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A history of the Peninsular War, Vol. 6, September 1, 1812-August 5, 1813 cover

A history of the Peninsular War, Vol. 6, September 1, 1812-August 5, 1813

Chapter 8: CHAPTER V
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About This Book

A detailed narrative of the 1812–1813 Peninsular campaigns covering the siege of Burgos, the retreat that followed, the campaign culminating at Vittoria and the subsequent Pyrenean battles. The author combines operational narrative with topographical description, orders of battle and brigade strengths, and contemporary dispatches, diaries and archival documents, supported by maps and illustrations. Strategic, logistical and leadership decisions are assessed alongside source commentary and occasional acknowledgment of limits where personal reconnaissance was unavailable.

SECTION XXXIV: CHAPTER V

THE BURGOS RETREAT. THE OPERATIONS ROUND SALAMANCA. NOVEMBER 1-NOVEMBER 15, 1812

When we turned aside to narrate the operations round Madrid, and Hill’s retreat across the Guadarrama Pass, we left Wellington and his army on November 1st drawn up on the south side of the Douro, with head-quarters at Rueda. Their right flank was covered by the Adaja, the cavalry of their left flank was opposite Toro, where the French were visible in some force, and were known to be repairing the bridge which had been destroyed on October 30th. It was evident that the main body of the enemy still lay about Tordesillas, Simancas, and Valladolid, but its exact strength was not ascertainable. A rumour had crossed the river that Caffarelli and the Army of the North were already returning to their own regions beyond Burgos; it was a true rumour, but Wellington could get no confirmation for it[140]. Till the facts were ascertained, he was bound to consider it probable that the whole body of the enemy—nearly 50,000 strong—which had pursued him since October 22nd was still in his front[141]. With such a force he considered himself unable to cope, if once it crossed the river whose line he was defending. ‘They are infinitely superior to us in cavalry, and from what I saw to-day (October 27) were superior in infantry also. We must retire therefore, and the Douro is no barrier for us.’ He held on however in the position that he had taken up on October 30 till November 5, partly because he was wishing to cover as long as possible Hill’s march to join him from Madrid, partly because Souham made no attempt for some days to debouch in force across the bridges of Tordesillas or Toro.

Meanwhile the near approach of Hill and the force from Madrid, with Soult’s army in pursuit, was modifying the position from day to day. By November 4th Hill, as we have already seen, was at Villacastin with all his five infantry divisions, and the 7,000 or 8,000 Spaniards of Morillo and Carlos de España. He was being followed by the French, but reported that day that he had so far seen no more than four regiments of cavalry and two battalions of infantry. Was this the advanced guard of the whole 60,000 men whom Soult and King Joseph had brought against Madrid, or was it a mere corps of observation? ‘I do not think it clear,’ wrote Wellington to Hill, at 9 o’clock on the morning of November 5th, ‘that the enemy is following you in force. I conceive these four regiments and two battalions to have been sent only to see what you are doing.’[142] This day Wellington could have united himself to Hill without any fear of being hindered by either of the French armies, and could have had the whole of his 65,000 men concentrated between Medina del Campo and Arevalo within thirty-six hours. The enemy, though their two armies taken together outnumbered him by more than 25,000 men, could not possibly unite within a similar time. He had, therefore, the position which enterprising generals most desire, that of lying between the two fractions of a hostile force, which cannot combine easily, and of being able to bring superior numbers against either one of them. One can speculate without much difficulty as to what Napoleon would have done in a similar posture of affairs.

But Wellington, after mature consideration, resolved that it would not be prudent to unite the two halves of his army and to march against one or other of his enemies. It is fortunate that he has left a record of the reasons which prevented him from doing so. They are contained in a dispatch to Lord Bathurst dated November 8th, when he had already committed himself to a wholly different policy. If he were to march with his own army, he wrote, to join Hill about Arevalo, with the object of falling upon the heads of Soult’s columns as they debouched on Villacastin, Souham could cross the Douro unopposed behind him at Toro, whose bridge was now repaired, and get behind his left flank. While he was engaged with Soult and the King, who might conceivably have 50,000 men at the front[143], and be able to offer a good resistance, Souham could close in on his rear, and after cutting him off from Salamanca and his magazines, could attack him, while he was committed to the contest with the army from Madrid.

On the other hand, if he took the second alternative, and brought Hill’s column up to Medina del Campo and Tordesillas, Souham would keep north of the Douro, and could not be assailed: ‘the enemy would not attempt to pass so long as we remained in our position.’ But meanwhile Soult and the King, being unopposed by Hill, might cut him off from his base and magazines, because the line Villacastin-Fontiveros-Salamanca is shorter than that from Tordesillas to Salamanca. ‘The enemy would have had the shortest line to the Tormes by Fontiveros, if they had preferred to march in that direction rather than to follow the march of Sir Rowland Hill’s troops.’

This last argument, it must be confessed, seems disputable, for not only are the roads Rueda-Fuentesauco-Salamanca and Rueda-Pitiegua-Salamanca as a matter of fact no longer than the road Villacastin-Fontiveros-Peñaranda-Salamanca[144], but they were in all respects better roads, through a level country, while the route which Wellington assigns to the enemy (and which Hill actually pursued) passes through much more difficult and hilly regions, and was but a cross-country line of communications. It would seem doubtful also whether there was any probability that the enemy, granting that he had his whole force concentrated at the front, would dare to take this route, since it was the one which made a junction with Souham and the Army of Portugal most difficult to him. Soult and Joseph were very badly informed as to the exact situation of their friends from the North, but it was clear that they would have to be looked for rather in the direction of Tordesillas and Valladolid than in that of Salamanca. As a matter of fact, even after Wellington’s retreat, Soult took the trouble to move on Arevalo, instead of marching on Fontiveros and Peñaranda, for the sole purpose of getting into communication with Souham, whose co-operation was all-important to him.

But putting this particular objection aside, it seems certain that if Wellington had concentrated opposite Souham, behind the Douro, Soult and the King could not have been prevented from getting into touch with the Army of Portugal by taking the route Villacastin, Segovia, Olmedo, keeping the Adaja between them and the Allies, and making for the upper passages of the Douro (Tudela, &c.), which Wellington had surrendered to Souham on October 30th. This fact is conclusive against the policy of drawing up Hill to Rueda and making a move against the northern enemy. Though a march by Soult and Joseph against Salamanca was improbable, there were perfectly sound reasons for rejecting this particular combination.

As much cannot be said on purely strategical grounds for Wellington’s resolution to retreat on Salamanca instead of making a blow at Soult—his old original plan of September and October. Supposing that he had left nothing more than a screen along the Douro to ‘contain’ Souham—say the Galicians and a little cavalry—he could have joined Hill at or near Arevalo on the 5th or 6th, and have calculated on a couple of days’ start before the Army of Portugal could have followed him—it had to concentrate from scattered cantonments and to cross on one or other of two ill-repaired bridges. Meanwhile Soult would have been caught on the 6th with his 40,000 men strung out on many miles of mountain road, and with his supports (the Army of the Centre) still at Madrid—they did not even start for the Guadarrama till that same day. It is clear that the Duke of Dalmatia would have had to retreat in haste, under pain of suffering a disaster: his advance guard might very possibly have been cut up and maltreated, and he would have had to fall back on the passes, where food was unobtainable, and long sojourn impossible.

This would have been the Napoleonic method of dealing with the situation. But it would be absurd to blame Wellington for not adopting such a plan. Now, as always, he had to play the safer game, simply because he could not afford to take risks. Napoleon could face with indifference the loss of 5,000 or 10,000 men from a forced march in bad weather, ending in an operation that miscarried—such had been his march against Sir John Moore in December 1808. Wellington could not. The season at the moment was singularly unfavourable for a sudden offensive stroke, involving rapid movement. The troops were almost worn out: Hill’s column had only just terminated a fatiguing retreat, the troops from Burgos had only been granted five days’ rest since the end of a similar march. The number of sick (about 17,000) was alarming, and many battalions were already reduced to 250 or 300 bayonets. What was worse, straggling had shown itself in the most vexatious form, not only among the troops of Wellington’s own column, but among Hill’s divisions, which ought to have done better after their long sojourn in quiet cantonments round Madrid. A sudden dash to surprise Soult by forced marches upon Villacastin would have been very costly, even before the fighting began. And if the Marshal refused to stand, and simply retired in haste toward the Army of the Centre, it would be impossible to push him far. Meanwhile Souham would be across the Douro, and threatening Salamanca, or approaching Wellington’s own rear. After all there remained the cardinal fact that the enemy had a great numerical superiority: it was even over-estimated in Wellington’s own mind, since he thought that Caffarelli and the Army of the North were still at Valladolid.

Hence came his final decision to retreat by easy marches toward the strong positions about Salamanca, leaving the offensive to the enemy, and granting them the opportunity of uniting their two long-separated armies. Wellington’s own plea in favour of this resolve must be quoted—‘The two corps of this army, particularly that which has been in the North, are in want of rest. They have been continually in the field, and almost continually marching, since the month of January last; their clothes and equipments are much worn, and a period in cantonments would be very useful to them. The cavalry likewise are weak in numbers, and the horses rather low in condition. I should wish to be able to canton the troops for a short time, and I should prefer the cantonments on the Tormes to those farther in the rear. I do not know exactly what the force of the enemy is. The Army of Portugal have about 36,000 men, of which 4,000 is cavalry[145]. The Army of the North have 10,000 men, of which 1,200 is cavalry. It is hard to judge of the exact extent of Soult’s force. It is reported that the enemy brought from Valencia to the Tagus from 40,000 to 45,000 men, but I should consider this to be rather below the number that the Armies of Andalusia and the Centre could bring up, without any troops from the Armies of Aragon and Valencia[146]. Soult is particularly strong in good cavalry, and there are several more regiments in the Army of the Centre. It will remain to be seen what number of troops can be brought to operate against our position (on the Tormes): as unless Madrid should be again abandoned to its fate by the King, he must make arrangements to resist the attacks which Elio and the guerrilleros (the Empecinado, El Medico, &c.) will make on that city, even if General Ballasteros should not move forward in La Mancha. I propose therefore to wait at present on the Tormes, till I shall ascertain more exactly the extent of the enemy’s force. If they should move forward, I can either bring the contest to a crisis on the positions of San Christoval, or fall back to the Agueda, according to what I shall at the time consider to be best for the cause[147].’

Wellington’s estimate of a total force for the enemy of rather more than 90,000 men was not far out, for if he wrongly supposed that Caffarelli might still be at the front with his 10,000 men, he underrated the total of the Armies of the South and Centre very considerably. They had not merely the something over 45,000 men of which he wrote, but nearly 60,000. But he was under the impression that King Joseph would probably leave a large detachment to defend Madrid; and if the enemy came forward against the line of the Tormes with anything less than 70,000 men, he was prepared to defend it. His own force, counting Hill, but allowing for the losses on the retreats from Burgos and Madrid, which would amount to about 2,000 at the most, would be not far below that same figure, including 18,000 Spaniards. But the strength of the position would compensate for the inferior value of these auxiliaries in line of battle. Just at this moment Wellington was not at all contented with the Galicians, whose conduct at Palencia and Villa Muriel had irritated him. ‘I was sorry to observe,’ he wrote to Lord Bathurst, ‘that in the affair of the 25th October, although the Spanish soldiers showed no want of spirit or of disposition to engage the enemy, they were totally unable to move with the regularity and order of a disciplined body—by which alone success can be hoped for in any contest with the French[148].’

There were three possibilities before Wellington when he had made up his mind to retire to the Tormes. The French might be contented with having driven him out of New Castile and away from the Douro, and press him no farther. This would be quite probable, if they had made up their minds to detach a large force to hold Madrid. Or, secondly, they might come up against him to Salamanca, with a force no greater than his own. In this case he was prepared to fight, and hoped to come well out of the business. Thirdly, there was the chance that they might bring forward every available man, and try to evict him from his chosen position: if they were in very great strength he must yield, and go back to the Agueda and the shelter of Ciudad Rodrigo, much contrary to his desire. But he was not intending to give way, and to involve himself in the difficulties of a retreat during the cold and rainy month of November, until he should be convinced that the French were too strong for him and that a rearward move was inevitable. In the Salamanca positions he could force them to show their strength, and yet have the power to draw off if that strength proved to be overpowering.

The retreat towards Salamanca commenced on November 5th, when Wellington both directed Hill to move on Fontiveros and Flores de Avila instead of on Arevalo, and also began to shift his own troops south-westward from the position about Rueda. On this day the 5th Division and Ponsonby’s cavalry brigade marched for Alaejos. The rest of the Army were warned that their movement would begin next day[149]. It was well to keep Souham beyond the Douro, by continuing to show great strength in his front, till Hill should have got some way westward. There was no sign of activity in the enemy’s cantonments, save that troops seemed to be moving towards Toro along the road on the north bank parallel with the river[150]. The retreat was therefore carried out in a leisurely fashion on the 6th-7th-8th: on the 6th Wellington’s head-quarters were at Torrecilla de la Orden, on the 7th and 8th at Pitiegua. The divisions, covered by a cavalry rearguard, and with other cavalry on their flank, thrown out to observe the French at Toro, marched by several converging roads, some going through Alaejos, others through Castrejon and Vallesa, others by Fresno and Cantalpino[151]. There was no hurry, as there was no pursuit, and by the evening of the 8th all were safely placed in their old positions of June, north of the Tormes, in a semicircle from Aldea Lengua to San Cristobal. The weather being still very cold and rainy, as many of the troops were quartered in the villages as possible, and some as far back as Salamanca town; but many had to bivouac in the open. After several nights spent in position, dysentery and rheumatism, which had already been thinning the ranks, became more common than ever.

Hill’s column, meanwhile, having left the main road at Villacastin on the 4th and having followed the bad cross-paths between Belayos and Fontiveros, got into a better route at the latter place, which it reached after a very fatiguing march on the night of the 5th. D’Urban’s Portuguese horse, covering the north flank of the retreat, had a narrow escape of being cut off from the main column, near Villanueva de Gomez, by Soult’s advanced cavalry, which was pushing up northward to Arevalo, but D’Urban got across their front in time. Hill’s Spanish divisions did not follow the same road as the British, but had moved from Villacastin to Arevalo on the 4th, covered by their own cavalry (Penne Villemur): on the 5th they marched from Arevalo to Fontiveros and rejoined Hill’s head-quarters[152]. They had moved along two sides of a triangle, the British only along the base—but the advantage of a good road as opposed to a very bad one compensated for the difference of miles covered. Presumably the order to Hill to take the wretched by-paths that he followed was dictated by the idea that, if these routes were neglected, Soult might send a column along them, and anticipate Hill on the upper Tormes. Nothing of the kind was attempted; the Marshal’s only preoccupation at this time was that he must at all costs look for the Army of Portugal, and his explorations were directed north, toward Arevalo. Hill’s rear was only followed by a vanguard of light cavalry, which behaved with great caution, and contented itself with gathering up stragglers, who fell behind the column by their own fault or from exhaustion. Soult claims to have taken some 600 of them[153], a figure which English authorities reduce by about half: some scores of drunkards were undoubtedly captured in the wine vaults of Villacastin[154].

On the 6th Hill’s column marched from Fontiveros to Peñaranda, the Light Division and Morillo forming the infantry rearguard, covered at a distance by Long’s and Victor Alten’s squadrons. On the 7th the stage covered was from Peñaranda to Coca (not far from Garcia Hernandez) within easy reach of the Tormes, whose passage it was evident would be made without any interference by the enemy. On the 8th, the day on which Wellington entered the San Cristobal position, Hill crossed the Tormes at Alba, leaving Howard’s brigade of the 2nd Division and Hamilton’s Portuguese to hold that town, which lies on the east bank of the river. It was intended to maintain Alba as a sort of tête de pont to cover the bridge. Though dominated by heights a few hundred yards away[155], it was extremely suitable for defence against an enemy unprovided with heavy artillery. It was surrounded by an old Moorish wall, with gaps that could easily be blocked, and its castle, a solid donjon, completely commanded and protected the bridge. Slade’s cavalry brigade remained out as a screen in front of Alba, to watch for the approach of the enemy. When the rest of the troops had crossed the Tormes, Wellington directed Hill to send him the 3rd, 4th, and Light Divisions, España’s Spaniards, and Victor Alten’s and D’Urban’s cavalry. The force left under his lieutenant was now to consist, as in the early summer, of nothing more than the old Estremaduran corps—the 2nd Division, Hamilton’s Portuguese, the British cavalry of Slade and Long, the Portuguese cavalry of Campbell and the Spanish squadrons of Penne Villemur—about 20,000 men of the three nations. These remained behind Alba, in the woods above the Tormes. The troops requisitioned from Hill moved up to Calvarisa de Arriba, Machacon, and other villages in the angle of the Tormes facing Huerta, from whence they could be drawn into the San Cristobal position, by the fords of Aldea Lengua and Santa Marta, if necessary. The whole army, not much under 70,000 strong, was now formed in line from San Cristobal to Alba, waiting to see whether the advance of the enemy would be by the eastern or the northern bend of the river.

The French were slow in making their appearance, and still slower in developing their intentions. For some days there was little more than cavalry seen in front of Wellington’s position. The reason of their tardy appearance was that Soult had carried out his design of uniting with the Army of Portugal before attempting to press the Allies. On the 8th he was still at Arevalo in person, with the main body of his infantry: light cavalry alone had followed Hill. Only on the preceding night had his scouts, pushing out in the direction of Medina del Campo, succeeded in discovering Souham, who had crossed the bridge of Tordesillas on the 6th, after Wellington’s departure from Rueda, and had sent reconnaissances in all directions to look for the Army of the South, whose approach had come to his knowledge not by any dispatch received but only by the vague rumours of the countryside. Meanwhile, he had held back his infantry, being not too sure that Wellington might not have evacuated Rueda only as a trick, to lure him forward: it was possible that he had been joined by Hill, and was waiting a few miles back from the Douro, with the object of falling upon the Army of Portugal with superior strength, as it should be debouching from the bridge of Tordesillas. But the roads were found empty in every direction, and presently Souham’s cavalry came in touch with Soult’s, and both sides discovered the exact situation.

Soult, Jourdan, and the King agreed that their best policy was to bring every man forward from all the three armies, and to force Wellington to battle, if he could be induced to stand his ground. But matters must not be pressed till the Army of the Centre, which had only started from Madrid on the 6th, should come up into line; and some of the divisions of the Army of the South were still far to the rear, having halted about Villacastin and Arevalo. Accordingly, it was not till the 10th that Wellington saw any serious force accumulating before the Salamanca positions, and even then it was the advanced guard alone of the enemy which had arrived. On the 9th Soult’s head-quarters were at Peñaranda, those of the King at Flores de Avila, those of Souham at Villaruela. On the 10th Soult was in person before Alba de Tormes, but had only his cavalry and two infantry divisions in hand; the rest were still in the rear. The Army of the Centre had its vanguard at Macotera; that of the Army of Portugal had reached Babilafuente[156]. The troops were much tried by the weather, and those of Soult’s army in particular were feeling their privations. They had been almost continually on the march since September, having halted but a few days on the borders of Valencia. The bitter November cold of the plateau of Old Castile was felt almost unbearable by men who had been for three years lodged in Andalusia, whose climate is almost sub-tropical and never suffers the extremes that are usual in Northern Spain[157]. Soult’s Army, too, had the worst roads during the last days of the advance, and its commissariat arrangements had gone wrong, while little could be gleaned from the countryside. The horses began to fail, and stragglers to drop behind.

On the 10th Soult resolved to see whether Wellington was disposed to hold Alba de Tormes, or whether the detachment there would blow up the bridge and retire when attacked. Operations began by the driving in of the pickets of Long’s Light Dragoons, who had been kept as far forward as possible till the last moment. They lost a few men in retiring. Soult then placed three batteries on the hill to the east of the town, and commenced to shell it at about two o’clock in the afternoon; shortly afterwards twelve voltigeur companies of the Fifth Division deployed in long lines, and began to press up towards the place, taking every possible advantage of cover, while the heavy columns of the regiments to which they belonged, and of Daricau’s division in support, were visible in the rear.

Alba was held by Howard’s brigade of the 2nd Division (1/50th, 1/71st, 1/92nd); on the other side of the water, as a reserve, were Hamilton’s Portuguese (2nd, 4th, 10th, and 14th Line) and the batteries of Arriaga and Braun, placed in a position from which they could flank any attacks on the bridge. The town had been prepared for defence, the gaps in its walls having been filled up with rough palisading, and its non-existent gates built up with barricades of stone and timber. Each of the three British regiments held one-third of the circumference of the wall, with half its companies in firing-line and the others in reserve under shelter. From two till five, when dusk fell, Soult continued to batter the town; but ‘notwithstanding the shower of shot and shell which plunged and danced about the streets in every direction[158]’ the losses of the defenders were quite moderate: they had been given time on the 9th to extemporize good shelter with barricades and traverses, and kept under cover. Thrice during the afternoon the lines of voltigeurs, who had thrown themselves into the ravines and ditches around the walls, received orders to charge in; but on each occasion the bickering fire which they had hitherto received burst out into a blaze as they approached the walls, and their losses were so great that they had to run back into cover. Hamilton reinforced the garrison at dusk with two of Da Costa’s Portuguese battalions (of the 2nd and 14th Line). At nightfall the French had accomplished absolutely nothing.

Next morning at dawn (about 6 o’clock) the cannonade recommenced, and the French skirmishers once more pushed up towards the walls. Da Costa’s light companies were used against them, as well as those of the three British battalions. But the attack was not pressed home, and after a few hours Soult desisted: the guns were drawn off, the infantry retired. The Marshal wrote to King Joseph that it was no use pressing on: he had thrown 1,500 shot into the place without effect: by persisting ‘nous y perdrions du monde sans résultat[159].’ Wellington had to be attacked, but the way to reach him was certainly—as it appeared—not to be over the bridge of Alba. From the 11th to the 14th Howard’s and da Costa’s brigades held the place without further molestation. Their modest casualty list, on the afternoon of the 10th and the morning hours of the 11th, had been 21 men killed and 3 officers and 89 men wounded: 8 killed and 36 wounded were Portuguese. The 1/92nd with 38 men hit was the battalion that suffered most[160]. The French loss had been a little greater—apparently 2 officers killed and 6 wounded[161], with some 150 casualties in the rank and file: the 45th Ligne with 5 officers hurt contributed the largest total to the list.

The cannonade at Alba settled nothing: on its second day the French commanders were taking counsel together, Soult, the King, Jourdan, with Souham and Clausel (representing the Army of Portugal) were all riding up and down the eastern bank of the Tormes, and seeking for the facts which must determine their next move[162]. Fortunately for the historian, after the debate, which was long and indecisive, Jourdan and Soult each wrote a formal letter of advice to the King that evening. On one point only were they agreed: it would be mad to attack Wellington on the position of San Cristobal, whose strength was well known to all the officers of the Army of Portugal, and had been increased during the last two days by the throwing up of a chain of redoubts armed with artillery. There remained two plans—Jourdan’s was a proposal to force the line of the Tormes between Huerta and Alba, by a frontal attack across the numerous fords which Marmont had used in the campaign of the previous July; Soult’s was a plan for turning Wellington’s right by going some distance up-stream south of Alba, and utilizing the fords of the Tormes between Alba and Salvatierra. In the main the question turned on the practicability of the fords, and this was varying from hour to hour. The rain, which had made Hill’s retreat and Soult’s advance so miserable to the troops, had stopped for the moment, and the river was falling. Of the numerous passages about Huerta, La Encina and Villa Gonzalo, Wellington had considered on the 9th that none were really practicable: on the 10th he wrote to Hill that ‘the river has certainly fallen since yesterday evening, but I believe that no infantry soldier can pass yet, even if a cavalry soldier can, and small picquets guarding the fords and charging resolutely the first men who pass, will effectually prevent the passage[163].’ Hill was not so certain that the enemy could not force his way over the river, and on the 11th Wellington conceded that some of the fords had certainly become practicable for cavalry, if not for infantry[164]. Considering the immense superiority of the French in the mounted arm, it was conceivable that they might attack many fords at once, drive in the inferior cavalry-screen of the Allies, and then throw bridges across and attack the British centre. In that case the army would stand to fight, not behind the river bank but in front of the position of the Arapiles. It would be necessary to close in the flanks for a battle; all or most of the troops on the San Cristobal position would cross the Tormes, just as they had done in July, and at the same time Hill would draw in from Alba and form the southern wing of the line, in the woods which had sheltered Marmont’s beaten army on the night of the great victory. But Alba was not to be abandoned[165]: its castle was susceptible of a long defence, and effectually blocked the best passage of the Tormes. Wellington selected a battalion of Galician infantry (Monterey, under Major José Miranda) which was to be placed in the castle, and to hold it as long as possible, even when it should (as was inevitable) be cut off from the allied army by the advance of the French. The position was explained to the Spanish major, who (as we shall see) behaved most admirably, blocked the Alba line of communication for many days, and finally escaped by a sudden sally from what looked like an inevitable surrender.

The two plans which were submitted to King Joseph on the evening of November 11 both presupposed the practicability of the fords of the Tormes. The river must evidently have fallen considerably since Wellington surveyed it on the 9th, and drew his conclusion that it was a barrier not to be crossed by any body of troops, but at most passable by individual horsemen.

Jourdan wrote: ‘When we arrived on the heights above the right bank of the Almar, Your Majesty was struck with the advantages that the ground presented. I myself at once conceived the hope of forcing the English Army to a general action which must involve its destruction. Wellington’s position is too long—extending from the heights of San Cristobal on the right bank of the Tormes as far as Alba. The Imperial Army could pass the river at almost any spot between Huerta and the point where the Almar flows into the Tormes. The immense plain on the opposite bank would permit the whole of our cavalry to cross and form up in front, to protect the passage of our infantry. After that, the Army would march in mass against the English centre (which appears to be between Calvarisa de Abaxo and Calvarisa de Arriba), and would break through the enemy’s line. I do not disguise from myself that the piercing of the hostile centre has its difficulties, but I should think that 80,000 French troops could surmount them. Your Majesty must have remarked that Soult, who at first was all for marching toward the upper Tormes, was struck with the advantages which this ground offered, and came round to my opinion. But subsequently he got talking with General Clausel, about the plan for marching up the river, and returned to his first view, which he induced Clausel to support. Both of them are acquainted with the localities over which they wish to move the armies, which gives weight to their opinion. I do not wish to deny that Soult’s proposition is the more prudent, and if we want to fight we ought to do so on ground which Wellington has not chosen, and which is less advantageous to the enemy than that which he now occupies. But I fear that we should not obtain from this movement so much advantage as Soult appears to expect.

‘For he seems to think that Wellington will be forced to retreat on Ciudad Rodrigo, while it is quite possible that he may choose to retreat on San Felices, in which case our movement to the upper Tormes compels him to retire indeed, but enables him to avoid a battle. For my part I think that our superior numbers make a general action desirable. I conclude, then, that Your Majesty may adopt Soult’s proposition so far as the movement up the Tormes goes. If so, I believe that the Army of Portugal must follow the Army of the South. The enemy has all his forces united: it would be too dangerous for us to divide ours[166].’

Soult’s letter of the evening of the 12th, to the King, runs as follows:

‘The passage which we reconnoitred a little below Villa Gonzalo unites all the qualities which one could desire, and I should be in favour of it, were it not for the fact that after debouching on this point we should have to form up for the attack under the fire of the enemy, and should be compelled immediately to assail his whole army, in a position which he knows and has thought out, and where very probably he has entrenched himself. I think, therefore, that it would be more prudent and more advantageous to force him to shift his position, and to commit himself to an action on ground which we and not he will have chosen—or else to retreat[167]. I have sent three officers along the upper Tormes: they have reconnoitred and found practicable three fords between Exeme and Galisancho[167].’

From the comparison of these two interesting dispatches we see that Jourdan desired a battle in the style of Wagram, where the attacking army crosses a river, and breaks through the over-long line of an enemy deployed along heights at some distance from the water’s edge. But Soult (to use an anachronism) feared a battle in the style of Fredericksburg, where the assailant, debouching from narrow fords or bridges, attacks in heavy masses a well-prepared position, held by an enemy who has had time to settle down comfortably into it, and to entrench the most suitable points. Soult was eminently justified in his criticism of Jourdan’s plan: the most noteworthy remark to be made upon it is that this was the battle which Wellington wanted. He wished to be attacked frontally by the fords between Alba and Huerta, and had made all his arrangements. On the other hand, Jourdan’s criticism of Soult was equally cogent. If the French armies, keeping in a mass, crossed the upper Tormes far above Alba, Wellington had the choice between fighting in a new position (e. g. behind the river Zurgain), and absconding, before his flank should be threatened seriously. He could, indeed, move off, practically unmolested, towards Ciudad Rodrigo, and not merely (as Jourdan suggested) by the more northern line toward San Felices and Almeida.

Joseph, as was perhaps natural, gave his final decision in favour of Soult’s plan. It was true that he had a marked superiority in numbers, and that a defeat of a crushing sort inflicted on Wellington would go far to end the Peninsular War. No such army on the French side had ever been in line on a single field before in Spain. Jourdan’s estimate of 80,000 men was a decided understatement, even allowing for the fact that Soult’s divisions had already many stragglers, and that Souham had left a ‘minimum’ garrison at Valladolid. Something much more like the 90,000 men at which Wellington estimated the three united French armies must have been collected[168]. On the other hand there is a dreadful risk taken when an army endeavours to cross a group of fords, supplemented at the best by some hastily constructed bridges, in face of an enemy known to be wary, active, and determined. What might not happen if Wellington fell upon the leading divisions, while the rest were crowding down to their crossing points? Or who could guarantee that sudden rain in the Sierra de Francia might not cause the Tormes to rise three feet on the battle day, and separate the troops who had crossed from those still on the eastern bank? Every one at the French head-quarters must have remembered Essling, and the narrow escape from supreme disaster there suffered from the caprice of the Danube.

On the whole, the prospect of the enormous advantage to be got by inflicting a complete disaster on Wellington did not balance the possibility of loss that might follow an unsuccessful frontal attack upon his position. Joseph made his choice in favour of Soult’s plan for a flank march to the upper Tormes. This manœuvre would take several days to execute, as the Army of the South had to be moved to its left from all its cantonments facing Alba, while the Armies of the Centre and Portugal had to wait till this flank march was finished, in order to come up and take over the former positions of Soult’s divisions. For all the French chiefs were agreed that the armies must keep closed up, and that no gap must be allowed to come into existence between them. When the Army of the South should begin to cross the Tormes, the Army of Portugal must be in direct support of it, and must make no separate attack of its own to the north of Alba, in the localities which Jourdan had found so tempting. The whole of the 12th and 13th November was expended in making this shift of troops southward. Soult moved his army up-stream and placed his head-quarters at Anaya, six miles south of Alba, above the fords of Galisancho, where the crossing was to take place. The King moved to Valdecarros, a little to Soult’s right, with the Army of the Centre. The Army of Portugal, leaving its cavalry and two infantry divisions[169] as a rearguard about Huerta, moved the other six to the heights above Alba, where it was hoped that it might cross, when Soult’s manœuvre should force Hill to abandon that place and draw back.

The King took two unexpected measures before passing the Tormes. The first was to supersede Souham as commander of the Army of Portugal—the excuse used was that he was indisposed, and not up to his task: the real cause was that he was considered to have shown tardiness and over-caution in his manœuvres since October 30th.[170] Drouet was taken from the command of the Army of the Centre, and given the more important charge of that of Portugal. The other, and more surprising, order was one which made over—as a temporary arrangement—the charge of the Army of the Centre to Soult, who thus had nearly 60,000 men put at his disposition. The object was, apparently, to give him ample forces for the move now about to be made at his request, and on his responsibility.

Wellington was evidently somewhat puzzled at the posture of the French on the 12th-13th November. He could not make out any reduction of the French forces between Huerta and Alba, where indeed the whole Army of Portugal still lay, but now with an accumulation of forces on its left and a weaker right. Yet so long as the enemy was still in force at Huerta he could not evacuate the San Cristobal position, in order to send reinforcements to Hill. Reconnaissances by French cavalry above Alba were reported each day by outlying picquets of Hamilton’s Portuguese, who were watching the course of the upper Tormes[171]. But no solid force was sent to back these outlying posts: Wellington considered it unsafe to extend his already lengthy front. The disposition of the troops on his right wing was still that Hill lay in the woods behind Alba, with the 3rd and 4th Divisions at Calvarisa de Abaxo as a reserve for him, while Long’s and D’Urban’s cavalry carefully watched the course of the river from Alba to opposite Huerta. On the north of the Tormes Pack’s and Bradford’s Portuguese were on the river-bank at Aldea Lengua and Cabrerizos, watching the two French divisions at Huerta. The 1st, 5th, 6th, 7th Divisions and the Galicians held the San Cristobal position, with Anson’s, Victor Alten’s, and Ponsonby’s cavalry far out in their front. Nothing hostile could be discovered in this direction nearer than the two divisions of the Army of Portugal at Huerta. Yet Wellington did not like to weaken his left flank: at any moment the enemy at Huerta might come forward, and might prove to be the vanguard of an advancing army, not the rearguard of one about to go off southward. This hypothesis seemed all the more possible because Maucune, on the morning of the 12th, had made a reconnaissance in force against Pack’s Portuguese, at Aldea Lengua: he deployed three brigades, engaged in a lively skirmish, and only retreated when British reinforcements began to come up. On the following day Wellington, wishing to see whether Maucune was on the move, beat up his quarters with strong reconnaissances of cavalry, and found him still in position[172]. Till Maucune should leave Huerta, in advance or retreat, the situation was not clear. For these two days, it seems, Wellington was still thinking it possible that he might be attacked either on the San Cristobal position or by the fords between Huerta and Alba. But he was quite aware that the other possibility (a flank movement of Soult by the upper Tormes) existed, and had sent a staff officer with a party of the 13th Light Dragoons to cross the river at Salvatierra and ascertain the southernmost point to which the French had moved[173]. And he had given Hill elaborate orders as to what should be done if he were turned and driven in. Whether there would be a battle to follow, or a retreat on Ciudad Rodrigo, depended on the exact movements of the enemy, and the force that he brought up to the crucial point. If the French split themselves into many columns, with long gaps between them, there was still a chance of administering a second lesson like that of July 22nd on much the same ground.

  The Roads of the SALAMANCA ALMEIDA REGION
illustrating the SALAMANCA Retreat of November 1812

On the early morning of the 14th the crisis came. At dawn Pierre Soult’s Light Cavalry crossed the Tormes in force at three fords between Galisancho and Lucinos, which were perfectly passable, the water only coming up to the horses’ bellies. The Portuguese picquets beyond the river gave the alarm, but had to retire at once; some few were cut off by the chasseurs. Two divisions of dragoons followed Vinot’s and Avy’s light horse, and when they had scoured the west bank of the Tormes up and down and found no enemy in force, the infantry began to pass, not only by the fords but by several trestle bridges which were constructed in haste. As soon as there were a couple of divisions across the river, they advanced to a line of heights a couple of miles ahead, where there was a fair defensive position above the village of Martin Amor. By the afternoon the whole Army of the South was across the water, and had taken up a more advanced line towards Mozarbes, while the Army of the Centre was beginning to follow. It had been hoped that the Army of Portugal would be able to cross at or near Alba, for Soult supposed it likely that Hill would evacuate that town, when he saw 40,000 men arrayed behind his left flank. But though Hill did withdraw Howard’s and da Costa’s brigades in the afternoon, he left Miranda’s Spanish battalion in the castle, and blew up the bridge. As the castle commanded the ruined structure and the ford near it, and fired furiously on both, there was no chance of passing here or of repairing the ruined arch. Drouet found that he would have to march up-stream, and made his crossing at Torrejon, four miles south of Alba and near the fords that Soult had employed. He had the bulk of his army over the river by the afternoon, and his two rear divisions under Maucune, which had arrived late after a forced march from Huerta, crossed at dusk[174]. The whole 90,000 men of the French Army were over the Tormes that night, bivouacking on the heights from Torradillos to Valdenuerque, in front of Martin Amor. The operation had been neatly carried out, and was quite successful.

Wellington had early knowledge of the French movement from two sources—his cavalry told him almost at daybreak that the French camps above Huerta were empty, and soon after came Hill’s news that Soult had begun to cross the Tormes in force at Galisancho. Quite early in the morning Wellington rode out in haste, to take command in person on the threatened front, after having issued orders that the whole of the troops on the San Cristobal position should follow him. He himself pushed on with his staff, met Hill in the wood south of the Arapiles, and told him to watch the roads from Alba with the 4th Division and Hamilton’s Portuguese. Then, taking the strong 2nd Division—8,000 infantry—and all the cavalry brigades that had been watching the middle Tormes (Slade’s, Long’s, and D’Urban’s, and Penne Villemur’s Spaniards) he pushed on to ‘contain’ and possibly to attack Soult[175]. But on arriving in front of Mozarbes a little before noon, he saw that the enemy had already three or four divisions and 4,000 horse drawn up in line to cover the passage of the Tormes by the rest of his army. He had arrived too late to check Soult’s leading columns, and if he sent for Hill and the other troops which lay to his rear, he would, even when they arrived, have only 25,000 men available to attack an enemy who had already as great a force in line, and who was receiving fresh troops every moment from the fords[176]. Nothing could be done till the great reserve from the San Cristobal position came up, and they were not due till late in the day—the last of them indeed did not cross the bridge of Salamanca till the following morning.

At dusk Wellington ordered Hill to fall back with his infantry from the woods in front of Alba to the old position of the Arapiles, but kept his cavalry to the front, to cover his own line of battle as long as possible. Their screen of vedettes was placed in the line of woods from Miranda de Azan to Utrera, south of the heights on which Marmont’s army had taken up its position upon July 22nd. Till this cavalry was driven in, the French, on the rising ground above Mozarbes, could not make out the British position.

On the morning of the 15th Wellington had all his troops in hand, though the last divisions from San Cristobal did not come up till some hours after daybreak. But the enemy had also brought up every man to the front, being resolved to sacrifice not even the smallest part of his numerical superiority. Some critics, among them Jourdan[177], hold that Wellington, since he was determined not to fight save at advantage, should have commenced his retreat on Ciudad Rodrigo the moment that he saw the whole of the three hostile armies massed in his front, and before they could begin to debouch from their position on the heights of Mozarbes. And it is probable that if he had directed the troops from San Cristobal to take the roads towards the Agueda, instead of bringing them up to the Arapiles position, and if he had used Hill’s corps and all his cavalry as a rearguard only, he would have reached Ciudad Rodrigo with a smaller loss of life than was actually to be spent. The French would have had to start their pursuit from a more distant and a less favourable point.

It seems, however, that Wellington was prepared to risk a battle, even against the superior numbers opposed to him, supposing that the enemy played his game badly. He resolved to take up the excellent position along the Arapiles heights which he had held on July 22nd, and to stand to fight against any frontal assault—the advantage of the ground, with its bold slopes, good cover for reserves, and favourable emplacements for artillery, were evidently in his eyes so great that he was prepared to risk a general engagement with 20,000 men less in line than had his adversaries. As the morning drew on, he had his army formed up from Calvarisa de Arriba to a point not far from Miranda de Azan. The line was longer than in the battle of July 22nd, for the troops were much more numerous. The extreme left wing was formed by the 4th Division holding the heights and village of Calvarisa de Arriba (which had been in Foy’s hands on July 22). The 2nd Division and Hamilton’s Portuguese were holding both the Arapiles—the French as well as the English—and the ground from thence as far as the village of the same name. Westward of Hill’s troops lay the 3rd Division and Morillo’s Spaniards. The second line, composed of troops which had come down from San Cristobal, consisted of the Light Division (on the left), Pack and Bradford, the Galicians, and the 5th, 6th, and 7th Divisions. The 1st Division was placed as a somewhat ‘refused’ right flank protection for the whole army—much as Pakenham and the 3rd Division had been in July. It lay about Aldea Tejada on the Zurgain river, several miles to the right rear of the 3rd Division. The object for which it was detailed to this separate duty was the same as that for which Pakenham had been told off at the earlier crisis—to protect the Ciudad Rodrigo road, and to be ready to outflank and intercept any attempt which the French might make to turn the British position in this direction. The bulk of the cavalry was also placed on the right wing, to cover the end of the infantry line. Only the Portuguese horse of D’Urban and Campbell, Penne Villemur’s Spaniards, and Long’s brigade were on the left beyond Calvarisa de Arriba. The rest, five British brigades, lay out in the direction of Miranda de Azan and in front of Aldea Tejada. Bock’s brigade on the extreme right long remembered their position of this morning because they were placed on ‘Pakenham’s Hill’, the spot where the 3rd Division had fallen upon Thomières in the old battle. The ground was thickly strewn with the skeletons of the French who had then fallen, still lying unburied and in a horrible state of complete preservation: the horses’ hoofs were continually setting the skulls rolling[178]. Behind Bock were Ponsonby’s, Victor Alten’s, Anson’s, and Slade’s brigades, a formidable mass, yet far less in strength than the innumerable cavalry of the Armies of the South and Centre, which lay opposite them 7,000 strong[179]. Nothing was more uncertain than the move which the French would next make. If it should turn out to be one which did not fit in with Wellington’s plans, there would be no alternative but a retreat on Ciudad Rodrigo. Wherefore all the divisions were directed to send off their baggage half a march to the west, and preparations were made to destroy so much of the magazines in Salamanca city as could not be carried off. The commissariat officers were already packing up all for which transport could be found, and sending it forward. By an error of judgement on the part of the Quartermaster-General, James Willoughby Gordon—not the first of his blunders in this campaign—all this valuable store was started on the road Salamanca-Rollan-San Felices, which was the safest by far of all those open to the Army if a retreat should become necessary, and the farthest from any probable line of advance that the French could take. But it had the disadvantage of being far away from the other roads by which the Allied Army might have to move, and the unfortunate result followed on the 16th-17th-18th that the food was moving on the northern road, and the troops—starving for want of it—on three other roads parallel to it at a distance of twenty miles to the south. Soldiers must be fed, or they straggle and turn to marauding, and it is of no profit to have food if it be not in the right place at the right moment. These simple facts were to cause dire trouble during the next three days.

Meanwhile, from a comparatively early hour on the 15th it became evident that Soult was not going to play the game that Wellington desired. It was a miserable morning of drifting rain, and reconnaissances had to be pushed far forward to get any clear information. But the reports soon began to come in, to the effect that the enemy was keeping closed up, that he was constructing trenches and abattis on the heights of Mozarbes[180] and that he had pushed out an immense force of cavalry on his left wing, under cover of which infantry divisions were clearly to be seen working westward. Evidently Soult was aiming at the roads toward Ciudad Rodrigo; but he was not (like Marmont on July 22) letting his army break up into unconnected sections, and was keeping it in an unbroken line. The entrenchments on the hills showed that he was prepared to receive in position any frontal attack that Wellington might be prepared to direct against him. His motions were slow, not only because of his cautious method of procedure, but from the badness of the country roads, already made deep and miry from the rain, over which he was moving his left wing towards the west. The Army of Portugal was now in line on his right, and its cavalry was feeling its way forward towards Hill’s flank. But obviously the danger was not on this side, where the bulk of the French infantry was standing fast in position: it was the other wing, Soult’s troops alone, which was in decided motion, and that for a flank march, not for anything approaching a frontal attack.

All this was most disappointing: Wellington at once made up his mind that since the enemy was not about to attack his position, and since it would be madness on his part to take the offensive and assail the well-placed array of the French, there was no alternative save instant retreat. It must not be delayed, because, when Soult should have moved his left wing a little farther on, he would be controlling the road that runs from Mozarbes to Tamames and Ciudad Rodrigo, parallel to that via Matilla and San Muñoz to the same destination, over which Wellington’s natural line of retreat lay.

At about two o’clock in the afternoon on the 15th the British commander-in-chief made up his mind that he must delay no longer, and ordered his army to march to its right, in the two lines in which it was already arranged. The mass of cavalry in front of Aldea Tejada remained stationary, to cover the movement of the infantry behind its rear: the smaller body of horse on the left held its ground about the Arapiles, till all the divisions had passed on, and then followed as a rearguard. The entire army marched in fighting trim: if attacked at any moment it had only to front to its left flank, and then would be in order of battle. The movement had to be slow for the first few miles, since neither the front nor the rear column was on a good track until it reached the river Zurgain, and there fell into one of the three parallel roads which run from Salamanca to Ciudad Rodrigo. Moreover the rain, which had been a mere drizzle in the morning, turned to a heavy torrential downpour just as the army was starting. The country paths became quagmires in a few minutes; and when the usually insignificant Zurgain came in sight it was already a roaring river, only to be forded with care. The march was toilsome in the extreme, and the troops, who had expected and desired a general action, were sodden and sulky. ‘I never saw the men in such a bad humour,’ observes one intelligent eye-witness[181]. The march was absolutely unmolested by the French, and the columns, having crossed the Zurgain, fell into the three parallel roads which run side by side for many miles from Salamanca—the southern one to Matilla, the central one to Maza de San Pedro and San Muñoz, the northern one (the so-called Calzada de Don Diego) to Aldehuela de la Boveda[182]. Of these the second is the regular high road from Salamanca to the frontier, the other two secondary lines of communication. They are extraordinarily convenient for the retreat of an army which must be kept together, the distance between the two side-roads and the central one being seldom over five miles, and often no more than three. The only misfortune was that the train of transport had gone off, by Colonel Gordon’s error[183], on an entirely different and divergent route, towards Rollan and San Felices. The army, after falling into the designated roads, pursued its way till after dark and bivouacked in the patches of forest on the farther side of the Valmusa river, about 10 miles from Salamanca. The head-quarters were at the village of Carnero on the central road[184]. The night was miserable, no food was distributed, and though wood was abundant it was hard to light fires, owing to the incessant rain. The troops were tired and footsore, and straggling had once more begun.

Meanwhile there was quite as much discontent in the French ranks as in those of Wellington. There had been a general feeling that since the whole force of the three armies of the South, Centre, and Portugal had been successfully concentrated on the Mozarbes position, and since the enemy was known to be much inferior in numbers, something decisive ought to have happened on the 15th November. That no collision whatever took place must be attributed partly to the bad weather, but much more to the caution of Soult, who was this day determined above all things that he would not suffer the fate of Marmont on this same ground, by allowing any dislocation to take place between the various sections of his army.

At nine o’clock in the morning it had been reported that—so far as the misty rain allowed of certain observation—Wellington was in line of battle on the Arapiles position. Soult continued to move his cavalry forward with caution, and to extend his left towards Azan. A little before noon Joseph and Jourdan joined Soult on the heights above Mozarbes, the Allies being still stationary. Jourdan suggested that the Army of Portugal should move forward on the right and attack that flank of the hostile line which rested on the Arapiles[185]: this was tried in a tentative way, apparently with the object of holding Hill’s divisions to their ground, and preventing them from moving off. But it led to no more than some bickering between the caçadores of the 2nd Division and the advanced light cavalry and voltigeurs of the French right, in the woods south of the greater Arapile. The Army of Portugal made no real attempt to close in. A partial attack on Wellington’s line would, indeed, have been unwise. The only chance would have been for Soult to march in upon its right while D’Erlon was pressing in with decision against its left. But Soult, though requested by King Joseph to move forward in force, continued his cautious flanking movement to the westward, and did not carry out a precise and definite order to push out his cavalry and drive in the British squadrons which lay in front of Wellington’s right. Then came the torrential rain which set in about two o’clock, just as Wellington ordered his army to move off, still preserving its battle order, toward the river Zurgain. His departure was only partially visible, and no attempt was made to incommode it. A cavalry officer of the Army of the South writes: ‘The rain falling in deluge soon rendered the whole field of operations one vast and deep quagmire. The smallest dips in the ground became dangerous precipices. The darkness, continually growing blacker, soon added to the horror of the scene, and made us absolutely unable to act. The muskets of the infantry were no longer capable of being discharged. The cavalry was not only unable to manœuvre, but even to advance on the slippery, sodden, and slimy soil.... We lay down on the field drenched by the rain, with the mud up to our knees[186].’

Jourdan says that it was pitch dark by four o’clock, the gloom of the terrible downpour melting early into the darkness of the night. There was much recrimination between the French leaders. Joseph wrote to the Minister of War that he tried to bring on decisive action between eleven o’clock and two, and failed entirely by the fault of Soult. He accused him of deliberately wasting two hours by vain excuses, and suggested that the real explanation of his sluggishness was that he knew the incapacity of his brother Pierre Soult, commanding the light horse of the left wing, and thought that he would get matters into a mess if he were charged with the duty of pressing Wellington’s cavalry in front of him[187]. ‘He knows the extent of his brother’s capacity, and fears to compromise him. For this reason his light horse is always kept close in to the rest of the army, and never advances without being immediately supported by the remainder of his cavalry, while the Duke of Dalmatia always marches himself in his brother’s company.’

Such a theory is, of course, quite insufficient to explain Soult’s reluctance to engage on this day. The simple fact was that, after Albuera, he had a wholesome dread of attacking a British army in position, if it could be avoided, and preferred to manœuvre it from its chosen ground, even if he thereby sacrificed the possibility of a great victory, and secured only an illusory advantage.

On finding that Wellington had got off unmolested, and that Soult had made no attempt to drive in the cavalry which was covering his retreat, King Joseph, by Jourdan’s advice, issued orders which proved that both he and his mentor thought that the game was up. Instead of setting every man upon the track of the allied columns, Joseph ordered the whole Army of Portugal, as well as his own Guard, to march upon the deserted town of Salamanca, while Soult alone was permitted to pursue the retreating foe. Now since the King was as much convinced as either of the Marshals that, if Wellington was to be brought to book, every man of the 90,000 French troops must be ready to attack him, it is clear that the order to the Army of Portugal to desist from the pursuit meant that no general action was now to be hoped for. Jourdan could indulge in the malicious satisfaction of the adviser who, having seen his counsel rejected, is able to say ‘I told you so!’ to his comrade, when bad luck has supervened. He had prophesied that, if Soult were allowed to try his flank move to the upper Tormes, Wellington would get off without harm[188]. This had now happened; it was judged that a further pursuit by the whole army was useless, and the 40,000 men of the Army of Portugal and the Royal Guards were directed to seize Salamanca and halt there. Clearly if Soult’s 50,000 men went on, and Wellington suddenly turned to bay, the pursuers could not dare to bring him to action, since they would be much outnumbered. Evidently, all that could now be hoped was that Soult might worry the rear of the retreating enemy, and pick up stragglers and baggage.

After dark the light cavalry of the Army of Portugal and Foy’s infantry division marched on Salamanca, and reached it that night, after much toilsome trudging over inundated paths: ‘The plain was under water: for half the way our infantry were walking through water knee deep: if the moon had not risen we should never have found our way there.’ The bridge of Salamanca was discovered to be unbroken, and some half-emptied magazines of flour and rum were captured. A rearguard of British cavalry—half a troop of the 2nd Hussars of the German Legion—evacuated the place on the arrival of the French, covering a mass of stragglers, sutlers, and Spanish refugees, who found their way to Ledesma and from thence to the Portuguese frontier[189]. Foy, following them forty-eight hours later, moved to Ledesma, and then to Zamora, where he took up cantonments. The cavalry of the Army of Portugal, starting earlier, went to feel for Wellington’s rear on the road towards Aldehuela de la Boveda, leaving the pursuit on the other two routes to Soult. The rest of the Army remained cantoned at Salamanca, which had been well plundered by the first division that arrived[190]. King Joseph reviewed it, outside the city, on November 17—all in the rain—a melancholy ceremony. The men and officers were alike weary and discontented. ‘We had an army stronger by a third than Wellington’s, infinitely superior in cavalry and artillery. Confident expectation of victory was in every man’s head. The chance had come of beating the English—perhaps of driving them from the Peninsula. This fine opportunity, so splendid, so decisive, with so few adverse chances, has been let slip[191].’ So wrote the disappointed Foy. He adds, ‘The King does not know how to show to advantage before his troops; he can speak with effect neither to the officers nor to the rank and file: he got absolutely wet through, rode home, and went to bed.’