Major Rice had been unfortunate in his horses. One, it will be remembered, broke away and deserted to the enemy at Badajoz. The second was fated to be eaten by the allied troops. Probably the owner considered the end of his second horse no more dreadful than that of the first; and it is to be hoped that Government compensated him for the loss of his two chargers, though it is not probable that any such generosity was shown to the British officer, who, at that time, was even required to provide at his own expense beasts of burden to carry his baggage in the field.
Five days after these events the Salamanca forts fell, and Marmont beat a retreat towards Valladolid. Wellington followed leisurely, keeping touch with the enemy's rearguard, and engaging it slightly at the bridge of Tordesillas on the 2nd July. But neither side yet felt inclined to give battle; and the British were by no means hopeful that their labours were going to be rewarded with a fight. Major Rice certainly took a gloomy view of the future when he wrote, on the 6th July, from Camp near Medina del Campo—
"Our lord, I am just told, is making up his dispatches, and we scrubs are graciously permitted to avail ourselves of the opportunity. Since I last communicated, nothing of importance has transpired. The army appears to have come to a check—rather, I think, than a fault. Marmont has earthed himself safe on the left bank of the Douro, and secured the bridge in front of Tordesillas. The fords are not good and are always precarious, but about these I know nothing, so I ought not to presume to give an opinion as to what is intended, or what can be done with safety to the army. His lordship only can know, as he must necessarily possess the best information as to the strength and resources of the enemy. For my part, I am not a bit more sanguine in this glorious cause than ever, and though we have dashed a few leagues in this patriotic ground among the vivas of the mob, manœuvring seems to be the game that both parties are inclined to, and, if I may judge, both are equally shy as to general action. We have been wretchedly off for this some time; scanty fare, bad biscuit, &c. The weather dreadfully hot by day and cold by night—beyond what I ever experienced. We are lying in cornfields without the smallest covering. How the men stand this severe work is to me astonishing. A few days must soon bring to light our lord's gigantic plan for annihilating the foe. If we take water or form bridge, it will be a second Lodi. My brains are baking into a paste. It is just rumoured that the brutes won't fight; if so, the game must be up in this favourite peninsula."
Marmont was now reinforced by Bonet's division, and, with this addition to his strength, the French general was able to turn on Wellington and force him to retire. Though at times Marmont pressed his adversary hard, day succeeded day without any decided advantage being gained by either side. Throughout the 19th, 20th, and 21st July, the hostile armies manœuvred in presence of each other, at the end of which time both armies had passed to the left bank of the Tormes river. On the 22nd, Marmont, by rapidly extending his left, attempted to cut Wellington's communications with Portugal, but the wide extension proved his ruin, for the British commander saw the opportunity for which he had been waiting so long, and immediately seized it. He hurled one division against the French left with such vigour as to roll it back in complete disorder, and, simultaneously, with two other divisions he assailed the centre with like results. Then bethinking himself of making victory doubly sure, he despatched the Light Division post-haste to the Huerta ford, in the hope of barring the passage of the Tormes to the disorganised masses of the enemy. This movement, however, failed, as the French crossed higher up stream, and made good their escape towards the Douro.
Such, briefly, was the battle of Salamanca, in which Marmont was severely wounded and twelve thousand Frenchmen placed hors de combat, while the Allies suffered a lost of six thousand.
The pursuit was taken up at once, and Clausel, who had succeeded Marmont in command of the French army, collected his forces and withdrew rapidly to Valladolid, which place, however, he was obliged to evacuate on Wellington's arrival near the town on the 30th July. Deciding to profit to the full by his almost unexpected success, the latter then turned south and marched straight for the Spanish capital. King Joseph fled, and on the 12th August the victorious Allies entered Madrid amidst the acclamations of the populace.
Major Rice found no time to write of these events, but one of the subalterns of the 51st thus describes the entry into Madrid: "The next day, the 12th August, the anniversary of the Prince Regent's birthday, we entered the capital of Spain, and never in my life did I witness such a scene. No quiet John Bull can conceive the enthusiasm the people of Madrid displayed on that day. If we had been angels instead of men, we could not have been better received. Our division was the first British one that entered, and our regiment, being the head of the column, had the good fortune to lead. The crowds gathered round us so quickly that we could scarce move on; they seemed frantic with joy; every balcony, every window was filled with beautiful women, who showered down flowers upon our heads as we passed, and the air was rent with acclamations of 'Long live the brave scarlet fellows (colorados), our deliverers!' 'George for ever!' 'Wellington, the brave Wellington, for ever!' But when Wellington himself came, no language can describe their feelings or enthusiasm. They fell on their knees to kiss the ground his horse's hoofs had pressed, and they deemed themselves fortunate if they could only touch his clothes. Never shall I forget our entrance."
The French still held the Retiro, a fortified post in the centre of the city, and on the following evening, while the officers of the 51st were preparing to go to a ball given by the citizens to Wellington and his officers, orders were received for the regiment and the 68th to invest the place forthwith. Some few shots were exchanged with the French sentries that night, but a cordon was drawn rapidly round the Retiro, and next morning, when the fort was on the point of being stormed, the garrison surrendered—amongst the captures on this occasion being, strange to relate, the eagle of the 51st French Regiment, which, with others, was sent to England and eventually deposited in Chelsea Hospital. And there were some of the British 51st who regarded this eagle in the light of a phœnix rising from the ashes of the colours burned on the eve of the battle of Fuentes d'Onor.