CHAPTER III.
1812. July. When Wellington found by the intercepted letters, that the king’s orders for Drouet to cross the Tagus, were reiterated, and imperative, he directed Hill to detach troops, in the same proportion. And as this reinforcement, coming by the way of Alcantara, could reach the Duero as soon as Drouet could reach Madrid, he hoped still to maintain the Tormes, if not the Duero, notwithstanding the king’s power; for some money, long expected from England, had at last arrived in Oporto, and he thought the Gallicians, maugre their inertness, must soon be felt by the enemy. Moreover the harvest on the ground, however abundant, could not long feed the French multitudes, if Drouet and the king should together join Marmont. Nevertheless, fearing the action of Joseph’s cavalry, he ordered D’Urban’s horsemen to join the army on the Duero. But to understand the remarkable movements which were now about to commence, the reader must bear in mind, that the French army, from its peculiar organization, could, while the ground harvest lasted, operate without any regard to lines of communication; it had supports on all sides and procured its food every where, for the troops were taught to reap the standing corn, and grind it themselves if their cavalry could not seize flour in the villages. This organization approaching the ancient Roman military perfection, gave them great advantages; in the field it baffled the irregular, and threw the regular force of the allies, entirely upon the defensive; because when the flanks were turned, a retreat only could save the communications, and the French offered no point, for retaliation in kind. Wherefore, with a force composed of four different nations, Wellington was to execute the most difficult evolutions, in an open country, his chances of success being to arise only from the casual errors of his adversary, who was an able general, who knew the country perfectly, and was at the head of an army, brave, excellently disciplined, and of one nation. The game would have been quite unequal if the English general had not been so strong in cavalry.
FRENCH PASSAGE OF THE DUERO.
In the course of the 15th and 16th Marmont, who had previously made several deceptive movements, concentrated his beautiful and gallant army between Toro and the Hornija river; and intercepted letters, the reports of deserters, and the talk of the peasants had for several days assigned the former place as his point of passage. On the morning of the 16th the English exploring officers, passing the Duero near Tordesillas, found only the garrison there, and in the evening the reports stated, that two French divisions had already passed the repaired bridge of Toro. Wellington united his centre and left at Canizal on the Guarena during the night, intending to attack those who had passed at Toro; but as he had still some doubts of the enemy’s real object, he caused sir Stapleton Cotton to halt on the Trabancos with the right wing, composed of the fourth and light divisions and Anson’s cavalry. Meanwhile Marmont, recalling his troops from the left bank of the Duero, returned to Tordesillas and Pollos, passed that river at those points and occupied Nava del Rey, where his whole army was concentrated in the evening of the 17th, some of his divisions having marched above forty miles, and some above fifty miles, without a halt. The English cavalry posts being thus driven over the Trabancos, advice of the enemy’s movement was sent to lord Wellington, but he was then near Toro, it was midnight ere it reached him, and the troops, under Cotton, remained near Castrejon behind the Trabancos during the nightSee [plan No. 3.] of the 17th without orders, exposed, in a bad position, to the attack of the whole French army. Wellington hastened to their aid in person, and he ordered Bock’s, Le Marchant’s, and Alten’s brigades of cavalry, to follow him to Alaejos, and the fifth division to take post at Torrecilla de la Orden six miles in rear of Castrejon.
At day-break Cotton’s outposts were again driven in by the enemy, and the bulk of his cavalry with a troop of horse artillery immediately formed in front of the two infantry divisions, which were drawn up, the fourth division on the left, the light division on the right, but at a considerable distance from each other and separated by a wide ravine. The country was open and hilly, like the downs of England, with here and there water-gulleys, dry hollows, and bold naked heads of land, and behind the most prominent of these last, on the other side of the Trabancos, lay the whole French army. Cotton however, seeing only horsemen, pushed his cavalry again towards the river, advancing cautiously by his right along some high table-land, and his troops were soon lost to the view of the infantry, for the morning fog was thick on the stream, and at first nothing could be descried beyond. But very soon the deep tones of artillery shook the ground, the sharp ring of musketry was heard in the mist, and the forty-third regiment was hastily brought through Castrejon to support the advancing cavalry; for besides the ravine which separated the fourth from the light division, there was another ravine with a marshy bottom, between the cavalry and infantry, and the village of Castrejon was the only good point of passage.
The cannonade now became heavy, and the spectacle surprisingly beautiful, for the lighter smoke and mist, curling up in fantastic pillars, formed a huge and glittering dome tinged of many colours by the rising sun; and through the grosser vapour below, the restless horsemen were seen or lost as the fume thickened from the rapid play of the artillery, while the bluff head of land, beyond the Trabancos, covered with French troops, appeared, by an optical deception close at hand, dilated to the size of a mountain, and crowned with gigantic soldiers, who were continually breaking off and sliding down into the fight. Suddenly a dismounted cavalry officer stalked from the midst of the smoke towards the line of infantry; his gait was peculiarly rigid, and he appeared to hold a bloody handkerchief to his heart, but that which seemed a cloth, was a broad and dreadful wound; a bullet had entirely effaced the flesh from his left shoulder and from his breast, and had carried away part of his ribs, his heart was bared, and its movement plainly discerned. It was a piteous and yet a noble sight, for his countenance though ghastly was firm, his step scarcely indicated weakness, and his voice never faltered. This unyielding man’s name was Williams; he died a short distance from the field of battle, and it was said, in the arms of his son, a youth of fourteen, who had followed his father to the Peninsula in hopes of obtaining a commission, for they were not in affluent circumstances.
General Cotton maintained this exposed position with skill and resolution, from day-light until seven o’clock, at which time Wellington arrived, in company with Beresford, and proceeded to examine the enemy’s movements. The time was critical, and the two English generals were like to have been slain together by a body of French cavalry, not very numerous, which breaking away from the multitude on the head of land beyond the Trabancos, came galloping at full speed across the valley. It was for a moment thought they were deserting, but with headlong course they mounted the table-land on which Cotton’s left wing was posted, and drove a whole line of British cavalry skirmishers back in confusion. The reserves indeed soon came up from Alaejos, and these furious swordsmen being scattered in all directions were in turn driven away or cut down, but meanwhile thirty or forty, led by a noble officer, had brought up their right shoulders, and came over the edge of the table-land above the hollow which separated the British wings at the instant when Wellington and Beresford arrived on the same slope. There were some infantry picquets in the bottom, and higher up, near the French, were two guns covered by a squadron of light cavalry which was disposed in perfect order. When the French officer saw this squadron, he reined in his horse with difficulty, and his troopers gathered in a confused body round him as if to retreat. They seemed lost men, for the British instantly charged, but with a shout the gallant fellows soused down upon the squadron, and the latter turning, galloped through the guns; then the whole mass, friends and enemies, went like a whirlwind to the bottom, carrying away lord Wellington, and the other generals, who with drawn swords and some difficulty, got clear of the tumult. The French horsemen were now quite exhausted, and a reserve squadron of heavy dragoons coming in cut most of them to pieces; yet their invincible leader, assaulted by three enemies at once, struck one dead from his horse, and with surprising exertions saved himself from the others, though they rode hewing at him on each side for a quarter of a mile.
While this charge was being executed, Marmont, who had ascertained that a part only of Wellington’s army was before him, crossed the Trabancos in two columns, and passing by Alaejos, turned the left of the allies, marching straight upon the Guarena. The British retired by Torecilla de la Orden, the fifth division being in one column on the left, the fourth division on the right as they retreated, and the light division on an intermediate line and nearer to the enemy. The cavalry were on the flanks and rear, the air was extremely sultry, the dust rose in clouds, and the close order of the troops rendered it very oppressive, but the military spectacle was exceedingly strange and grand. For then were seen the hostile columns of infantry, only half musket-shot from each other, marching impetuously towards a common goal, the officers on each side pointing forwards with their swords, or touching their caps, and waving their hands in courtesy, while the German cavalry, huge men, on huge horses, rode between in a close compact body as if to prevent a collision. At times the loud tones of command, to hasten the march, were heard passing from the front to the rear, and now and then the rushing sound of bullets came sweeping over the columns whose violent pace was continually accelerated.
Thus moving for ten miles, yet keeping the most perfect order, both parties approached the Guarena, and the enemy seeing that the light division, although more in their power than the others, were yet outstripping them in the march, increased the fire of their guns and menaced an attack with infantry. But the German cavalry instantly drew close round, the column plunged suddenly into a hollow dip of ground on the left which offered the means of baffling the enemy’s aim, and ten minutes after the head of the division was in the stream of the Guarena between Osmo and Castrillo. The fifth division entered the river at the same time but higher up on the left, and the fourth division passed it on the right. The soldiers of the light division, tormented with thirst, yet long used to their enemy’s mode of warfare, drunk as they marched, and the soldiers of the fifth division stopped in the river for only a few moments, but on the instant forty French guns gathered on the heights above sent a tempest of bullets amongst them. So nicely timed was the operation.
The Guarena, flowing from four distinct sources which are united below Castrillo, offered a very strong line of defence, and Marmont, hoping to carry it in the first confusion of the passage, and so seize the table-land of Vallesa, had brought up all his artillery to the front; and to distract the allies’ attention he had directed Clausel to push the head of the right column over the river at Castrillo, at the same time. But Wellington expecting him at Vallesa from the first, had ordered the other divisions of his army, originally assembled at Canizal, to cross one of the upper branches of the river; and they reached the table-land of Vallesa, before Marmont’s infantry, oppressed by the extreme heat and rapidity of the march, could muster in strength to attempt the passage of the other branch. Clausel, however, sent Carier’s brigade of cavalry across the Guarena at Castrillo and supported it with a column of infantry; and the fourth division had just gained the heights above Canizal, after passing the stream, when Carier’s horsemen entered the valley on their left, and the infantry in one column menaced their front. The sedgy banks of the river would have been difficult to force in face of an enemy, but Victor Alten though a very bold man in action, was slow to seize an advantage, and suffered the French cavalry to cross and form in considerable numbers without opposition; he assailed them too late and by successive squadrons instead of by regiments, and the result was unfavourable at first. The fourteenth and the German hussars were hard-pressed, the third dragoons came up in support, but they were immediately driven back again by the fire of some French infantry, the fight waxed hot with the others, and many fell, but finally general Carier was wounded and taken, and the French retired. During this cavalry action the twenty-seventh and fortieth regiments coming down the hill, broke the enemy’s infantry with an impetuous bayonet charge, and Alten’s horsemen being then disengaged sabred some of the fugitives.
This combat cost the French who had advanced too far without support, a general and five hundred soldiers; but Marmont, though baffled at Vallesa, and beaten at Castrillo, concentrated his army at the latter place in such a manner as to hold both banks of the Guarena. Whereupon Wellington recalled his troops from Vallesa; and as the whole loss of the allies during the previous operations was not more than six hundred, nor that of the French more than eight hundred, and that both sides were highly excited, the day still young, and the positions although strong, open, and within cannon-shot, a battle was expected. Marmont’s troops had however been marching for two days and nights incessantly, and Wellington’s plan did not admit of fighting unless forced to it in defence, or under such circumstances, as would enable him to crush his opponent, and yet keep the field afterwards against the king.
By this series of signal operations, the French general had passed a great river, taken the initiatory movement, surprised the right wing of the allies, and pushed it back above ten miles. Yet these advantages are to be traced to the peculiarities of the English general’s situation which have been already noticed, and Wellington’s tactical skill was manifested by the extricating of his troops from their dangerous position at Castrejon without loss, and without being forced to fight a battle. He however appears to have erred in extending his troops to the right when he first reached the Duero, for seeing that Marmont could at pleasure pass that river and turn his flanks, he should have remained concentrated on the Guarena, and only pushed cavalry posts to the line of the Duero above Toro. Neither should he have risked his right wing so far from his main body from the evening of the 16th to the morning of the 18th. He could scarcely have brought it off without severe loss, if Marmont had been stronger in cavalry, and instead of pushing forwards at once to the Guarena had attacked him on the march. On the other hand the security of the French general’s movements, from the Trabancos to the Guarena, depended entirely on their rapidity; for as his columns crossed the open country on a line parallel to the march of the allies, a simple wheel by companies to the right would have formed the latter in order of battle on his flank while the four divisions already on the Guarena could have met them in front.
But it was on the 16th that the French general failed in the most glaring manner. His intent was, by menacing the communication with Salamanca and Ciudad Rodrigo, to force the allies back, and strike some decisive blow during their retreat. Now on the evening of the 16th he had passed the Duero at Toro, gained a day’s march, and was then actually nearer to Salamanca than the allies were; and had he persisted in his movement Wellington must have fought him to disadvantage or have given up Salamanca, and passed the Tormes at Huerta to regain the communication with Ciudad Rodrigo. This advantage Marmont relinquished, to make a forced march of eighty miles in forty-eight hours, and to risk the execution of a variety of nice and difficult evolutions, in which he lost above a thousand men by the sword or by fatigue, and finally found his adversary on the 18th still facing him in the very position which he had turned on the evening of the 16th!
On the 19th the armies maintained their respective ground in quiet until the evening, when Marmont concentrated his troops in one mass on his left near the village of Tarazona, and Wellington, fearing for his right, again passed the second branch of the Guarena, at Vallesa, and El Olmo, and took post on the table-land above those villages. The light division, being in front, advanced to the edge of the table-land, overlooking the enemy’s main body which was at rest round the bivouac fires; yet the picquets would have been quietly posted, if sir Stapleton Cotton coming up at the moment, had not ordered captain Ross to turn his battery of six-pounders upon a group of French officers. At the first shot the enemy seemed surprised, at the second their gunners run to their pieces, and in a few moments a reply from twelve eight-pounders shewed the folly of provoking a useless combat. An artillery officer was wounded in the head, several of the British soldiers fell in different parts of the line, one shot swept away a whole section of Portuguese, and finally the division was obliged to withdraw several hundred yards in a mortifying manner to avoid a great and unnecessary effusion of blood.
The allies being now formed in two lines on the table-land of Vallesa offered a fair though not an easy field to the enemy; Wellington expected a battle the next day, because the range of heights which he occupied, trended backwards to the Tormes on the shortest line; and as he had thrown a Spanish garrison into the castle of Alba de Tormes, he thought Marmont could not turn his right, or if he attempted it, that he would be shouldered off the Tormes at the ford of Huerta. He was mistaken. The French general was more perfectly acquainted with the ground and proved that he could move an army with wonderful facility.
On the 20th at day-break instead of crossing the Guarena to dispute the high land of Vallesa, Marmont marched rapidly in several columns, covered by a powerful rear-guard, up the river to Canta la Piedra, and crossed the stream there, though the banks were difficult, before any disposition could be made to oppose him. He thus turned the right flank of the allies and gained a new range of hills trending towards the Tormes, and parallel to those leading from Vallesa. Wellington immediately made a corresponding movement. Then commenced an evolution similar to that of the 18th, but on a greater scale both as to numbers and length of way. The allies moving in two lines of battle within musket-shot of the French endeavoured to gain upon and cross their march at Cantalpino; the guns on both sides again exchanged their rough salutations as the accidents of ground favoured their play; and again the officers, like gallant gentlemen who bore no malice and knew no fear, made their military recognitions, while the horsemen on each side watched with eager eyes, for an opening to charge; but the French general moving his army as one man along the crest of the heights, preserved the lead he had taken, and made no mistake.
At Cantalpino it became evident that the allies were outflanked, and all this time Marmont had so skilfully managed his troops that he furnished no opportunity even for a partial attack. Wellington therefore fell off a little and made towards the heights of Cabeça Vellosa and Aldea Rubia, intending to halt there while the sixth division and Alten’s cavalry, forcing their march, seized Aldea Lengua and secured the position of Christoval. But he made no effort to seize the ford of Huerta, for his own march had been long and the French had passed over nearly twice as much ground, wherefore he thought they would not attempt to reach the Tormes that day. However when night approached, although his second line had got possession of the heights of Vellosa, his first line was heaped up without much order in the low ground between that place and Hornillos; the French army crowned all the summit of the opposite hills, and their fires, stretching in a half circle from Villaruela to Babila Fuente, shewed that they commanded the ford of Huerta. They could even have attacked the allies with great advantage had there been light for the battle. The English general immediately ordered the bivouac fires to be made, but filed the troops off in succession with the greatest celerity towards Vellosa and Aldea Rubia, and during the movement the Portuguese cavalry, coming in from the front, were mistaken for French and lost some men by cannon-shot ere they were recognised.
Wellington was deeply disquieted at the unexpected result of this day’s operations which had been entirely to the advantage of the French general. Marmont had shewn himself perfectly acquainted with the country, had outflanked and outmarched the allies, had gained the command of the Tormes, and as his junction with the king’s army was thus secured he might fight or wait for reinforcements or continue his operations as it seemed good to himself. But the scope of Wellington’s campaign was hourly being more restricted. His reasons for avoiding a battle except at advantage, were stronger than before, because Caffarelli’s cavalry was known to be in march, and the army of the centre was on the point of taking the field; hence though he should fight and gain a victory, unless it was decisive, his object would not be advanced. That object was to deliver the Peninsula, which could only be done by a long course of solid operations incompatible with sudden and rash strokes unauthorized by any thing but hope; wherefore yielding to the force of circumstances, he prepared to return to Portugal and abide his time; yet with a bitter spirit, which was not soothed by the recollection, that he had refused the opportunity of fighting to advantage, exactly one month before and upon the very hills he now occupied. Nevertheless that stedfast temper, which then prevented him from seizing an adventitious chance, would not now let him yield to fortune more than she could ravish from him: he still hoped to give the lion’s stroke, and resolved to cover Salamanca and the communication with Ciudad Rodrigo to the last moment. A letter stating his inability to hold his ground was however sent to Castaños, but it was intercepted by Marmont, who exultingly pushed forwards without regard to the king’s movements; and it is curious that Joseph afterwardsKing’s correspondence, MSS. imagined this to have been a subtlety of Wellington’s to draw the French general into a premature battle.
On the 21st while the allies occupied the old position of Christoval, the French threw a garrison into Alba de Tormes, from whence the Spaniards had been withdrawn by Carlos D’España, without the knowledge of the English general. Marmont then passed the Tormes, by the fords between Alba and Huerta, and moving up the valley of Machechuco encamped behind Calvariza Ariba, at the edge of a forest which extended from the river to that place. Wellington also passed the Tormes in the course of the evening by the bridges, and by the fords of Santa Marta and Aldea Lengua; but the third division and D’Urban’s cavalry remained on the right bank, and entrenched themselves at Cabrerizos, lest the French, who had left a division on the heights of Babila Fuente, should recross the Tormes in the night and overwhelm them.
It was late when the light division descended the rough side of the Aldea Lengua mountain to cross the river, and the night came suddenly down, with more than common darkness, for a storm, that common precursor of a battle in the Peninsula, was at hand. Torrents of rain deepened the ford, the water foamed and dashed with encreasing violence, the thunder was frequent and deafening, and the lightning passed in sheets of fire close over the column, or played upon the points of the bayonets. One flash falling amongst the fifth dragoon guards, near Santa Marta, killed many men and horses, while hundreds of frightened animals breaking loose from their piquet ropes, and galloping wildly about, were supposed to be the enemy’s cavalry charging in the darkness, and indeed some of their patroles were at hand; but to a military eye there was nothing more imposing than the close and beautiful order in which the soldiers of that noble light division, were seen by the fiery gleams to step from the river to the bank and pursue their march amidst this astounding turmoil, defying alike the storm and the enemy.
The position now taken by the allies was nearly the same as that occupied by general Graham a month before, when the forts of Salamanca were invested. The left wing rested in the low ground on the Tormes, near Santa Marta, having a cavalry post in front towards Calvariza de Abaxo. The right wing extended along a range of heights which ended also in low ground, near the village of Arapiles, and this line being perpendicular to the course of the Tormes from Huerta to Salamanca, and parallel to its course from Alba to Huerta, covered Salamanca. But the enemy extending his left along the edge of the forest, still menaced theSee [Plan 3.] line of communication with Ciudad Rodrigo; and in the night advice came that general Chauvel, with near two thousand of Caffarelli’s horsemen, and twenty guns, had actually reached Pollos on the 20th, and would join Marmont the 22nd or 23rd. Hence Wellington, feeling that he must now perforce retreat to Ciudad Rodrigo, and fearing that the French cavalry thus reinforced would hamper his movements, determined, unless the enemy attacked him, or committed some flagrant fault, to retire before Chauvel’s horsemen could arrive.
At day-break on the 22nd, Marmont who had called the troops at Babila Fuente over the Tormes, by the ford of Encina, brought Bonet’s and Maucune’s divisions up from the forest and took possession of the ridge of Calvariza de Ariba; he also occupied in advance of it a wooded height on which was an old chapel called Nuestra Señora de la Pena. But at a little distance from his left, and from the English right, stood a pair of solitary hills, called the Two Arapiles, about half cannon-shot from each other; steep and savagely rugged they were, and the possession of them would have enabled the French general to form his army across Wellington’s right, and thus bring on a battle with every disadvantage to the allies, confined, as the latter would have been, between the French army and the Tormes. These hills were neglected by the English general until a staff officer, who had observed the enemy’s detachments stealing towards them, first informed Beresford, and afterwards Wellington of the fact. The former thought it was of no consequence, but the latter immediately sent the seventh Caçadores to seize the most distant of the rocks, and then a combat occurred similar to that which happened between Cæsar and Afranius at Lerida; for the French seeing the allies’ detachment approaching, broke their own ranks, and running without order to the encounter gained the first Arapiles and kept it, but were repulsed in an endeavour to seize the second. This skirmish was followed by one at Nuestra Señora de la Pena, which was also assailed by a detachment of the seventh division, and so far successfully, that half that height was gained; yet the enemy kept the other half, and Victor Alten, flanking the attack with a squadron of German hussars, lost some men and was himself wounded by a musket-shot.
The result of the dispute for the Arapiles rendered a retreat difficult to the allies during day-light; for though the rock gained by the English was a fortress in the way of the French army, Marmont, by extending his left, and by gathering a force behind his own Arapiles, could still frame a dangerous battle and pounce upon the allies during their movement. Wherefore Wellington immediately extended his right into the low ground, placing the light companies of the guards in the village of Arapiles, and the fourth division, with exception of the twenty-seventh regiment, which remained at the rock, on a gentle ridge behind them. The fifth and sixth divisions he gathered in one mass upon the internal slope of the English Arapiles, where from the hollow nature of the ground they were quite hidden from the enemy; and during these movements a sharp cannonade was exchanged from the tops of those frowning hills, on whose crowning rocks the two generals sat like ravenous vultures watching for their quarry.
Marmont’s project was not yet developed; his troops coming from Babila Fuente were still in the forest, and some miles off; he had only two divisions close up, and the occupation of Calvariza Ariba, and Nuestra Señora de la Pena, was a daring defensive measure to cover the formation of his army. The occupation of the Arapiles was however a start forward, for an advantage to be afterwards turned to profit, and seemed to fix the operations on the left of the Tormes. Wellington, therefore, brought up the first and the light divisions to confront the enemy’s troops on the height of Calvariza Ariba; and then calling the third division and D’Urban’s cavalry over the river, by the fords of Santa Marta, he posted them in a wood near Aldea Tejada, entirely refused to the enemy and unseen by him, yet in a situation to secure the main road to Ciudad Rodrigo. Thus the position of the allies was suddenly reversed; the left rested on the English Arapiles, the right on Aldea Tejada; that which was the rear became the front, and the interval between the third and the fourth division was occupied by Bradford’s Portuguese infantry, by the Spaniards, and by the British cavalry.
This ground had several breaks and hollows, so that few of these troops could be viewed by the enemy, and those which were, seemed, both from their movement and from their position, to be pointing to the Ciudad Rodrigo road as in retreat. The commissariat and baggage had also been ordered to the rear, the dust of their march was plainly to be seen many miles off, and hence there was nothing in the relative position of the armies, save their proximity, to indicate an approaching battle. Such a state of affairs could not last long. About twelve o’clock Marmont, fearing that the important bearing of the French Arapiles on Wellington’s retreat would induce the latter to drive him thence, hastily brought up Foy’s and Ferey’s divisions in support, placing, the first, with some guns, on a wooded height between the Arapiles and Nuestra Señora de la Pena, the second, and Boyer’s dragoons, behind Foy on the ridge of Calvariza de Ariba. Nor was this fear ill-founded, for the English general, thinking that he could not safely retreat in day-light without possessing both Arapiles, had actually issued orders for the seventh division to attack the French, but perceiving the approach of more troops, gave counter-orders lest he should bring on the battle disadvantageously. He judged it better to wait for new events, being certain that at night he could make his retreat good, and wishing rather that Marmont should attack him in his now strong position.
The French troops coming from Babila Fuente had not yet reached the edge of the forest, when Marmont, seeing that the allies would not attack, and fearing that they would retreat before his own dispositions were completed, ordered Thomieres’ division, covered by fifty guns and supported by the light cavalry, to menace the Ciudad Rodrigo road. He also hastened the march of his other divisions, designing, when Wellington should move in opposition to Thomieres, to fall upon him, by the village of Arapiles, with six divisions of infantry and Boyer’s dragoons, which last, he now put in march to take fresh ground on the left of the Arapiles rocks, leaving only one regiment of cavalry, to guard Foy’s right flank at Calvariza.
In these new circumstances, the positions of the two armies embraced an oval basin formed by different ranges of hills, that rose like an amphitheatre of which the Arapiles rocks might be considered the door-posts. This basin was about a mile broad from north to south, and more than two miles long from east to west. The northern and western half-formed the allies’ position, which extended from the English Arapiles on the left to Aldea Tejada on the right. The eastern heights were held by the French right, and their left, consisting of Thomieres’ division with the artillery and light cavalry, was now moving along the southern side of the basin; but the march was wide and loose, there was a long space between Thomieres’ and the divisions, which, coming from the edge of the forest were destined to form the centre, and there was a longer space between him and the divisions about the Arapiles. Nevertheless, the mass of artillery placed on his right flank was very imposing, and opened its fire grandly, taking ground to the left by guns, in succession, as the infantry moved on; and these last marched eagerly, continually contracting their distance from the allies, and bringing up their left shoulders as if to envelope Wellington’s position and embrace it with fire. At this time also, Bonet’s troops, one regiment of which held the French Arapiles, carried the village of that name, and although soon driven from the greatest part of it again, maintained a fierce struggle.
Marmont’s first arrangements had occupied several hours, yet as they gave no positive indication of his designs, Wellington ceasing to watch him, had retired from the Arapiles. But at three o’clock, a report reached him that the French left was in motion and pointing towards the Ciudad Rodrigo road; then starting up he repaired to the high ground, and observed their movements for some time, with a stern contentment, for their left wing was entirely separated from the centre. The fault was flagrant, and he fixed it with the stroke of a thunderbolt. A few orders issued from his lips like the incantations of a wizard, and suddenly the dark mass of troops which covered the English Arapiles, was seemingly possessed by some mighty spirit, and rushing violently down the interior slope of the mountain, entered the great basin amidst a storm of bullets which seemed to shear away the whole surface of the earth over which the soldiers moved. The fifth division instantly formed on the right of the fourth, connecting the latter with Bradford’s Portuguese, who hastened forward at the same time from the right of the army, and the heavy cavalry galloping up on the right of Bradford, closed this front of battle. The sixth and seventh divisions flanked on the right by Anson’s light cavalry, which had now moved from the Arapiles, were ranged at half cannon-shot in a second line, which was prolonged by the Spaniards in the direction of the third division; and this last, reinforced by two squadrons of the fourteenth dragoons, and by D’Urban’s Portuguese horsemen, formed the extreme right of the army. Behind all, on the highest ground, the first and light divisions and Pack’s Portuguese were disposed in heavy masses as a reserve.
When this grand disposition was completed, the third division and its attendant horsemen, the whole formed in four columns and flanked on the left by twelve guns, received orders to cross the enemy’s line of march. The remainder of the first line, including the main body of the cavalry was directed to advance whenever the attack of the third division should be developed; and as the fourth division must in this forward movement necessarily lend its flank to the enemy’s troops stationed on the French Arapiles, Pack’s brigade was commanded to assail that rock the moment the left of the British line should pass it. Thus, after long coiling and winding, the armies came together, and drawing up their huge trains like angry serpents mingled in deadly strife.
BATTLE OF SALAMANCA.
Marmont, from the top of the French Arapiles, saw the country beneath him suddenly covered with enemies at a moment when he was in the act of making a complicated evolution, and when, by the rash advance of his left, his troops were separated into three parts, each at too great a distance to assist the other, and those nearest the enemy neither strong enough to hold their ground, nor aware of what they had to encounter. The third division was, however, still hidden from him by the western heights, and he hoped that the tempest of bullets under which the British line was moving in the basin beneath, would check it until he could bring up his reserve divisions, and by the village of Arapiles fall on what was now the left of the allies’ position. But even this, his only resource for saving the battle, was weak, for on that point there were still the first and light divisions and Pack’s brigade, forming a mass of twelve thousand troops with thirty pieces of artillery; the village itself was well disputed, and the English Arapiles rock stood out as a strong bastion of defence. However, the French general, nothing daunted, despatched officer after officer, some to hasten up the troops from the forest, others to stop the progress of his left wing, and with a sanguine expectation still looked for the victory until he saw Pakenham with the third division shoot like a meteor across Thomieres’ path; then pride and hope alike died within him, and desperately he was hurrying in person to that fatal point, when an exploding shell stretched him on the earth with a broken arm and two deep wounds in his side. Confusion ensued and the troops distracted by ill-judged orders and counter-orders knew not where to move, who to fight or who to avoid.
It was about five o’clock when Pakenham fell upon Thomieres, and it was at the instant when that general, the head of whose column had gained an open isolated hill at the extremity of the southern range of heights, expected to see the allies, in full retreat towards the Ciudad Rodrigo road, closely followed by Marmont from the Arapiles. The counter-stroke was terrible! Two batteries of artillery placed on the summit of the western heights suddenly took his troops in flank, and Pakenham’s massive columns supported by cavalry, were coming on full in his front, while two-thirds of his own division, lengthened out and unconnected, were still behind in a wood where they could hear, but could not see the storm which was now bursting. From the chief to the lowest soldier all felt that they were lost, and in an instant Pakenham the most frank and gallant of men commenced the battle.
The British columns formed lines as they marched, and the French gunners standing up manfully for the honour of their country, sent showers of grape into the advancing masses, while a crowd of light troops poured in a fire of musketry, under cover of which the main body endeavoured to display a front. But bearing onwards through the skirmishers with the might of a giant, Pakenham broke the half-formed lines into fragments, and sent the whole in confusion upon the advancing supports; one only officer, with unyielding spirit, remained by the artillery; standing alone he fired the last gun at the distance of a few yards, but whether he lived or there died could not be seen for the smoke. Some squadrons of light cavalry fell on the right of the third division, but the fifth regiment repulsed them, and then D’Urban’s Portuguese horsemen, reinforced by two squadrons of the fourteenth dragoons under Felton Harvey, gained the enemy’s flank. The Oporto regiment, led by the English Major Watson,[Appendix I.] instantly charged the French infantry, yet vainly, Watson fell deeply wounded and his men retired.
Pakenham continued his tempestuous course against the remainder of Thomieres’ troops, which were now arrayed on the wooded heights behind the first hill, yet imperfectly, and offering two fronts the one opposed to the third division and its attendant horsemen, the other to the fifth division, to Bradford’s brigade and the main body of cavalry and artillery, all of which were now moving in one great line across the basin. Meanwhile Bonet’s troops having failed at the village of Arapiles were sharply engaged with the fourth division, Maucune kept his menacing position behind the French Arapiles, and as Clauzel’s division had come up from the forest, the connection of the centre and left was in some measure restored; two divisions were however still in the rear, and Boyer’s dragoons were in march from Calvariza Ariba. Thomieres had been killed, and Bonet, who succeeded Marmont, had been disabled, hence more confusion; but the command of the army devolved on Clauzel, and he was of a capacity to sustain this terrible crisis.
The fourth and fifth divisions, and Bradford’s brigade, were now hotly engaged and steadily gaining ground; the heavy cavalry, Anson’s light dragoons and Bull’s troop of artillery were advancing at a trot on Pakenham’s left; and on that general’s right D’Urban’s horsemen overlapped the enemy. Thus in less than half an hour, and before an order of battle had even been formed by the French, their commander-in-chief and two other generals had fallen, and the left of their army was turned, thrown into confusion and enveloped. Clauzel’s division had indeed joined Thomieres’, and a front had been spread on the southern heights, but it was loose and unfit to resist; for the troops were, some in double lines, some in columns, some in squares; a powerful sun shone full in their eyes, the light soil, stirred up by the trampling of men and horses, and driven forward by a breeze, which arose in the west at the moment of attack, came full upon them mingled with smoke in such stifling clouds, that scarcely able to breathe and quite unable to see, their fire was given at random.
In this situation, while Pakenham, bearing onward with a conquering violence, was closing on their flank and the fifth division advancing with a storm of fire on their front, the interval between the two attacks was suddenly filled with a whirling cloud of dust, which moving swiftly forward carried within its womb the trampling sound of a charging multitude. As it passed the left of the third division Le Marchant’s heavy horsemen flanked by Anson’s light cavalry, broke forth from it at full speed, and the next instant twelve hundred French infantry though formed in several lines were trampled down with a terrible clamour and disturbance. Bewildered and blinded, they cast away their arms and run through the openings of the British squadrons stooping and demanding quarter, while the dragoons, big men and on big horses, rode onwards smiting with their long glittering swords in uncontroulable power, and the third division followed at speed, shouting as the French masses fell in succession before this dreadful charge.
Nor were these valiant swordsmen yet exhausted. Their own general, Le Marchant, and many officers had fallen, but Cotton and all his staff was at their head, and with ranks confused, and blended together in one mass, still galloping forward they sustained from a fresh column an irregular stream of fire which emptied a hundred saddles; yet with fine courage, and downright force, the survivors broke through this the third and strongest body of men that had encountered them, and lord Edward Somerset, continuing his course at the head of one squadron, with a happy perseverance captured five guns. The French left was entirely broken, more than two thousand prisoners were taken, the French light horsemen abandoned that part of the field, and Thomieres’ division no longer existed as a military body. Anson’s cavalry which had passed quite over the hill and had suffered little in the charge, was now joined by D’Urban’s troopers, and took the place of Le Marchant’s exhausted men; the heavy German dragoons followed in reserve, and with the third and fifth divisions and the guns, formed one formidable line, two miles in advance of where Pakenham had first attacked; and that impetuous officer with unmitigated strength still pressed forward spreading terror and disorder on the enemy’s left.
While these signal events, which occupied about forty minutes, were passing on the allies’ right, a terrible battle raged in the centre. For when the first shock of the third division had been observed from the Arapiles, the fourth division, moving in a line with the fifth, had passed the village of that name under a prodigious cannonade, and vigourously driving Bonet’s troops backwards, step by step, to the southern and eastern heights, obliged them to mingle with Clauzel’s and with Thomieres’ broken remains. When the combatants had passed the French Arapiles, which was about the time of Le Marchant’s charge, Pack’s Portuguese assailed that rock, and the front of battle was thus completely defined, because Foy’s division was now exchanging a distant cannonade with the first and light divisions. However Bonet’s troops, notwithstanding Marmont’s fall, and the loss of their own general, fought strongly, and Clauzel made a surprising effort, beyond all men’s expectations, to restore the battle. Already a great change was visible. Ferey’s division drawn off from the height of Calvaraza Ariba arrived in the centre behind Bonet’s men; the light cavalry, Boyer’s dragoons, and two divisions of infantry, from the forest, were also united there, and on this mass of fresh men, Clauzel rallied the remnants of his own and Thomieres’ division. Thus by an able movement, Sarrut’s, Brennier’s, and Ferey’s unbroken troops, supported by the whole of the cavalry, were so disposed as to cover the line of retreat to Alba de Tormes, while Maucune’s division was still in mass behind the French Arapiles, and Foy’s remained untouched on the right.
But Clauzel, not content with having brought the separated part of his army together and in a condition to effect a retreat, attempted to stem the tide of victory in the very fulness of its strength and roughness. His hopes were founded on a misfortune which had befallen general Pack; for that officer ascending the French Arapiles in one heavy column, had driven back the enemy’s skirmishers and was within thirty yards of the summit, believing himself victorious, when suddenly the French reserves leaped forward from the rocks upon his front, and upon his left flank. The hostile masses closed, there was a thick cloud of smoke, a shout, a stream of fire, and the side of the hill was covered to the very bottom with the dead the wounded and the flying Portuguese, who were scoffed at for this failure without any justice; no troops could have withstood that crash upon such steep ground, and the propriety of attacking the hill at all seems very questionable. The result went nigh to shake the whole battle. For the fourth division had just then reached the southern ridge of the basin, and one of the best regiments in the service was actually on the summit when twelve hundred fresh adversaries, arrayed on the reverse slope, charged up hill; and as the British fire was straggling and ineffectual, because the soldiers were breathless and disordered by the previous fighting, the French who came up resolutely and without firing won the crest. They were even pursuing down the other side when two regiments placed in line below, checked them with a destructive volley.
This vigorous counter-blow took place at the moment when Pack’s defeat permitted Maucune, who was no longer in pain for the Arapiles hill, to menace the left flank and rear of the fourth division, but the left wing of the fortieth regiment immediately wheeled about and with a rough charge cleared the rear. Maucune would not engage himself more deeply at that time, but general Ferey’s troops pressed vigorously against the front of the fourth division, and Brennier did the same by the first line of the fifth division, Boyer’s dragoons also came on rapidly, and the allies being outflanked and over-matched lost ground. Fiercely and fast the French followed and the fight once more raged in the basin below. General Cole had before this fallen deeply wounded, and Leith had the same fortune, but Beresford promptly drew Spry’s Portuguese brigade from the second line of the fifth division and thus flanked the advancing columns of the enemy; yet he also fell desperately wounded, and Boyer’s dragoons then came freely into action because Anson’s cavalry had been checked after Le Marchant’s charge by a heavy fire of artillery.
The crisis of the battle had now arrived and the victory was for the general who had the strongest reserves in hand. Wellington, who was seen that day at every point of the field exactly when his presence was most required, immediately brought up from the second line, the sixth division, and its charge was rough, strong, and successful. Nevertheless the struggle was no slight one. The men of general Hulse’s brigade, which was on the left, went down by hundreds, and the sixty-first and eleventh regiments won their way desperately and through such a fire, as British soldiers only, can sustain. Some of Boyer’s dragoons also breaking in between the fifth and sixth divisions slew many men, and caused some disorder in the fifty-third; but that brave regiment lost no ground, nor did Clauzel’s impetuous counter-attack avail at any point, after the first burst, against the steady courage of the allies. The southern ridge was regained, the French general Menne was severely, and general Ferey, mortally wounded, Clauzel himself was hurt, and the reserve of Boyer’s dragoons coming on at a canter were met and broken by the fire of Hulse’s noble brigade. Then the changing current of the fight once more set for the British. The third division continued to outflank the enemy’s left, Maucune abandoned the French Arapiles, Foy retired from the ridge of Calvariza, and the allied host righting itself as a gallant ship after a sudden gust, again bore onwards in blood and gloom, for though the air, purified by the storm of the night before, was peculiarly clear, one vast cloud of smoke and dust rolled along the basin, and within it was the battle with all its sights and sounds of terror.
When the English general had thus restored the fight in the centre, he directed the commander of the first division to push between Foy and the rest of the French army, which would have rendered it impossible for the latter to rally or escape; but this order was not executed, and Foy’s and Maucune’s divisions were skilfully used by Clauzel to protect the retreat. The first, posted on undulating ground and flanked by some squadrons of dragoons, covered the roads to the fords of Huerta and Encina; the second, reinforced with fifteen guns, was placed on a steep ridge in front of the forest, covering the road to Alba de Tormes; and behind this ridge, the rest of the army, then falling back in disorder before the third, fifth, and sixth divisions, took refuge. Wellington immediately sent the light division, formed in two lines and flanked by some squadrons of dragoons, against Foy; and he supported them by the first division in columns, flanked on the right by two brigades of the fourth division which he had drawn off from the centre when the sixth division restored the fight. The seventh division and the Spaniards followed in reserve, the country was covered with troops, and a new army seemed to have risen out of the earth.
Foy throwing out a cloud of skirmishers retired slowly by wings, turning and firing heavily from every rise of ground upon the light division, which marched steadily forward without returning a shot, save by its skirmishers; for three miles the march was under this musketry, which was occasionally thickened by a cannonade, and yet very few men were lost, because the French aim was baffled, partly by the twilight, partly by the even order and rapid gliding of the lines. But the French general Desgraviers was killed, and the flanking brigades from the fourth division having now penetrated between Maucune and Foy, it seemed difficult for the latter to extricate his troops from the action; nevertheless he did it and with great dexterity. For having increased his skirmishers on the last defensible ridge, along the foot of which run a marshy stream, he redoubled his fire of musketry, and made a menacing demonstration with his horsemen just as the darkness fell; the British guns immediately opened their fire, a squadron of dragoons galloped forwards from the left, the infantry, crossing the marshy stream, with an impetuous pace hastened to the summit of the hill, and a rough shock seemed at hand, but there was no longer an enemy; the main body of the French had gone into the thick forest on their own left during the firing, and the skirmishers fled swiftly after, covered by the smoke and by the darkness.
Meanwhile Maucune maintained a noble battle. He was outflanked and outnumbered, but the safety of the French army depended on his courage; he knew it, and Pakenham, marking his bold demeanour, advised Clinton, who was immediately in his front, not to assail him until the third division should have turned his left. Nevertheless the sixth division was soon plunged afresh into action under great disadvanatge, for after being kept by its commander a long time without reason, close under Maucune’s batteries which ploughed heavily through the ranks, it was suddenly directed by a staff officer to attack the hill. Assisted by a brigade of the fourth division, the troops then rushed up, and in the darkness of the night the fire shewed from afar how the battle went. On the side of the British a sheet of flame was seen, sometimes advancing with an even front, sometimes pricking forth in spear heads, now falling back in waving lines, and anon darting upwards in one vast pyramid, the apex of which often approached yet never gained the actual summit of the mountain; but the French musketry, rapid as lightning, sparkled along the brow of the height with unvarying fulness, and with what destructive effects the dark gaps and changing shapes of the adverse fire showed too plainly. Yet when Pakenham had again turned the enemy’s left, and Foy’s division had glided into the forest, Maucune’s task was completed, the effulgent crest of the ridge became black and silent, and the whole French army vanished as it were in the darkness.
Meanwhile Wellington, who was with the leading regiment of the light division, continued to advance towards the ford of Huerta leaving the forest to his right, for he thought the Spanish garrison was still in the castle of Alba de Tormes, and that the enemy must of necessity be found in a confused mass at the fords. It was for this final stroke that he had so skilfully strengthened his left wing, nor was he diverted from his aim by marching through standing corn where no enemy could have preceded him; nor by Foy’s retreat into the forest, because it pointed towards the fords of Encina and Gonzalo, which that general might be endeavouring to gain, and the right wing of the allies would find him there. A squadron of French dragoons also burst hastily from the forest in front of the advancing troops, soon after dark, and firing their pistols passed at full gallop towards the ford of Huerta, thus indicating great confusion in the defeated army, and confirming the notion that its retreat was in that direction. Had the castle of Alba been held, the French could not have carried off a third of their army, nor would they have been in much better plight if Carlos D’España, who soon discovered his error in withdrawing the garrison, had informed Wellington of the fact; but he suppressed it and suffered the colonel who had only obeyed his orders to be censured; the left wing therefore continued their march to the ford without meeting any enemy, and, the night being far spent, were there halted; the right wing, exhausted by long fighting, had ceased to pursue after the action with Maucune, and thus the French gained Alba unmolested; but the action did not terminate without two remarkable accidents. While riding close behind the forty-third regiment, Wellington was struck in the thigh by a spent musket-ball, which passed through his holster; and the night picquets had just been set at Huerta, when sir Stapleton Cotton, who had gone to the ford and returned a different road, was shot through the arm by a Portuguese sentinel whose challenge he had disregarded. These were the last events of this famous battle, in which the skill of the general was worthily seconded by troops whose ardour may be appreciated by the following anecdotes.
Captain Brotherton of the fourteenth dragoons, fighting on the 18th at the Guarena, amongst the foremost, as he was always wont to do, had a sword thrust quite through his side, yet on the 22d he was again on horseback, and being denied leave to remain in that condition with his own regiment, secretly joined Pack’s Portuguese in an undress, and was again hurt in the unfortunate charge at the Arapiles. Such were the officers. A man of the forty-third, one by no means distinguished above his comrades, was shot through the middle of the thigh, and lost his shoes in passing the marshy stream; but refusing to quit the fight, he limped under fire in rear of his regiment, and with naked feet, and streaming of blood from his wound, he marched for several miles over a country covered with sharp stones. Such were the soldiers, and the devotion of a woman was not wanting to the illustration of this great day.
The wife of colonel Dalbiac, an English lady of a gentle disposition and possessing a very delicate frame, had braved the dangers, and endured the privations of two campaigns, with the patient fortitude which belongs only to her sex; and in this battle, forgetful of every thing but that strong affection which had so long supported her, she rode deep amidst the enemy’s fire, trembling yet irresistibly impelled forwards by feelings more imperious than horror, more piercing than the fear of death.