions had reached Villafranca on the first, and scenes almost as disgraceful as those of Bembibre were occurring. The town was Moore’s most important dÉpÔt: it contained fourteen days’ rations of biscuit for the whole army, an immense amount of salt-beef and pork, and some hundreds of barrels of rum. There was no transport to carry off all this valuable provender, and Moore ordered it to be given to the flames. Hearing of this the troops broke into the magazines, and began to load themselves with all and more than they could carry, arguing, not unnaturally, that so much good food should not be burnt. Moore ordered one man—who was caught breaking into the rum store—to be shot in the square. But it was no use; the soldiers burst loose, though many of their officers cut and slashed at them to keep them in the ranks, and snatched all that they could from the fires. Some forced open private houses and plundered, and in a few cases maltreated, or even murdered, the townsfolk who would not give them drink. A great many got at the rum, and were left behind when the divisions marched on January 3[693]. While these orgies were going on at Villafranca, Paget and the Reserve had been halted six miles away, at Cacabellos, where The forces which were halted at Cacabellos consisted of the five battalions of the Reserve (under Paget), the 15th Hussars, and a horse-artillery battery. A squadron of the cavalry and half of the 95th Rifles were left beyond the river, in observation along the road towards Bembibre: the guns were placed on the western side of the Cua, commanding the road up from the bridge. The 28th formed their escort, while the other three battalions of the division were hidden behind a line of vineyards and stone walls parallel with the winding stream[695]. About one o’clock in the afternoon the French appeared, pushing cautiously forward from Bembibre with Colbert’s cavalry brigade of Ney’s corps now at their head, while Lahoussaye’s division of dragoons was in support. The infantry were not yet in sight. Colbert, a young and very dashing officer, currently reputed to be the most handsome man in the whole French army, was burning to distinguish himself. He had never before met the British, and had formed a poor opinion of them from the numerous stragglers and drunkards whom he had seen upon the road. He thought that the rearguard might be pushed, and the defile forced with little loss. Accordingly he rode forward at the head of his two regiments[696], and fell upon the squadron of the 15th Hussars which was observing him. They had to fly in hot haste, and, coming in suddenly to the bridge, rode into and over the last two companies of the 95th Rifles, who had not yet crossed the Judging however, from a hasty survey, that there were no very great numbers opposed to him, the young French general resolved to attempt to carry the bridge of Cacabellos by a furious charge, just as Franceschi had forced that of Mansilla five days before. This was a most hazardous and ill-advised move: it could only succeed against demoralized troops, and was bound to fail when tried against the steady battalions of the Reserve division. But ranging his leading regiment four abreast, Colbert charged for the bridge: the six guns opposite him tore the head of the column to pieces, but the majority of the troopers got across and tried to dash uphill and capture the position. They had fallen into a dreadful trap, for the 28th blocked the road just beyond the bridge, while the 95th and 52nd poured in a hot flanking fire from behind the vineyard walls on either side. There was no getting forward: Colbert himself was shot as he tried to urge on his men[698], and his aide-de-camp Latour-Maubourg fell at his side. After staying for no more than a few minutes on the further side of the water, the brigade turned rein and plunged back across the bridge, leaving many scores of dead and wounded behind them. Lahoussaye’s dragoons now came to the front: several squadrons of them forded the river at different points, but, unable to charge among the rocks and vines, they were forced to dismount and to act as skirmishers, a capacity in which they competed to no great advantage against the 52nd, with whom they found themselves engaged. It was not till the leading infantry of Merle’s division came up, not long before dusk, that the French were enabled to make any head against the defenders. Their voltigeurs bickered with the 95th and 52nd for an hour, but when the formed columns tried to cross the bridge, they were so raked by the six guns opposite them that they gave back in disorder. After dark the firing ceased, and Moore, who had come up in person from Villa Marching all through the night of 3rd-4th of January the Reserve division passed through Villafranca, where stores of all kinds were still blazing in huge bonfires, and did not halt till they reached Nogales, eighteen miles further on. They found the road before them strewn with one continuous line of wreckage from the regiments of the main body. The country beyond Villafranca was far more bare and desolate than the eastern half of the Vierzo: discipline grew worse each day, and the surviving animals of the baggage-train were dying off wholesale from cold and want of forage. The cavalry horses were also beginning to perish very fast, mainly from losing their shoes on the rough and stony road. As soon as a horse was unable to keep up with the regiment, he was (by Lord Paget’s orders) shot by his rider, in order to prevent him from falling into the hands of the French. Many witnesses of the retreat state that the incessant cracking of the hussars’ pistols, as the unfortunate chargers were shot, was the thing that lingered longest in their memories of all the sounds of these unhappy days. Beyond Villafranca the Corunna road passes through the picturesque defile of Piedrafita, by which it reaches the head waters of the Nava river, and then climbing the spurs of Monte Cebrero comes out into the bleak upland plain of Lugo. This fifty miles contained the most difficult and desolate country in the whole of Moore’s march, and was the scene of more helpless and undeserved misery than any other section of the retreat. It was not merely drunkards and marauders who now began to fall to the rear, but steady old soldiers who could not face the cold, the semi-starvation, and the forced marches. Moore hurried his troops forward at a pace that, over such roads, could only be kept up by the strongest ‘All that had hitherto been suffered by our troops was but a prelude to this time of horrors,’ wrote one British eye-witness. ‘It had still been attempted to carry forward our sick and wounded: here (on Monte Cebrero) the beasts which dragged them failed, and they were left in their wagons, to perish among the snow. As we looked round on gaining the highest point of these slippery precipices, and observed the rear of the army winding along the narrow road, we could see the whole track marked out by our own wretched people, who lay expiring from fatigue and the severity of the cold—while their uniforms reddened in spots the white surface of the ground. Our men had now become quite mad with despair: excessive fatigue and the consciousness of disgrace, in thus flying before an enemy whom they despised, excited in them a spirit which was quite mutinous. A few hours’ pause was all they asked, an opportunity of confronting the foe, and the certainty of making the pursuers atone for all the miseries that they had suffered. Not allowed to fight, they cast themselves down to perish by the wayside, giving utterance to feelings of shame, anger, and grief. But too frequently their dying groans were mingled with imprecations upon the General, who chose rather to let them die like beasts than to take their chance on the field of battle. That no degree of horror might be wanting, this unfortunate army was accompanied by many women and children, of whom some were frozen to death on the abandoned baggage-wagons, some died of fatigue and cold, while their Not only was the greater part of the baggage-train of the army lost between Villafranca and Lugo, but other things of more importance. A battery of Spanish guns was left behind on the crest of Monte Oribio for want of draught animals, and the military chest of the army was abandoned between Nogales and Cerezal. It contained about £25,000 in dollars, and was drawn in two ox-wagons, which gradually fell behind the main body as the beasts wore out. General Paget refused to fight a rearguard action to cover its slow progress, and ordered the 28th Regiment to hurl the small kegs containing the money over a precipice. The silver shower lay scattered among the rocks at the bottom: part was gathered up by Lahoussaye’s dragoons, but the bulk fell next spring, when the snow melted, into the hands of the local peasantry [Jan. 4]. On the further side of the mountains, between Cerezal and Constantino, the army was astounded to meet a long train of fifty bullock-carts moving southward. It contained clothing and stores for La Romana’s army, which the Junta of Galicia, with incredible carelessness, had sent forward from Lugo, though it had heard that the British were retreating. A few miles of further advance would have taken it into the hands of the French. Very naturally, the soldiery stripped the wagons and requisitioned the beasts for their own baggage. The shoes and garments were a godsend to those of the ragged battalions who could lay hands on them, and next day at Constantino many of the Reserve fought in whole- or half-Spanish uniforms. The skirmish at Constantino, on the afternoon of January 5, was the most important engagement, save that of Cacabellos, during the whole retreat. It was a typical rearguard action to cover a On January 6 Paget and the rearguard reached Lugo, where they found the main body of the army drawn out in battle order on a favourable position three miles outside the town. The fearful amount of straggling which had taken place during the forced marches of the fourth and fifth had induced Moore to halt on his march to the sea, in order to rest his men, restore discipline, and allow the laggards to come up. A tiresome contretemps had made him still more anxious to allow the army time to recruit itself. He had made up his mind at Herrerias (near Villafranca) that the wild idea of retiring on Vigo must be given up. The reports of the engineer officers whom he had sent to survey that port, as well as Ferrol and Corunna, were all in favour of the last-named place. Accordingly he had sent orders to the admiral at Vigo, bidding him bring the fleet of transports round to Corunna. At the same time Baird was directed to halt at Lugo, and not to take the side-road to Vigo via Compostella. Baird duly received the dispatch, and should have seen that it was sent on to his colleagues, Hope and Fraser. He gave the letter for Fraser to a private dragoon, who got drunk and lost the important document. Hence the 3rd Division started off on the Compostella road, a bad bypath, and went many miles across the snow before it was found and recalled. Baird’s negligence cost Fraser’s battalions 400 men in stragglers, and having marched and countermarched more than twenty miles, they returned to Lugo so thoroughly worn out that they could not possibly have resumed their retreat on the sixth[702]. Moore had found in Lugo a dÉpÔt containing four or five days The Lugo position was very strong: on the right it touched the unfordable river Minho, on the left it rested on rocky and inaccessible hills. All along the front there was a line of low stone walls, the boundaries of fields and vineyards. Below it there was a gentle down-slope of a mile, up which the enemy would have to march in order to attack. The army and the general alike were pleased with the outlook: they hoped that Soult would fight, and knew that they could give a good account of him. The Marshal turned out to be far too circumspect to run his head against such a formidable line. He came up on the sixth, On the seventh, therefore, Soult did no more than feel the British position. He had not at first been sure that Moore’s whole army was in front of him, and imagined that he might have to deal with no more than Paget’s Reserve division, with which he had bickered so much during the last four days. He was soon undeceived: when he brought forward a battery against Moore’s centre, it was immediately silenced by the fire of fifteen guns. A feint opposite the British right, near the river, was promptly opposed by the Brigade of Guards. A more serious attack by Merle’s division, on the hill to the left, was beaten back by Leith’s brigade, who drove back the 2nd LÉger and 36th of the Line by a bayonet-charge downhill, and inflicted on them a loss of 300 men. On the eighth many of Soult’s stragglers came up, but he still considered himself too weak to attack, and sent back to hurry up Heudelet’s division, and to request Ney to push forward his corps to Villafranca. He remained quiescent all day, to the great disappointment of Moore, who had issued orders to his army warning them that a battle was at hand, and bidding them not to waste their fire on the tirailleurs, but reserve it for the supporting columns. As the day wore on, without any sign of movement on the part of the French, the British commander began to grow anxious and depressed. If Soult would not move, it must mean that he had resolved to draw up heavy reinforcements from the rear. It would be mad to wait till they should come up: either the Marshal must be attacked at once, before he could be strengthened, or else the army must resume its retreat on Corunna before Soult was ready. To take the offensive Moore considered very doubtful policy—the French had about his own numbers, or perhaps even Accordingly Moore resolved neither to attack nor to wait to be attacked, but to resume his retreat towards the sea. It was not a very enterprising course; but it was at least a safe one; and since the troops were now somewhat rested, and (as he hoped) restored to good spirits, by seeing that the enemy dared not face them, he considered that he might withdraw without evil results. Accordingly the evening of the eighth was spent in destroying impedimenta and making preparations for retreat. Five hundred foundered cavalry and artillery horses were shot, a number of caissons knocked to pieces, and the remainder of the stores of food destroyed so far as was possible. At midnight on January 8-9 the army silently slipped out of its lines, leaving its bivouac fires burning, so as to delude the enemy with the idea that it still lay before him. Elaborate precautions had been taken to guide each division to the point from which it could fall with the greatest ease into the Corunna road. But it is not easy to evacuate by night a long position intersected with walls, enclosures, and suburban bypaths. Moreover the fates were unpropitious: drenching rain had set in, and it was impossible to see five yards in the stormy darkness. Whole regiments and brigades got astray, and of all the four divisions only Paget’s Reserve kept its bearings accurately and reached the chaussÉe exactly at the destined point. For miles on each side of the road stray battalions were wandering in futile circles when the day dawned. Instead of marching fifteen miles under cover of the night, many corps had got no further than four or five from their starting-point. Isolated men were scattered all over the face of the country-side, some because they had lost their regiments, others because they had deliberately sought shelter from the rain behind any convenient wall or rock. Continuing their retreat for some hours after daybreak, the troops reached the village of Valmeda, where their absolute exhaustion made a halt necessary. The more prudent commanders made their men lie down in their ranks, in spite of the downpour, What between deliberate marauding for food or plunder[706], and genuine inability to keep up with the regiment on the part of weakly men, Moore’s main body accomplished the march from Lugo to Betanzos in the most disorderly style. Paget’s rearguard kept their ranks, but the troops in front were marching in a drove, without any attempt to preserve discipline. An observer counted one very distinguished regiment in Manningham’s brigade of Baird’s division, and reports that with the colours there were only nine officers, three sergeants, and three privates when they reached the gates of Betanzos[707]. Fortunately for Moore, the French pursued the retreating army with the greatest slackness. It was late on the morning of the ninth before Soult discovered that the British were gone: the drenching rain which had so incommoded them had at least screened their retreat. After occupying Lugo, which was full of dead horses, The fatiguing retreat was continued through part of the night of January 9-10, and on the following morning all the regiments reached Betanzos, on the sea-coast. The indefatigable Reserve division took up a position on a low range of heights outside the town, to cover the incoming of the thousands of stragglers who were still to the rear. From this vantage-ground they had the opportunity of witnessing a curious incident which few of the narrators of the retreat have failed to record. Franceschi’s cavalry had resumed the pursuit, and after sweeping up some hundreds of prisoners from isolated parties, came to the village at the foot of the hills where the stragglers had gathered most thickly. At the noise of their approach, a good number of the more able-bodied men ran together, hastily formed up in a solid mass across the road, and beat off the French horsemen by a rolling fire. This had been done more by instinct than by design: but a sergeant of the 43rd, who assumed command over the assembly, skilfully brought order out of the danger[709]. He divided the men into two parties, which retired alternately down the road, the one facing the French while the other pushed on. The chasseurs charged them several times, but could never break in, and the whole body escaped to the English lines[710]. They had covered the retreat of Soult had as yet no infantry to the front, and Moore remained for a day at Betanzos, observed by Franceschi’s and Lahoussaye’s cavalry, which dared not molest him. On January 11 he resumed his march to Corunna, with his army in a far better condition than might have been expected. The weather had turned mild and dry, and the climate of the coastland was a pleasant change from that of the mountains[712]. The men had been well fed at Betanzos with food sent on from Corunna, and, marching along the friendly sea with their goal in sight, recovered themselves in a surprising manner. Their general was not so cheerful: he had heard that the fleet from Vigo had failed to double Cape Finisterre, and was still beating about in the Atlantic. He had hoped to find it already in harbour, and was much concerned to think that he might have to stand at bay for some days in order to allow it time to arrive. At Betanzos more sacrifices of war-material were made by the retiring army. Moore found there a large quantity of stores intended for La Romana, and had to spike and throw into the river five guns and some thousands of muskets. A considerable amount of food was imperfectly destroyed, but enough remained to give a welcome supply to the famishing French. It had been intended to blow up Betanzos bridge, but the mines were only partially successful, and the 28th Regiment from Paget’s Reserve division had to stay behind and to guard the half-ruined structure against Franceschi’s cavalry, till the main body had nearly reached Corunna, and the French infantry had begun to appear. On the night of the eleventh, the divisions of Hope, Baird, and Fraser reached Corunna, while that of Paget halted at El Burgo, four miles outside the town, where the chaussÉe crosses the tidal river Mero. Here the bridge was successfully blown up: it was only the second operation of the kind which had been carried out with efficiency during the whole retreat. Another bridge at Cambria, a few miles further up the stream, was also destroyed. Thus the French were for the moment brought to a stand. On the twelfth their leading infantry column came up, and bickered with Paget’s troops, across the impassable water, for the whole day[713]. But it was not till the thirteenth that Franceschi discovered a third passage at Celas, seven miles inland, across which he conducted his division. Moore then ordered the Reserve to draw back to the heights in front of Corunna. The French instantly came down to the river, and began to reconstruct the broken bridge. On the night of the thirteenth infantry could cross: on the fourteenth the artillery also began to pass over. But Soult advanced with great caution: here, as at Lugo, he was dismayed to see how much the fatigues of the march had diminished his army: Delaborde’s division was not yet up: those of Merle and Mermet were so thinned by straggling that the Marshal resolved not to put his fortune to the test till the ranks were again full. This delay gave the British general ample time to arrange for his departure. On the thirteenth, he blew up the great stores of powder which the Junta of Galicia had left stowed away in a magazine three miles outside the town. The quantity was not much less than 4,000 barrels, and the explosion was so powerful that wellnigh every window in Corunna was shattered. On the afternoon of the fourteenth the long-expected transports at last ran into the harbour, and Moore began to get on board his sick and wounded, his cavalry, and his guns. The horses were in such a deplorable state that very few of them were worth reshipping: only about 250 cavalry chargers and 700 artillery draught-cattle were considered too good to be left behind[714]. The remainder of the poor beasts, more than 2,000 in number, were shot or stabbed and flung into the sea. Only enough were left to draw nine guns, which the general intended to use if he was forced to give battle before the embarkation was finished. The rest of the cannon, over fifty in number, were safely got on board the fleet. The personnel of the cavalry and artillery went on shipboard very little reduced by their casualties in the retreat. The former was only short of 200 men, the latter of 250: they had come off so easily because they had been sent to the rear since Cacabellos, and had retreated to Corunna without any check or molestation. Along with the hussars and the gunners some 2,500 or 3,000 invalids were sent on board. A few hundred more, too sick to face a voyage, were left behind in the hospitals of Corunna. Something like 5,000 men had perished or been taken during the retreat; 3,500 had embarked at Vigo, so that about 15,000 men, all infantry save some 200 gunners, remained behind to oppose Soult. Considering all that they had gone through, they were now in very good trim: all the sick and weakly men had been sent off, those who remained in the ranks were all war-hardened veterans. Before the battle they had enjoyed four days of rest and good feeding in Corunna. Moreover, they had repaired their armament: there were in the arsenal many thousand stand of arms, newly arrived from England for the use of the Galician army. Moore made his men change their rusty and battered muskets for new ones, before ordering the store to be destroyed. He also distributed new cartridges, from an enormous stock found in the place. The town was, in fact, crammed with munitions of all sorts. Seeing that there would be no time to re-embark them, Moore utilized what he could, and destroyed the rest. SECTION VIII: CHAPTER VITHE BATTLE OF CORUNNA When Sir John Moore found that the transports were not ready on the twelfth, he had recognized that he might very probably have to fight a defensive action in order to cover his retreat, for two days would allow Soult to bring up his main-body. He refused to listen to the timid proposal of certain of his officers that he should negotiate for a quiet embarkation, in return for giving up Corunna and its fortifications unharmed[715]. This would have been indeed a tame line of conduct for a general and an army which had never been beaten in the field. Instead he sought for a good position in which to hold back the enemy till all his impedimenta were on shipboard. There were no less than three lines of heights on which the army might range itself to resist an enemy who had crossed the Mero. But the first two ranges, the Monte Loureiro just above the river, and the plateaux of Palavea and PeÑasquedo two miles further north, were too extensive to be held by an army of 15,000 men. Moore accordingly chose as his fighting-ground the Monte Moro, a shorter and lower ridge, only two miles outside the walls of Corunna. It is an excellent position, about 2,500 yards long, but has two defects: its western and lower end is commanded at long cannon-range by the heights of PeÑasquedo. Moreover, beyond this extreme point of the hill, there is open ground extending as far as the gates of Corunna, by which the whole position can be turned. Fully aware of this fact, Moore told off more than a third of his army to serve as a flank-guard on this wing, and to prevent the enemy from pushing in between the Monte Moro and the narrow neck of the peninsula on which Corunna stands. Soult, even after he had passed the Mero and repaired the bridges, was very circumspect in his advances. He had too much Map of battle of Corunna Enlarge Battle of Corunna. January 16, 1809. As the French pressed westward along these commanding heights, Moore saw that he might very possibly be attacked on the following day, and brought up his troops to their fighting-ground, though he was still not certain that Soult would risk a battle. The divisions of Hope and Baird were ranged along the upper slopes of the Monte Moro: the ten battalions of the former on the eastern half of the ridge, nearest the river, the eight battalions of the latter on its western half, more towards the inland. Each division had two brigades in the first line and a third in reserve. Counting from left to right, the brigades were those of Hill and Leith from Hope’s division, and Manningham and Bentinck from Baird’s. Behind the crest Catlin Crawfurd supported the two former, and Warde’s battalions of Guards the two latter. Down in the hollow behind the Monte Moro lay Paget’s division, close to the village of Eiris[716]. He was invisible to the French, but so placed that he could immediately move out to cover the right wing if the enemy attempted a turning movement. Lastly, Fraser’s division lay under cover in Corunna, ready to march forth to support Paget the moment that fighting should begin[717]. Six of the nine guns (small six-pounders), which Moore had left on shore, were distributed in pairs along the front of Monte Moro: the other three were with Paget’s reserve. After surveying the British position from the PeÑasquedo heights, Soult had resolved to attempt the manoeuvre which Moore had thought most probable—to assault the western end of the line, where the heights are least formidable, and at the same moment to turn the Monte Moro by a movement round its extreme right through the open ground. Nor had it escaped Soult’s force was now considerably superior to that which was opposed to him, sufficiently so in his own estimation to compensate for the strength of the defensive positions which he would have to assail. He had three infantry divisions with thirty-nine battalions (Heudelet was still far to the rear), and twelve regiments of cavalry, with about forty guns[718]. The whole, even allowing for stragglers Soult’s plan was to contain the British left and centre with two of his divisions—those of Delaborde and Merle—while Mermet and the bulk of the cavalry should attack Moore’s right, seize the western end of Monte Moro, and push in between Baird’s flank and Corunna. If this movement succeeded, the British retreat would be compromised: Delaborde and Merle could then assail Hope and prevent him from going to the rear: if all went right, two-thirds of the British army must be surrounded and captured. The movement of masses of infantry, and still more of cavalry and guns, along the rugged crest and slopes of the PeÑasquedo heights, was attended with so much difficulty, that noon was long passed before the whole army was in position. It was indeed so late in the day, that Sir John Moore had come to the conclusion that Soult did not intend to attack, and had ordered Paget’s division, who were to be the first troops to embark, to march down to the harbour[720]. The other corps were to retire at dusk, and go on shipboard under cover of the night. But between 1.30 and 2 o’clock the French suddenly took the offensive: the battery opposite Elvina began to play upon Baird’s division, columns descending from each side of it commenced to pour down into the valley, and the eight cavalry regiments of Lahoussaye Moore welcomed the approach of battle with joy: he had every confidence in his men and his position, and saw that a victory won ere his departure would silence the greater part of the inevitable criticism for timidity and want of enterprise, to which he would be exposed on his return to England. He rode up to the crest of his position, behind Baird’s division, took in the situation of affairs at a glance, and sent back orders to Paget to pay attention to the French turning movement, and to Fraser to come out from Corunna and contain any advance on the part of the enemy’s cavalry on the extreme right. For some time the English left and centre were scarcely engaged, for Merle and Delaborde did no more than push tirailleurs out in front of their line, to bicker with the skirmishers of Hill, Leith, and Manningham. But Bentinck’s brigade was at once seriously assailed: not only were its lines swept by the balls of Soult’s main battery, but a heavy infantry attack was in progress. Gaulois and Jardon’s brigades of Mermet’s division were coming forward in great strength: they turned out of the village of Elvina the light company of the 50th, which had been detached to hold that advanced position, and then came up the slope of Monte Moro, with a dense crowd of tirailleurs covering the advance of eight battalion columns. Meanwhile the third brigade of Mermet’s division was hurrying past the flank of Bentinck’s line, in the lower ground, with the obvious intention of turning the British flank. Beyond them Lahoussaye’s dragoons were cautiously feeling their way forward, much incommoded by walls and broken ground. All the stress of the first fighting fell on the three battalions of Bentinck, on the hill above Elvina. Moore was there in person to direct the fight: Baird, on whom the responsibility for this part of the ground would naturally have fallen, was wounded early in the day, by a cannon-ball which shattered his left arm[721], and was borne to the rear. When the French came near the top of the slope, driving in before them the British skirmishing line, the Commander-in-chief ordered the 42nd and 50th to charge down Here a very heavy combat was raging. Advancing to meet the French attack, these two battalions drove in the tirailleurs with the crushing fire of their two-deep line, and then became engaged with the supporting columns on the slopes above Elvina. For some time the battle stood still, but Moore told the regiments that they must advance to make their fire tell, and at last Colonel Sterling and Major Charles Napier led their men over the line of stone walls behind which they were standing, and pressed forward. The head of the French formation melted away before their volleys, and the enemy rolled back into Elvina. The 42nd halted just above the village, but Napier led the 50th in among the houses, and cleared out the defenders after a sharp fight. He even passed through with part of his men, and became engaged with the French supports on the further side of the place. Presently Mermet sent down his reserves and drove out the 50th, who suffered very heavily: Charles Napier was wounded and taken, and Stanhope the junior major was killed[722]. While the 50th was reforming, Moore brought up the divisional reserve, Warde’s two magnificent battalions of Guards, each of which, in consequence of their splendid discipline during the retreat, mustered over 800 bayonets. With these and the 42nd he held the slope above Elvina in face of a very hot fire, not only from the enemy’s infantry but from the battery on the opposite heights, which swept the ground with a lateral and almost an enfilading fire. It was while directing one of the Guards’ battalions to go forward and storm a large house on the flank of the village that Moore received a mortal wound. A cannon-ball struck him on the left shoulder, carrying it away with part of the collar-bone, and leaving the arm hanging only by the flesh and muscles above While Bentinck’s brigade and the Guards were thus engaged with Mermet’s right, a separate combat was going on more to the west, where Edward Paget and the Reserve division had marched out to resist the French turning movement. The instant that Moore’s first orders had been received, Paget had sent forward the 95th Rifles in extended order to cover the gap, half a mile in breadth, between the Monte Moro and the heights of San Cristobal. Soon afterwards he pushed up the 52nd into line with the riflemen. The other three battalions of the division moved out soon after. Paget had in front of him a brigade—five battalions—of Mermet’s division, which was trying to slip round the corner of Monte Moro in order to take Baird in the flank. He had also to guard against the charges of Lahoussaye’s cavalry more to his right, and those of Franceschi’s chasseurs still further south. Fortunately the ground was so much cut up with rough stone walls, dividing the fields of the villages of San Cristobal and Elvina, that Soult’s cavalry were unable to execute any general or vigorous advance. When the British swept across the low ground, Lahoussaye’s dragoons made two or three attempts to charge, but, forced to advance among walls and ravines, they never even compelled Paget’s battalions to form square, and were easily driven off by a rolling fire. The Reserve division steadily advanced, with the 95th and 52nd in its front, and the horsemen gave back. It was in vain Franceschi’s horsemen meanwhile, on the extreme left of the French line, had at first pushed cautiously towards Corunna, till they saw Fraser’s division drawn up half a mile outside the gates, on the low ridge of Santa Margarita, covering the whole neck of the peninsula. This checked the cavalry, and presently, when Paget’s advance drove in Lahoussaye, Franceschi conformed to the retreat of his colleague, and drew back across the heights of San Cristobal till he had reached the left rear of Soult’s position, and halted in the upland valley somewhere near the village of Mesoiro. We left Bentinck’s and Warde’s brigades engaged on the slopes above Elvina with Mermet’s right-hand column, at the moment of the fall of Sir John Moore. The second advance on Elvina had begun just as the British commander-in-chief fell: it was completely successful, and the village was for the second time captured. Mermet now sent down his last reserves, and Merle moved forward his left-hand brigade to attack the village on its eastern side. This led to a corresponding movement on the part of the British. Manningham’s brigade from the right-centre of the British line came down the slope, and fell upon Merle’s columns as they pressed in towards the village. This forced the French to halt, and to turn aside to defend themselves: there was a long and fierce strife, during the later hours of the afternoon, between Manningham’s two right-hand regiments (the 3/1st and 2/81st) and the 2nd LÉger and 36th of the Line of Reynaud’s brigade. It was prolonged till the Further eastward Delaborde had done nothing more than make a feeble demonstration against Hope’s very strong position on the heights above the Mero river. He drove in Hill’s pickets, and afterwards, late in the afternoon, endeavoured to seize the village of Piedralonga[724], at the bottom of the valley which lay between the hostile lines. Foy, who was entrusted with this operation, took the voltigeur companies of his brigade, and drove out from the hamlet the outposts of the 14th Regiment. Thereupon Hill sent down Colonel Nicholls with three more companies of that corps, supported by two of the 92nd from Hope’s divisional reserve. They expelled the French, and broke the supports on which the voltigeurs tried to rally, taking a few prisoners including Foy’s brigade-major. Delaborde then sent down another battalion, which recovered the southern end of the village, while Nicholls held tightly to the rest of it. At dusk both parties ceased to push on, and the firing died away. The engagement at this end of the line was insignificant: Foy lost eighteen killed and fifty wounded from the 70th of the Line, and a few more from the 86th. Nicholls’s casualties were probably even smaller[725]. Soult had suffered such a decided reverse that he had no desire to prolong the battle, while Hope—who so unexpectedly found himself in command of the British army—showed no wish to make English critics have occasionally suggested that the success won by Paget and Bentinck might have been pressed, and that if the division of Fraser had been brought up to their support, the French left might have been turned and crushed[729]. But considering that Soult had fourteen or fifteen intact battalions left, in the divisions of Merle and Delaborde[730], it would have been well in his power to fight a successful defensive action on his heights, throwing back his left wing, so as to keep it from being encircled. Hope was right to be contented with his success: even if he had won a victory he could have done no more than re-embark, for the army was not in a condition to plunge once more into the Galician highlands in pursuit of Soult, who would have been joined in a few days by Heudelet, and in a week by Ney. The losses suffered by the two armies at the battle of Corunna Soult’s losses are even harder to discover than those of Moore’s army. His chronicler, Le Noble[731], says that they amounted to no more than 150 killed and 500 wounded. The ever inaccurate Thiers reduces this figure to 400 or less. On the other hand Naylies, a combatant in the battle, speaks of 800 casualties; and Moore, borne back to his quarters in Corunna, survived long enough to realize that his army had completely beaten off Soult’s attack, and had secured for itself a safe departure. In spite of his dreadful wound he retained his consciousness to the last. Forgetful of his own pain, he made inquiries as to the fate of his especial friends and dependants, and found strength to dictate several messages, recommending for promotion officers who had distinguished themselves, and sending farewell greetings to his family. He repeatedly said that he was dying in the way he had always desired, on the night of a victorious battle. The only weight on his mind was the thought that public opinion at home might bear hardly upon him, in consequence of the horrors of the retreat. ‘I hope the people of England will be satisfied,’ he gasped; ‘I hope my country will do me justice.’ And then his memory wandered back to those whom he loved: he tried in vain to frame a message to his mother, but weakness and emotion overcame him, and a few minutes later he died, with the name of Pitt’s niece (Lady Hester Stanhope) on his lips. Moore had expressed a wish to be buried where he fell, and his staff carried out his desire as far as was possible, by laying him in a grave on the ramparts of Corunna. He was buried at early dawn on the seventeenth, on the central bastion that looks out towards the land-side and the battle-field. Hard by him lies General Anstruther, who had died of dysentery on the day before the fight. Soult, with a generosity that does him much credit, took care of Moore’s grave, and ordered a monument to be erected over the spot where he fell[735]. La Romana afterwards carried out the Marshal’s pious intentions. Little remains to be said about the embarkation of the army. At nine o’clock on the night of the battle the troops were withdrawn from the Monte Moro position, leaving only pickets along its front. Many regiments were embarked that night, more on the morning of the seventeenth. By the evening of that day all were aboard save Beresford’s brigade of Fraser’s division, which remained to cover the embarkation of the rest. Soult, when he found that the British had withdrawn, sent up some field-pieces to the heights above Fort San Diego, on the southern end of the bay. Their fire could reach the more outlying transports, and created some confusion, as the masters hastily Beresford’s brigade embarked from a safe point behind the citadel on the eighteenth, leaving the town in charge of the small Spanish garrison under General Alcedo, which maintained the works till all the fleet were far out to sea, and then rather tamely surrendered. This was entirely the doing of their commander, a shifty old man, who almost immediately after took service with King Joseph[736]. The returning fleet had a tempestuous but rapid passage: urged on by a raging south-wester the vessels ran home in four or five days, and made almost every harbour between Falmouth and Dover. Many transports had a dangerous passage, but only two, the Dispatch and the Smallbridge, came to grief off the Cornish coast and were lost, the former with three officers and fifty-six men of the 7th Hussars, the latter with five officers and 209 men of the King’s German Legion[737]. So ended the famous ‘Retreat from Sahagun.’ Moore’s memory met, as he had feared, with many unjust aspersions when the results of his campaign were known in England. The aspect of the 26,000 ragged war-worn troops, who came ashore on the South Coast, was so miserable that those who saw them were shocked. The state of the mass of 3,000 invalids, racked with fever and dysentery, who were cast into the hospitals was eminently distressing. It is seldom that a nation sees its troops returning straight from the field, with the grime and sweat of battle and march fresh upon them. The impression made was The accepted view of the present generation is (though most men are entirely unacquainted with the fact) strongly coloured by the circumstance that William Napier, whose eloquent history has superseded all other narratives of the Peninsular War, was a violent enemy of the Tory ministry and a personal admirer of Moore. Ninety years and more have now passed since the great retreat, and we can look upon the campaign with impartial eyes. It is easy to point out mistakes made by the home government, such as the tardy dispatch of Baird’s cavalry, and the inadequate provision of money, both for the division which started from Lisbon and for that which started from Corunna. But these are not the most important causes of the misfortunes of the campaign. Nor can it be pleaded that the ministry did not support Moore loyally, or that they tied his hands by contradictory or over-explicit orders. A glance at Castlereagh’s dispatches is sufficient to show that he and his colleagues left everything that was possible to be settled by the General, and that they approved each of his determinations as it reached them without any cavilling or criticism[738]. Moore must take the main responsibility for all that happened. On the whole, the impression left after a study of his campaign is very favourable to him. His main conception when he marched from Salamanca—that of gaining time for the rallying of the Spanish armies, by directing a sudden raid upon the Emperor’s communications in Castile—was as sound as it was enterprising. The French critics who have charged him with rashness have never But when we turn to the weeks that preceded the advance from Salamanca, and that followed the departure from Astorga, it is only a very blind admirer of Moore who will contend that everything was arranged and ordered for the best. That the army, which began to arrive at Salamanca on November 13, did not make a forward move till December 12 is a fact which admits of explanation, but not of excuse. The main governing fact of its inactivity was not, as Moore was always urging, the disasters of the Spaniards, but the misdirection of the British cavalry and artillery on the roundabout route by Elvas, Talavera, and the Escurial. For this the British general was personally responsible: we have already shown that he had good reasons for distrusting the erroneous reports on the roads of Portugal which were sent in to him, and that he should not have believed them[741]. He ought to have marched on Almeida, with his troops distributed between the three available roads, and should have had a compact The chance that Napoleon turned his whole army upon Madrid, and did not send a single corps in search of the British, gave Moore the grand opportunity for striking at the French communications, which he turned to such good account in the middle of December. But, though he so splendidly vindicated his reputation by this blow, we cannot forget the long hesitation at Salamanca by which it was preceded, nor the unhappy project for instant retreat on Portugal, which was so nearly put into execution. If it had been carried out, Moore’s name would have been relegated to a very low place in the list of British commanders, for he would undoubtedly have evacuated Lisbon, just as he had prepared to evacuate Corunna on the day before he was slain. We have his own words to that effect. On November 25 he put on paper his opinion as to the defence of Portugal. ‘Its frontier,’ he wrote, ‘is not defensible against a superior force. It is an open frontier, all equally rugged, but all equally to be penetrated. If the French succeed in Spain, it will be vain to attempt to resist them in Portugal. The British must in that event immediately take steps to evacuate the country[742].’ It is fortunate that Sir Arthur Wellesley was not of this opinion, or the course of the Peninsular War, and of the whole struggle between Bonaparte and Britain, might have been modified in a very unhappy fashion. So much must be said of Moore’s earlier faults. Of his later ones, committed after his departure from Astorga, almost as much might be made. His long hesitation, as to whether he should march on Vigo or on Corunna, was inexcusable: at Astorga his mind should have been made up, and the Vigo road (a bad cross-route on which he had not a single magazine) should have been left out of consideration. By failing to make up his mind, and taking useless half-measures, Moore deprived himself of the services of Robert Crawfurd and 3,500 of the best soldiers of his army. But, as we have shown elsewhere, the hesitation was in its origin the result of the groundless hypothesis which Moore had formed— Still more open to criticism is the headlong pace at which Moore conducted the last stages of the retreat. Napier has tried to represent that the marches were not unreasonable: ‘in eleven days,’ he wrote, ‘a small army passed over a hundred and fifty miles of good road[743].’ But we have to deduct three days of rest, leaving an average of about seventeen miles a day; and this for January marching, in a rugged snow-clad country, is no trifle. For though the road was ‘good,’ in the sense that it was well engineered, it was conducted over ridge after ridge of one of the most mountainous lands in Europe. The desperate uphill gradients between Astorga and Manzanal, and between Villafranca and Cerezal, cannot be measured in mere miles when their difficulty is being estimated. The marching should be calculated by hours, and not by miles. Moreover, Moore repeatedly gave his men night-marches, and even two night-marches on end. Half the horrors of the dreadful stage between Lugo and Betanzos came from the fact that the army started at midnight on January 8-9, only rested a few hours by day, and then marched again at seven on the evening of the ninth, and through the whole of the dark hours between the ninth and tenth. Flesh and blood cannot endure such a trial even in good weather, and these were nights of hurricane and downpour. Who can wonder that even well-disposed and willing men lagged behind, sank down, and died by hundreds under such stress? All this hurry was unnecessary: whenever the rearguard turned to face the French, Soult was forced to wait for many hours before he could even begin an attempt to evict it. For his infantry was always many miles to the rear, and he could not effect anything with the horsemen of his advanced guard against Paget’s steady battalions—as Cacabellos sufficiently showed. Napier urges that any position that the British took up could be turned by side-roads: this is true, but the flanking movement would always take an inordinate time, and by the moment that the French had started upon it, the British rearguard could have got off in safety, after having delayed the enemy for the best part of a day. If, instead of offering resistance only at Cacabellos, Constantino, and Lugo, Moore had shown fight at three or four other places—e.g. at In making these criticisms we are not in the least wishing to impugn Moore’s reputation as a capable officer and a good general. He was both, but his fault was an excessive sense of responsibility. He could never forget that he had in his charge, as was said, ‘not a British army, but the British army’—the one efficient force that the United Kingdom could put into the field. He was loth to risk it, though ultimately he did so in his admirably conceived march on Sahagun. He had also to think of his own career: among his numerous friends and admirers he had a reputation for military infallibility which he was loth to hazard. Acting under a strong sense of duty he did so, but all the while he was anxiously asking himself ‘What will they say at home?’ It was this self-consciousness that was Moore’s weak point. Fortunately he was a man of courage and honour, and at the critical moment recovered the confidence and decision which was sometimes wanting in the hours of doubt and waiting. Few men have been better loved by those who knew them best. To have served in the regiments which Moore had trained at Shorncliffe in 1803-5, was to be his devoted friend and admirer for life and death. Handsome, courteous, just, and benevolent, |
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