The dawn of July 23rd revealed to Wellington that the French army had passed the Tormes at the bridge and forts of Alba, and that nothing remained on the western bank of the river save small parties of fugitives and wounded, who had lost their way in the forest. Some of these were gleaned up by Anson’s and Bock’s brigades of cavalry, who were pushed forward to search the woods and seek for the enemy. Anson’s patrols reached the bridge, and found a French rearguard watching it. This was composed of Foy’s division, to whom Clausel had committed the covering of his retreat. It cleared off, after firing a few shots. Foy had been told to block the passage till 9 o’clock, but went off long before, when the disordered main body had got a good start. On the report that he was gone, Wellington sent Anson’s squadrons across the bridge of Alba de Tormes, while Bock forded the river lower down at La Encina. The state of the roads, strewn with baggage and wounded men, showed that the French had used all the three roads leading east from Alba[603], and were on their way to Arevalo, not towards their base at Valladolid: to have marched in that direction would have brought them right across the front of the advancing British army. Wellington sent out detachments on all the roads which the enemy had taken, but urged the main pursuit by the central and most important road, that by Garcia Hernandez on Peñaranda. Contrary to his wont, he pushed on this day with great celerity, riding himself with the head of the column formed by the main body of Anson’s light dragoons. This vanguard was followed, at some distance, by the 1st and Light Divisions. Those infantry units which had fought hard on the previous day were allowed a rest. About seven miles beyond Alba de Tormes Anson’s patrols came upon a regular rearguard of the enemy, behind the Caballero brook (a tributary of the Almar), in and about the village of Garcia Hernandez. This was, of course, Foy and the French 1st Division, the only troops in Clausel’s army which had not been seriously engaged in the battle. They were accompanied by a battery and a brigade of Curto’s chasseurs. Around and about the formed troops scattered parties were visible—the village was full of men drawing water from the wells. On the approach of the British cavalry column—the infantry were still miles behind—Foy prepared to resume his retreat, the cavalry drew up on a rising ground, to the north of Garcia Hernandez, to cover the movement: the leading regiments of the foot started off at once along the high-road, the others halted for a space, to the right of the chasseurs, out of sight of the British, whose view of them was intercepted by the slope on which the French cavalry were drawn up.

Wellington, as it seems, saw only the hostile squadrons, and resolved to drive them off without delay, in order to be able to press in upon the infantry columns which were retiring farther away. He directed Anson to attack the chasseurs with so much of his brigade as was up at the front: several squadrons were absent, some guarding the prisoners of yesterday, others exploring on distant roads. Two squadrons each of the 11th and 16th Light Dragoons delivered the frontal attack on the French brigade, while the leading squadrons of Bock’s brigade, which was coming up rapidly from the flank, and was not yet formed in line, were to turn its right wing.

The French light cavalry, which had been much mauled on the preceding day, and was evidently in no fighting mood, gave way precipitately before the attack of the Light Dragoons, and rode off in confusion to their own right rear. There was no time for Bock’s Germans to come up with them: but the leading squadrons of the 1st Heavy Dragoons of the Legion, pushing on in pursuit, received, to their surprise, a heavy volley in their flank from a French battalion in square, which they had not noticed in their advance.

There were, in fact, two regiments of infantry to the right of the routed chasseurs, and by the sudden flight of their comrades they found themselves suddenly uncovered and engaged. They were the 6th Léger and 76th Line, each two battalions strong, and counting together about 2,400 bayonets. Of these the unit nearest the cavalry was a battalion of the 76th in square: it was the fire of this body which had struck the leading German squadron in flank, and thrown it into disorder as it was charging the routed French horse. Farther to the east were the other battalion of the 76th and the two of the 6th Léger, on the slopes above the road, which here winds below the small eminence which the French cavalry had occupied and the hill of La Serna, a long and fairly steep height, which gives its name in many histories to the combat that ensued.

What followed on the unexpected discovery of the French infantry was the effect not of Wellington’s direct orders, nor of the leading of the short-sighted Bock, who had hardly realized the situation when his subordinates were already making their decision. It was entirely the exploit of the gallant squadron-leaders of the two regiments of German dragoons. They were coming up in a sort of échelon of squadrons, the first regiment leading, so that when the fire of the French square struck and disordered the leading unit, the responsibility for action fell on the officers commanding the others. Captain von der Decken who led the 3rd squadron determined without hesitation to charge the French square—his men were already getting up speed, and the enemy was but a short distance from him. Shouting to the squadron to throw forward its right wing and ride home, he led it straight at the French. The first fire of the square, delivered at eighty yards, brought down several men and horses, and wounded (mortally as it proved in the end) von der Decken himself. He kept his saddle, however, and only fell when the second fire was given, at twenty yards range. This volley was destructive, but did not break the impetus of the squadron, which charged right home. In most cases where cavalry reached the bayonets of a square during the Peninsular War, it had proved unable to break in, and had recoiled with loss—like Craufurd’s squadrons at the combat of Barquilla[604], and Montbrun’s at Fuentes de Oñoro. Here, however, the rare feat of riding down well-formed infantry was performed—it is said by several eye-witnesses that the breach was originally made by a mortally-wounded horse, which reared right on top of the kneeling front rank of the French, and then rolled over kicking, and bore down six or eight men at once. Several dragoons leapt the bank of struggling and overthrown soldiers, and broke into the rear ranks—thereupon the whole square fell to pieces in disorder. Many of the Frenchmen were hewn down, but the majority dropped their muskets and surrendered unhurt. The lists of prisoners at the Record Office give the names of sixteen officers of the 76th sent to England, of whom only two were wounded. Of the rank and file not more than fifty, it is said, got away[605]. Observers who came on the field later in the day noted with curiosity the long lines of muskets laid down in orderly rows. This was an astonishing achievement for a single squadron of 120 men—they had captured or cut down five times their own numbers of veteran troops of Ney’s old 6th Corps.

Some way to the right of this unlucky battalion were two more, forming the 6th Léger. Seeing the havoc made of his comrades, and noting the remaining squadrons of the Germans sweeping across the slope toward him, the colonel of this regiment ordered his men to retreat uphill and climb the steep slope behind. He hoped to get upon ground where cavalry could not easily follow. The two battalions, still in column, for they had not (like the 76th) formed square, moved hastily upwards: the voices of officers were heard shouting, ’allongez le pas, gagnons la hauteur[606].’ The nearest enemy to them was the second squadron of the 1st Dragoons K.G.L., led by Captain von Reizenstein, who put on the pace when he saw the French scrambling higher, and came up with the rearmost battalion before it was very far from the road. The two rear companies faced about when the dragoons drew near, and delivered a fire that was fairly effective, when it is considered that the men had been going as hard as they could trot, and were halted and put into action at a second’s notice. But it did not suffice to stop the dragoons, who rode in, at the cost of many killed and wounded, and cut up the companies that had stood to meet them: many men were sabred, more taken prisoners. The rear of the column, however, scrambled uphill in a mass, and there joined the other battalion of the 6th Léger, which formed square on the sky-line. They had on their flank a squadron or so of chasseurs, apparently a fragment of the brigade that had given way so easily before Anson’s attack twenty minutes before.

Against this mass charged the leading squadrons of the 2nd Heavy Dragoons K.G.L., which had at last come up to the front, and some of the officers and men of the 1st, who had already done such good work lower down the hill. The French square was not perfect or regular—apparently it was disordered by the fugitives from the broken battalion, who ran in for shelter, and formed up as best they could. The charge of the Germans was delivered with splendid impetus—though the regiment had been galloping for 300 yards uphill—and was completely successful. The French chasseurs rode off without engaging: the ill-formed square crumpled up: many of the men threw down their arms and surrendered, the rest dispersed and ran in coveys along the slopes of the plateau, towards the nearest friendly troops. These were the four battalions of the 39th and 69th Line, the surviving regiments of the division. Foy himself was in one of the squares; his surviving brigadier, Chemineau, in the other.

Intoxicated with the glorious successes that they had gained, a large but disordered mass of the victorious dragoons rode after the fugitives, and charged the nearest of the French squares—one of the 69th Line. The enemy held firm, their fire was given with effect, and killed the officer who led this last effort (Captain von Uslar) and many of his men. The rest swerved back, and rode away under a pelting fire from the battalion that they had attacked and from the other three, which lay close on its flank.

So ended the charge of Garcia Hernandez, the most dashing and successful attack made by any of Wellington’s cavalry during the whole war, as Foy—the best of witnesses—formally states in his history[607]. Though not more destructive in its results than Le Marchant’s onslaught on Maucune at Salamanca, it was a far more difficult affair. For Le Marchant had charged troops not in square, and already shaken by conflict with Leith’s division; while the Germans attacked without any infantry support, and fell upon intact battalions, of which two at least had formed square. Moreover, the French were supported by artillery and cavalry, though the former cleared off promptly, and the latter allowed themselves to be routed very easily by Anson’s squadrons. Altogether it was a glorious first experience of war for the Heavy Dragoons—neither of the regiments had ever charged before, and they had seen but a little skirmishing during the six months since their arrival at Lisbon. They were duly granted the battle-honour, ‘Garcia Hernandez,’ which they continued to bear on their guidons as long as Hanover was an independent state. Two Hanoverian cavalry regiments of to-day in the Prussian army continue to show it, as theoretical heirs of the old Heavy Dragoons. The most astonishing feature of the exploit was that it was the sole work of the squadron-leaders—Wellington had only given the general order to attack—Bock had been with the fraction of the 1st Dragoons which charged along with Anson, and was not directing the marvellous uphill ride. It was a regimental triumph, not an exhibition of cavalry tactics by the Commander-in-Chief or the brigadier[608].

The losses of the victors were very heavy—the 1st Regiment had 2 officers and 28 men killed, 2 other officers wounded (one—von der Decken—mortally), and 37 men. The 2nd Regiment lost 1 officer (von Uslar) killed, with 21 men, and 1 officer and 29 men wounded. In this total the striking figure is the high proportion of killed to wounded—52 to 69—which bears witness to the murderous power of the old musket-ball when delivered point-blank, into the bodies of men who were pressing right up to the muzzles of the infantry in square. There were six men missing to be added to the total of losses—127 in all—whether these were individuals who were taken prisoners in the last attempt to break the square of the 69th, or whether they were mortally wounded men, whose horses carried them far from the scene of action and whose bodies were not found, it is impossible to say. The loss of 127 officers and men out of about 770 present was, however, by no means disproportionately heavy, when the results of the charge are considered.

Of the two French regiments engaged, a whole battalion of the 76th was captured or destroyed—of the 27 officers with it one was killed, 5 wounded, 16 taken prisoners: taking the same proportion of its rank and file, very few out of 650 can have escaped. The 6th Léger was less completely annihilated, but it had its colonel (Molard) and 6 other officers taken prisoners[609], and 8 more wounded, with about 500 rank and file taken or hurt. Allowing for some small losses to the chasseurs, the total casualties of the French must have been about 1,100.

When the last charge of the Heavy Dragoons was over, Foy led his surviving battalions off, followed at a distance by Anson’s brigade, when it had re-formed. The Germans were too fatigued to do more: the leading British infantry, the Light Division, was only just coming in sight far to the rear. The pursuit, therefore, by the four British squadrons had no further results—if they had chanced to have a horse battery with them it might have been much more effective. Six miles from Garcia Hernandez, Foy was relieved to find, waiting for him by the roadside, the long-expected cavalry brigade from the Army of the North—Chauvel’s 1st Hussars and 31st Chasseurs: these fresh squadrons took up the rearguard duty for the rest of the day, and covered the march of the infantry to Peñaranda.

From this day onward Wellington’s pursuit cannot be said to have been urged with any great vigour. On the morning of the 24th the vanguard entered Peñaranda, to find that the French had started off before dawn. G. Anson’s brigade followed, accompanied this time by Bull’s and Ross’s horse artillery, which had come up from the rear. The tail of the enemy’s column was found at Aldea Seca, a few miles beyond Peñaranda: he started off without firing a shot, and was out of sight before more than two guns had been brought to shell him. It seems that opportunities were lost this day—an intelligent observer remarks that ‘if only the whole brigade and twelve guns had come up, we might have taken 500 of them—great part of the infantry were without arms[610].’

That night the British head-quarters and vanguard were at Flores de Avila, but the enemy were quite out of sight. ‘How they get on their troops at such a rate I cannot conceive,’ wrote Wellington, ‘but they left this about two in the morning, and they will arrive in Valladolid to-morrow[611].’ He gave up all attempt at close or rapid pursuit on the 25th, reporting to Lord Bathurst, ‘I find the troops so much fatigued by the battle and their previous and subsequent marches, and the enemy have got so far before our infantry, that I halted this day, and have sent on only the light cavalry and guerrillas.’ After this there was no prospect of doing any further harm to Clausel, or of scattering his demoralized army before it had time to recover its cohesion. ‘This does not look like the quick advance following up a great victory,’ wrote a critical dragoon[612], ‘and I think they will be let off too easily. The peasants report them as in a dreadful state: all their cavalry, except a few for their rearguard, is employed in carrying their sick.’ It may be taken for certain that a general of the Napoleonic school would have urged on his cavalry at all costs—there was plenty of it, and none save Le Marchant’s and Bock’s brigades had suffered any serious loss. Nor can it be doubted that such a hunt would have been richly rewarded by captures. Clausel wrote on the 25th that he could only rally 22,000 men[613]; and as some 48,000 had fought at Salamanca, and the actual losses seem to have been about 14,000, it is clear that he must be allowing for over 12,000 stragglers and unarmed fugitives—whom an active pursuit might have swept up.

Wellington’s defence for the slowness of his movement would undoubtedly have been that a headlong chase might have cost him over-much—he would have lost too many men, and—what was even more important—too many horses by forcing the pace. Clausel’s army had been put out of action for some weeks by the battle of Salamanca—to smash it up still further would give him no such profit as would justify the expenditure of several thousands of his precious British troops. He was looking forward to the possibility of having to fight Soult and Suchet—not to speak of King Joseph—and wished to be as strong as possible for the present. It is probable that he made a mistake in holding back—Clausel, being left practically unmolested, was able to rally his army somewhat sooner than his adversary calculated. By August it was again able to give trouble: in October its strength was sufficient to wreck the Burgos campaign. If it had been well hunted in the last days of July, it would seem that no such reorganization would have been possible—only negligible fragments of it should have reached Valladolid or Burgos. Yet it must always be remembered that economy of men was the cardinal necessity for Wellington—his total British force was so small, the difficulty of getting up drafts and reinforcements was so enormous, the total number of the enemy’s armies in the Peninsula was so overpowering, that he could not afford to thin down his regiments by the exhausting forced marches that were necessary in an active pursuit. It would have been little profit to him if he had exterminated the Army of Portugal, only to find himself left victorious, indeed, but with a force so weak and so tired out that further exertion was impossible. As it was, many of his battalions in August showed only 300 bayonets in line[614], and only recovered their strength, by the reappearance of Badajoz and Salamanca convalescents, and the arrival of drafts, during the following winter.

It was at Flores de Avila on July 25th that Wellington received the news that a new factor had come into the game. King Joseph had left Madrid four days earlier with the Army of the Centre, and was marching northward by the Guadarrama Pass and Villa Castin, with the obvious intention of joining Marmont. This move would have been all-important if it had taken place ten days earlier: but when the Army of Portugal was in absolute rout, and flying by forced marches towards the Douro, the appearance of the King was too late to be dangerous. He could not strengthen the beaten army sufficiently to enable it to fight—and he would expose himself to some peril if he continued his forward march, and came any nearer to the British line of advance.

Joseph’s long hesitation and tardy start require a word of explanation. It will be remembered[615] that his last communication which had got through to Marmont was a dispatch dated June 30, in which he had expressed his surprise that the Army of Portugal was refusing battle, and stated that he could offer no immediate help. If Hill, from Estremadura, should march to join Wellington, he had directed that D’Erlon should move up in a similar fashion northward, and he himself would come also, with all or part of the Army of the Centre. But supposing that Hill should remain in the far south, beyond the Guadiana, Joseph gave no promise of coming to Marmont’s aid. Indeed he never mentioned this contingency at all, except to say that if Wellington had not been joined by his lieutenant, ‘you should choose a good position and give battle with all your troops united.’

Since writing this epistle Joseph had experienced many searchings of heart. On the very day on which it was sent off he had received a dispatch from Soult, which filled him with dismay: the Duke of Dalmatia said that he had forbidden D’Erlon to cross to the north bank of the Tagus, even if it were certain that Hill and his corps had gone to join Wellington. Writing in high wrath, the King, on July 2nd, threatened to remove Soult from his command in Andalusia. ‘If you have formally forbidden D’Erlon to pass the Tagus, in case the English force in Estremadura goes off to join the enemy’s main body, you have given him orders contradictory to those which I sent both to him and to you. You set your authority above mine, you refuse to recognize me as Commander-in-Chief of the Armies of Spain. Consequently, placed as I may be between the two alternatives—of either depriving myself of the service of your talent and military experience, or of allowing the powers confided to me by the Emperor to be broken in my hand almost as soon as given—I can have no hesitation.... Painful as it is to me, therefore, I accept the offer which you formerly made me, to resign your command if I do not revoke my original order; for not only do I refuse to revoke it, but I hereby repeat it again both to you and to Comte d’Erlon. If you prefer to take this extreme step of disobedience, resign your command to D’Erlon, as your senior general of division, and he will take it up till the Emperor shall nominate your successor[616].’

This angry dispatch was followed by another, written on July 6th, which varied the original order to Soult in an important feature. For instead of speaking of a northern movement of D’Erlon’s troops as consequent on a similar transference of Hill’s corps to Castile, it makes no mention of Hill, but prescribes a definite manœuvre without any reference to the action of that British general. ‘Send at once to Toledo a force of 10,000 men: 8,000 infantry, 2,000 horse, with the men and horses for 12 guns. By leaving the guns behind, the march of the corps will be made more rapid, and the roads are good.... I authorize you to evacuate any part of the occupied territory that you may choose, in order to hasten the departure of these 10,000 men, whose arrival I await with great impatience[617].’

Clearly it would take many days for these orders to get to Soult, who was at this time before Cadiz. As a matter of fact they only reached his hands on July 16th, and long before that date Joseph was becoming very anxious at the state of affairs on the Douro. He got news that Caffarelli, scared by Home Popham’s diversion, had sent no succours to Marmont, and he received letters from Suchet, which showed him that he could not count on any reinforcement from Valencia[618]. It was certain that, even if Soult yielded to the peremptory orders sent on July 2 and July 6, the detachment under D’Erlon could not reach Toledo till somewhere about the 1st August. That it would start at all seemed doubtful, in face of a letter of July 3 from D’Erlon, stating that he was being ‘contained’ by no less than 30,000 men under Hill—a scandalous perversion of fact, for Hill had not over two-thirds of that force[619].

The days were running on, Marmont was still unsuccoured: it seemed likely that neither from the North, from Valencia, nor from Andalusia, would any help come to hand. The King grew more and more anxious—all the more so because he had ceased to receive reports from Marmont, since the line of communication with him had been cut by the guerrilleros. Finally, on July 9th[620], he made up his mind that, since no other help could be got for the Army of Portugal, he would march himself with the Army of the Centre, even though to concentrate it he must evacuate all New Castile and La Mancha, and even imperil the safety of Madrid. On that day he issued orders to Treillard to evacuate the valley of the Tagus—all the Talavera and Almaraz region—and to the Rheinbund Germans to abandon La Mancha. All the small posts in the direction of the eastern mountains were also drawn in, even those watching the passes of the Somosierra and the Guadarrama. Only in Toledo, Guadalajara, and Segovia, were small garrisons left behind. By the morning of the 19th July[621] the most distant detachments had all come in, and the Army of the Centre was concentrated at Madrid, about 14,000 strong, and able to spare 10,000 for the field when the capital had been garrisoned. But the King resolved to wait two days longer before marching, because he had just received news of the approach of an unexpected but most welcome reinforcement. Early in the month he had heard that Palombini’s Italian division of the Army of Aragon was hunting the Empecinado and Mina in the direction of Calatayud and Tudela. He had sent out a Spanish emissary with a letter to Palombini, bidding him to draw in towards Madrid, if he had not already marched to join Marmont, who had hoped to get his assistance. It does not seem that the King had built much upon the results of this letter: orders sent to Suchet’s troops had generally been disregarded. But it chanced to reach the Italian general at Alfaro on the Ebro on July 12th, and Palombini, having no opportunity of referring the responsibility to his immediate commander, who was 200 miles away at Valencia, resolved to obey. He marched for Soria and Siguenza, brushing off guerrillero bands that strove to molest him, and sent to Joseph the news that he might be expected at Madrid on the 21st. These tidings came to hand on the 18th, and filled the King with such high satisfaction that he resolved to wait for the Italian division. It arrived on the appointed day, having made a most creditable forced march of 150 miles by mountain roads, through a burnt-up and desolate country. Without leaving it even one night’s rest at Madrid, the King started it off in company with his own troops, which had been awaiting all day the signal for departure[622].

Joseph’s expeditionary force, thus increased to 14,000 men, consisted of his Guards, horse and foot, one French brigade (28th and 75th Ligne), D’Armagnac’s Germans (five battalions and one cavalry regiment), Treillard’s strong division of dragoons, and part of Hugo’s division of Spanish Juramentados, together with Palombini’s detachment, which amounted to six battalions and a regiment of dragoons. The garrisons of Madrid, Toledo, Segovia, and Guadalajara were made up partly of Juramentados, and partly of the large body of drafts for the Army of Andalusia, which had accumulated at Madrid since the posts in the Sierra Morena had been given up in April. The King had been in no hurry to send them on to Soult, and now found them very useful. The command of the garrison was left to General Lafon Blaniac, who was acting as governor of Madrid and Captain-General of New Castile. A few days after Joseph’s departure a welcome addition turned up, in the shape of Suchet’s garrison of Cuenca, under General Maupoint, consisting of two battalions of the 16th regiment and a squadron of chasseurs. On getting the King’s order to evacuate Cuenca, this officer (like Palombini) had obeyed it, and, instead of retiring on Valencia, had come on to Madrid, with his 1,000 men and three millions of reals, representing the provincial treasury[623].

Having once collected his army, the King marched with great speed, passed the defiles of the Guadarrama on the 22nd, and reached Espinar, the great junction of roads in the province of Avila, next day. The cavalry that night were at Villa Castin, eight miles farther to the front, on the road to Arevalo and Valladolid. Here the news came to hand, not from any authorized source but from the rumours of the country-side, that Marmont had crossed the Douro on the 17th, and was closely engaged with Wellington somewhere in the direction of Salamanca. On receiving this information Joseph and Jourdan resolved not to continue their march towards Valladolid, but to swerve westward, with the intention of joining the Duke of Ragusa on the Tormes. Turning off from the main road, the cavalry reached Villanueva de Gomez on the night of the 24th; the King and the infantry got to Blasco Sancho. Orders were issued for the whole army to march on Peñaranda next morning. But during the hours of darkness rumours of the battle of Salamanca and its results came to hand, and on the following morning they were confirmed by the arrival of two Spanish emissaries, one bearing a letter from the wounded Marmont, the other a second from Clausel. The Marshal’s letter was insincere and inconclusive—after giving a long account of the battle, which threw all the blame on Maucune, he said that he had lost 5,000 men, the enemy infinitely more (!), and that the army was falling back to take a position behind the Eresma river[624], or perhaps behind the Douro. Clausel’s epistle was a far more honest document; it said that he was in a state of incapacity to resist Wellington, that he could not put even 20,000 men in line for some days, that he must retreat as fast as possible on Valladolid, to pick up his dépôts and magazines, which he must send off without delay, and that he would then fall back on the Army of the North. He distinctly told the King that, even if the Army of the Centre joined him, they would be unable to resist Wellington for a moment. He recommended Joseph to call up succours from Soult and Suchet: if Wellington and the English main body marched on Madrid the Army of Portugal would remain on the Douro, but only in that case. If pursued by Wellington he must retire towards Burgos. He evidently regarded any junction between his troops and the King’s as impracticable and useless[625].

Confronted by this new and unpromising situation, Joseph and Jourdan had to choose between two policies—they might retire towards Madrid and cover the capital, in the hope that Soult might conceivably have carried out the orders given him on July 6th, and have sent a detachment toward Toledo and Madrid. Or they might, despite of Clausel’s advice and warning, move northward towards the Douro and try to get into communication with the Army of Portugal. If the direct road by Arevalo to Valladolid was too dangerous, there remained another and more circuitous route by Cuellar, which Wellington was too far off to reach.

The King and Jourdan chose the first alternative without a moment’s hesitation[626]: if they joined the Army of Portugal, they had Clausel’s assurance that they could effect nothing. They would be driven back on Burgos; Madrid would be exposed to a raid by any small detachment that Wellington might send against it, and touch with Soult and Suchet would be lost. The King, therefore, marched back by the way that he had come, and had reached on the 26th the Venta de San Rafael, at the foot of the Guadarrama pass. He had got so rapidly out of Wellington’s way that their armies did not touch—save indeed that a patrol of Arentschildt’s brigade surprised and captured near Arevalo 2 officers and 25 men of the King’s light cavalry[627]—Juramentado chasseurs.

When informed that the Army of the Centre had fallen back in haste toward Madrid, Wellington resolved that his duty was to continue pushing Clausel northward, and away from the King. The latter might be disregarded; his strength was known, and it was almost certain that he would not be reinforced. For Hill had just sent in a report, which had come through in four days, that Drouet was showing no signs of moving toward Toledo; and he enclosed an intercepted dispatch of Soult’s, which proved that the latter had no intention whatever of carrying out the King’s oft-repeated orders[628]. Accordingly the British head-quarters were moved on to Arevalo on the 27th of July, and to Olmedo on the 28th. Anson’s and Arentschildt’s light cavalry went on in front: they reported that the enemy was still in a complete state of disorganization. He was burning the villages as he went, and leaving many stragglers dead in the cornfields beside the road, for the wounded were sinking by the way, and any marauders who went far from the main column were being killed by the peasantry and the guerrilleros[629].

Clausel crossed the Douro by the two bridges of Tudela and Puente de Douro on the 27th-28th, leaving only some light troops to the south of the river, and entered Valladolid, where he set to work at once to evacuate all the more valuable stores, and so many of the sick and wounded as could find transport, along the high-road to Palencia and Burgos. The Anglo-Portuguese infantry was already approaching Medina del Campo and Olmedo, while Santocildes, with the section of the Army of Galicia which was not employed on the siege of Astorga, was ordered to march past Toro and Tordesillas to threaten Valladolid from the north bank of the Douro, and Silveira was directed to resume the blockade of Zamora with his militia-division.

On the 29th the Light and 1st Divisions, Wellington’s infantry vanguard, drove in the screen of light troops which Clausel had left in front of the Douro: the French retired and blew up the bridges. But this was of little avail, for the British cavalry forded the river at Boecillo and continued their advance. Thereupon the enemy evacuated the city of Valladolid, and withdrew along the direct road to Burgos, save one division (Foy’s), which retreated excentrically, up the north bank of the river toward Aranda. In Valladolid were found 17 guns, 800 sick and wounded, whose condition had rendered it impossible for them to travel, and a large magazine filled with artillery material, besides other stores. The people received Wellington with every mark of enthusiasm, though they had the reputation of including a greater proportion of Afrancesados than any other city of northern Spain[630]. They treated him to illuminations, a ball, and copious harangues of congratulation. Meanwhile Anson’s brigade swept the country to the east and north, and reported no enemy visible; while the guerrillero Marquinez entered Palencia, and captured 300 stragglers from Clausel’s rearguard. The French had gone back beyond the Arlanza river, and were lying at Lerma, Torquemada, and Santa Maria del Campo, ready to retreat to Burgos itself if any further pressure was applied. It was not forthcoming—much to Clausel’s surprise—and he halted and began to reorganize his shattered army. What survived of his train and stores, his sick, and the cadres of several skeleton battalions were sent back to Burgos. The rest stood still, awaiting further developments.

Wellington, meanwhile, had brought none of his infantry north of the Douro, though all were now near at hand, and the Light Division had repaired the bridge of Tudela. He had resolved to turn his attention to King Joseph and Madrid. Only Santocildes and his two Galician divisions were ordered up to Valladolid (where they arrived on August 6th) to support Anson’s cavalry, who took up cantonments at various villages in front and to the flank of the city.

The movements of the King and his army on July 27th-31st had been somewhat puzzling to the British general. On arriving at the foot of the Guadarrama pass, they had halted, and then (instead of pursuing the straight road to Madrid) had swerved off to Segovia, which lies on the northern slope of the mountains, as if they had abandoned their original intention of leaving the Army of Portugal to its own devices. This flank march was the result of the receipt of letters borne by Marmont’s aide-de-camp, Fabvier, which said that Clausel was no longer being pursued with energy, and that it was possible that he might stop on the Adaja and cover Valladolid[631]. It was a momentary inspiration, with no reality behind it, for Clausel was in full retreat again before the King reached Segovia. But misled by its fallacious cheerfulness, Joseph had made a move which rendered it possible for him to join the Army of Portugal, if it had really halted. He was soon undeceived, and after remaining three days at Segovia in some peril, for Wellington had now turned against him, he evacuated that high-lying city on August 1st, and made his final retreat on Madrid by the Guadarrama pass.

Just after he had left Segovia[632] King Joseph received a dispatch from Soult, dated July 16. It was a reply to the peremptory orders sent him on July 6th, which had directed him to evacuate part of Andalusia and to send a large detachment to Toledo. This was a strange document, which amounted to an absolute refusal to obey instructions. After stating (quite falsely) that Hill was advancing with 30,000 men in Estremadura, and that in consequence he was himself about to repair thither, he announced that the evacuation of Andalusia would be ruinous to the French cause in Spain. ‘We could not find means to subsist either on the Tagus or in Estremadura, and from one position to another we should retreat as far as the Ebro. There is a way to avoid this; by taking the initiative we can save 6,000 sick and maimed men whom I should probably have to abandon, as well as 200,000 Spaniards (who have declared for your Majesty, and will be lost without hope), also 2,000 guns, and the only artillery arsenal now existing in Spain. A single order by your Majesty can effect this, and shorten the Spanish war by six campaigns. Let your Majesty come to Andalusia in person, with every man that can be collected: if the number is large we can increase the expeditionary force in Estremadura to 25,000 or 30,000 men, and transfer the seat of war to the left bank of the Tagus. The Army of Portugal, being relieved of pressure, will be able to come into line again. Whatever occurs, your Majesty will find yourself at the head of a splendid army, ready to deliver battle. If the worst came, and we were unlucky, there is always the resource of retiring on the Army of Aragon [in Valencia] and so keeping the field.... I have the honour to repeat to your Majesty that I cannot send any detachments beyond the Sierra Morena or the Guadiana, save by evacuating all Andalusia and marching with my whole army. I must have a positive order from your Majesty to that effect[633].’

This was an astonishing letter for a Commander-in-Chief to receive from a subordinate. Instead of obeying a very definite order to move a certain number of troops to a certain point, Soult replies by sending to the King an alternative plan of campaign. And this plan, it is not too much to say, was an absolutely perverse and insane one. It must be remembered that, when Soult was writing, the battle of Salamanca was still six days in the future, and the Army of Portugal was known to be at close quarters with Wellington and in urgent need of reinforcements. Soult urges his master to abandon Marmont to the enemy, to evacuate Madrid, to give up his communication with France, and to retire into Andalusia, where he would be cut off from all the other imperial armies, for it was not possible even to communicate with Suchet and Valencia, since the Spanish Army of Murcia blocked the way. The cardinal sin of this project was that if the French were to hold Spain at all, it was necessary for them to be strong in the North: Soult proposed to deliver over the North to Wellington, by leaving Marmont in the lurch. As Napoleon had observed, five months earlier, ‘a check to the Army of Portugal would be a calamity which would make itself felt all over Spain. A check to the Army of the South might force it back on Madrid or Valencia, but would be of a very different degree of importance[634].’ He had said much the same thing four years before, when first his armies were invading Spain; for he then expressed the opinion that a disaster to Bessières in Castile would be the one ruinous possibility: defeats in the South or East mattered comparatively little. Soult, blinded by his own interest in the viceroyalty of Andalusia, refused to see this obvious fact. Long after he had received the news of Salamanca, he persisted in maintaining that the true policy was to hold on to Seville, even when the British army was at Madrid, and the wrecks of Marmont’s forces were retiring on Burgos. Of this we shall hear more presently.

King Joseph on receiving Soult’s letter returned answer: ‘You will see by my letter of the 29th July the errors that you have been labouring under as to Lord Wellington’s real designs. Hasten, therefore, to carry out the orders which I give you—viz. to evacuate Andalusia and march with your whole army on Toledo[635].’ Even so the King did not obtain exact obedience to his commands, but received a second series of counter-projects: and in the end Soult marched not on Toledo but on Valencia, and only many days after he had been instructed to commence his movement.

Wellington was, of course, unaware of the exact motives which had induced King Joseph to make his flank march to Segovia, but he considered that it might mean that there was some intention on the part of Clausel to bring the Army of Portugal to join the Army of the Centre by way of the Upper Douro [i. e. via Aranda]. He therefore resolved to make such a conjunction impossible, by driving the King over the mountains and towards Madrid[636].

While Anson’s and Arentschildt’s cavalry continued the pursuit of Clausel on the 29th-30th, and the 1st and Light Divisions were brought up to the neighbourhood of Tudela, opposite Valladolid, the rest of the army was turned against King Joseph. It was necessary to find out, as a preliminary, whether he was really making a stand at Segovia. To ascertain this point D’Urban’s Portuguese horse pushed out from Olmedo on the 29th, and found the King’s cavalry in Santa Maria de Nieva, ten miles in front of Segovia. Deserters from the Spanish Guards here came in to D’Urban, and gave him useful information as to the exact strength of the Army of the Centre. On the 30th Wellington placed at D’Urban’s disposal the German Heavy Dragoons, a battalion of Halkett’s brigade of the 7th Division, and a British battery, telling him to drive in the enemy’s screen. The French gave way reluctantly, and on hearing of their attitude Wellington ordered the whole 7th Division to follow D’Urban’s detachment, and other divisions to make ready to move in succession. But the report that Segovia was being firmly held, as the point de rassemblement[637] for Clausel, turned out to be false, for when the flying column approached that city it learnt that the main body of the enemy had left it in the morning for the Guadarrama pass. A considerable rearguard, under General Espert[638], however, was left to guard Segovia till the King should have got a fair start; and its mediaeval walls made it defensible for a short time against a force without heavy artillery. D’Urban could do nothing with his cavalry, but sent to Wellington a request that the 7th Division might move round to intercept Espert’s retreat towards the Guadarrama by a forced march. His chief replied that he had no great faith in the success of any of these attempts to ‘cut the French off,’ and that it did not appear to him more practicable at Segovia than elsewhere. ‘The result of such attempts would merely be to fatigue the troops in getting into Segovia, and it might as well be done without fatiguing them.’ And so it was, for Espert decamped by night on August 3 unmolested, and D’Urban entered the place next morning, followed some time later by the infantry. He at once explored the mountain road toward the pass, and found that the French had completely disappeared: not even at the ‘Puerto’ of the Guadarrama was a vedette to be seen.

Wellington had now to revise his whole plan of campaign, since it had become clear that the two armies opposed to him had retreated in different directions, and could not possibly combine. While it was still conceivable that Clausel might defend the line of the Douro, he had brought up the main body of his infantry to Olmedo. But after his entry into Valladolid on the 30th, and the precipitate retreat of the Army of Portugal toward Burgos, he had been for two days under the impression that King Joseph might stand at Segovia. Not only had he sent on the German dragoons and the 7th Division to follow D’Urban, but on July 31st he moved his own head-quarters and the 3rd Division to Cuellar, while the 4th, 5th, and 6th Divisions were at El Pino on the Cega river, a few miles behind. He wrote next morning (August 1st) that he was in such a position that Joseph and Clausel could not possibly join, and that if the King lingered any longer at Segovia, ‘I can move upon him, and make him go quicker than he will like[639].’ But he imagined that the Army of the Centre would fall back instantly on Madrid—as indeed it was doing at the very moment that he was writing his dispatch.

On receiving the information that Joseph had vanished, Wellington halted for three whole days [August 2nd, 3rd, 4th] with his head-quarters at Cuellar, and his infantry gathered round him in its neighbourhood. The 1st and Light Divisions, which had marched as far as the Douro, came southward to join the rest. But it was only on the 5th that orders were issued for the march of nearly the whole army on Segovia, by the road to Mozencillo. During these three days of halt Wellington had made up his mind as to his general policy. Clausel, whose army was harmless for the present, was to be ignored: only a small containing force was to be left in front of him, while the main body of the Anglo-Portuguese host marched on Madrid.

The strategical purpose that determined this decision was never set forth in full by Wellington. His contemporary dispatches to Lord Bathurst and to Hill are short, and lack explanatory detail—he states his decision, but says little of his reasons for making it. Nor did he, at the end of the campaign, write any long official narrative of his doings, as he had done in 1810 and 1811. The causes that governed his action have to be deduced from scattered opinions expressed in many different documents. We need hardly take seriously the common French dictum, found in many a book written by his exasperated opponents, that he ‘wished to parade himself as conqueror and liberator in the Spanish capital.’ That was not the sort of motive which any serious student of Wellington’s character would dream of imputing to him. Nor, if we translate it into less offensive terms, would it be true to say that it was the political advantage of expelling the King from Madrid, and so demonstrating to all Europe the weakness of the French hold on the Peninsula, that was the determining cause of the march into New Castile and the abandonment of the campaign on the Douro. We must rather look for definite military reasons. And of these the predominant one was that he conceived that the most probable result of the battle of Salamanca would be to force the King to call up Soult and Suchet to Madrid, in order to check the Anglo-Portuguese army, even at the cost of abandoning great tracts of conquered land in Andalusia and Valencia. Such indeed, as we have already seen, was Joseph’s purpose. The order to Soult to evacuate his viceroyalty and to march on Toledo with his whole army had been issued a day or two before Wellington had made up his mind to turn southward. Suchet had been directed at the same time to send all that he could spare toward Madrid. Though the pursuit of Clausel to the Ebro offered many advantages, it would be a ruinous move if the enemy should concentrate 70,000 men at Madrid, and then march on Valladolid, to take the allied army in the rear and cut it off from Portugal.

It was quite uncertain whether Soult or Suchet would make this move. But that it was the correct one is certain. Wellington was aware that Soult had been summoned to send troops northward. Hitherto he had found excuses for refusing to obey, as his last intercepted dispatch of July 8th sufficiently showed. But the results of Salamanca might probably render further disobedience impossible: and the moment that Soult should hear of that tremendous event, it was reasonable to suppose that he would abandon his viceroyalty, and march to join the King with every available man. If he found Joseph and his army still in possession of Madrid, they would have a central base and magazines from which to operate, and a very favourable strategic position. It was true that Wellington could call up Hill’s 18,000 men, but this was the only succour on which he could count: neither Ballasteros nor the numerous garrison of Cadiz would ever appear in New Castile, if old experience was to be trusted. If some Spaniards did arrive, they would be very uncertain aid. Granted, therefore, that Soult marched on Toledo and Madrid to join the King, Wellington must take almost every man of the Salamanca army to face them, even allowing for the certain junction of Hill. He could only afford to leave a small ‘containing force’ to look after Clausel.

But there was another possibility which made the situation still more doubtful. Would Suchet also push up to join King Joseph with the Army of Valencia, or the greater part of it? If he should do so, the odds would be too great, and a defensive campaign to cover Portugal, and so much as was possible of the newly regained Spanish provinces, would be the only resource. But Suchet’s action depended upon a factor over which Wellington had some influence, though not a complete and dominating control. When he had started on the Salamanca campaign he had been relying on Lord William Bentinck’s Sicilian expedition to keep the French in Valencia engaged: an attack on Catalonia would draw Suchet northward with all his reserves, and nothing would be left which O’Donnell and the Spanish army of Murcia could not ‘contain.’ It will be remembered that a few days before the battle of Salamanca[640] Wellington had received the disheartening news that Bentinck had countermanded his expedition, and was turning himself to some chimerical scheme for invading Italy. This had left Suchet’s attention free for the moment, and he might conceivably have sent troops to join the Army of the Centre. Fortunately he had not done so—only Palombini’s division and the small garrison of Cuenca had been swept up by King Joseph, without the Marshal’s consent and much to his disgust.

Now, however, the whole prospect in eastern Spain had been transformed by the cheering news, received on July 30th near Valladolid[641], that Bentinck had once more changed his mind, and that a considerable expeditionary force under General Maitland had been sent to Majorca, to pick up the Spaniards of Whittingham and Roche, and to execute, after all, the projected diversion. Maitland’s own dispatch arrived four days later; it had travelled with extraordinary celerity from Palma to Cuellar in fifteen days, and announced his arrival on the Spanish coast and his intention to operate at once. This being so, Suchet would be ‘out of the game’ if all went well, and only the King and Soult need be taken into consideration for the next month. But it was all-important that the diversion on the East Coast should be executed with firmness and decision.

The best summary of Wellington’s views at this moment is to be found in his letter to Lord William Bentinck[642], explaining the importance of Maitland’s action in August.

‘I have lately, on the 22nd, beaten Marshal Marmont in a general action near Salamanca, and I have pursued him beyond the Douro and entered Valladolid. The King is at Segovia with 12,000 or 15,000 men, and, having driven Marmont from the lower Douro, my next object is to prevent him and Marmont (if possible) from joining: this I am about to attempt. Either the French [i. e. King Joseph] must lose all communication with their troops in the north of Spain, or they must oblige me to withdraw towards the frontiers of Portugal. This they cannot effect without bringing against me either Suchet’s army, or Soult’s army, or both. I cannot but think, therefore, that it is very important that the attention of Suchet should be diverted from his possible operations against me by the Sicilian army, which will go to such important objects as Tarragona and Valencia.... If Suchet’s attention cannot be diverted from me, and (notwithstanding Marmont’s defeat) the French become too strong for me, I shall at least have the satisfaction of reflecting, while I am retiring, that General Maitland’s progress will be unopposed, and we shall take Tarragona and Valencia.’

A few days later Wellington was pleased to find that Suchet had been duly scared. An intercepted dispatch from him to King Joseph showed that he was thinking of nothing but the appearance of an English fleet off the Valencian coast, and that it was most unlikely that he would send any serious succours to the King[643]. There remained therefore only Soult to be considered. The natural thing for him to do would be to evacuate Andalusia: as Wellington wrote a fortnight later, ‘any other but a modern French army would now leave that province[644].’ Hill was writing at the same time, ‘Lord Wellington continues advancing, and if he is able to keep his forward position, Soult will be ordered to reinforce the King. Indeed I think that he must quit this part of the country entirely, if matters do not go better with them’ [the French][645].

What neither Wellington nor Hill could foresee, in early August, was that the Marshal would still hang on to Andalusia, and renew, in a more pressing form, his proposal of July 16th that Joseph and the Army of the Centre should take refuge with him beyond the Sierra Morena. But whether King Joseph received, or did not receive, succours from the South or East, it was clearly good military policy to turn him out of Madrid, while the Army of Portugal was still completely negligible as a factor in the game. The loss of Madrid would be ruinous to him if he was left without reinforcements: if he received them, the enemy would find the problem of subsistence much more difficult if he had not Madrid to rely upon as his central base and magazine. Toledo would not serve him half so well. And the political effects of the recovery of the Spanish capital, even if only for a time, must be well worth gaining. It would shake the confidence of the Afrancesado party all over the Peninsula, and it would be noted all round Europe.

Accordingly Wellington resolved to leave only a small containing detachment on the Douro, to look after Clausel, whose recuperative power he somewhat underrated, and to march on Madrid with a force that would enable him, if joined by Hill, to fight Soult and King Joseph in combination. The containing body was put in charge of Clinton, who was almost the only divisional general of the old stock who still remained with the army. Graham and Picton were invalided, Leith and Lowry Cole had been wounded at Salamanca, along with Beresford and Stapleton Cotton. Nearly all the divisions were under interim commanders. Another reason for choosing Clinton for the detached duty was that his division, the 6th, had suffered more than any other unit at the recent battle. It was very low in numbers, only 3,700 men, including its Portuguese brigade, and needed to pick up convalescents and drafts before it could be considered effective for field service. Along with the 6th Division there were left the five battalions[646] that had recently joined the army from England or the Mediterranean stations: they were all Walcheren regiments, and still riddled with sickness; and all had suffered from the forced marches which had brought them to the front just before. Wellington was discontented with their condition. ‘The truth is, neither officers nor soldiers are accustomed to march. The men are very irregular, and owing to their irregularities not able to bear the labour of marching in the heat of the sun[647].’ They were left to strengthen Clinton, and to acclimatize themselves to the Spanish summer: if taken on to Madrid they would have sown the roadside with broken-down stragglers.

The five newly-arrived battalions brought Clinton’s strength up to 7,000 infantry. The whole of this force was cantoned in and about Cuellar, while the cavalry allotted to it, Anson’s brigade, took a more advanced position, along and beyond the Douro, covering not only its own infantry but the two Spanish divisions of Santocildes, who had occupied Valladolid on August 6th. The remainder of the Army of Galicia was still occupied in the interminable siege of Astorga, which to Wellington’s disgust still lingered on. The heavy guns had at last come up from Corunna, but the bombardment seemed to have little effect. Silveira had resumed the blockade of Zamora, but having no siege artillery could only wait till starvation should compel its garrison of 700 men to submit. Toro and Tordesillas were the only other places where Marmont had left a detachment; the latter surrendered to Santocildes on his march to Valladolid—about 300 French were taken there. The former was still holding out, observed by a small Spanish force. The task of keeping a close look-out upon Clausel was handed over to the guerrilleros—the Castilian chiefs Saornil, Marquinez, and Principe. An English officer, who spent some days with the two last at this juncture, describes them as ‘bandits, but very troublesome ones for the French.’ Deducting the Spaniards left before Astorga, and the Portuguese left before Zamora, there were some 18,000 men in all told off to ‘contain’ Clausel. The orders left behind[648] were that they should remain in their cantonments unless the enemy should move—which Wellington did not think a likely contingency, ‘as they have nothing but their cavalry in a state fit for service.’ But if, rallying sooner than he expected, the French should march by Palencia to try to rescue the garrisons of Astorga and Zamora, Santocildes was to retire, and to endeavour to defend the line of the Esla, while Silveira was to raise the blockade of Zamora and fall back behind that same river. If, instead of making a raid westward to save the garrisons, Clausel should move against Valladolid and the line of the Douro, Anson’s cavalry was to retire and join Clinton at Cuellar; and if the enemy came on against them in full force, both were then to fall back on Segovia. Santocildes was then directed to endeavour to move round Clausel’s rear, and to cut his communication with Burgos. Contrary to Wellington’s expectation[649], as we shall presently see, the French general made both the moves suggested—he sent a column to relieve Astorga and Zamora, and marched with his main body on Valladolid. The consequences of his advance will be related in their due place.