Madrid now gave itself up to gaiety—balls, bull-fights, illuminations, and fêtes of every description, and a week later the 51st marched to the Escorial, where it was quartered until the 1st September. On that day Wellington, leaving two divisions under General Hill at Madrid, took the remainder of his army with him and marched north, for the purpose of driving back the enemy from the Douro to Burgos. "Our march," says Ensign Mainwaring of the 51st, "though rapid, was by no means disagreeable; for traversing a rich wine-country, our route lay through vast plains covered with vineyards, and at this season, autumn, just before the vintage, the vines were laden with clusters of ripe grapes, tempting to the appetite and beautiful to the eye. In this manner we travelled on, without anything occurring worthy of note till we came within sight of the castle of Burgos, and we began to anticipate, not with much pleasure, all the inglorious toils and arduous and fatiguing business of a siege—the most disagreeable military duty a soldier has on service, digging and delving in dust and dirt like ploughmen, to shelter ourselves, ere morning's dawn, from shot and shell whizzing about our ears at each moment, killing or mutilating our next neighbour. No excitement, as in a general action, by the immediate prospect of getting at the foe, your only hope that you may get through your twenty-four hours in the trenches unscathed, back to your bivouac, to eat, drink, and sleep till your turn in the batteries comes round again, varied by the storm of an outwork or a sortie of the enemy, to either of which occurrences the soldier looks forward as something to enliven and break in upon the routine of his daily labours."
Clausel had withdrawn slowly from the Douro as Wellington advanced, and on the 18th September passed through Burgos, leaving a garrison of eighteen hundred men in the castle. To invest and reduce this Wellington set to work immediately, twelve thousand men being detailed for the siege and twenty thousand for the covering force. So strong, however, was the castle, and so determined the garrison, that after an investment of thirty-three days, during which time five separate assaults were delivered and repulsed, and several desperate sallies of the garrison were met and beaten back, Wellington was obliged to abandon the enterprise and raise the siege, when he learned, in the middle of October, that Clausel, having received a reinforcement of twelve thousand fresh troops from France, was marching down upon him with some forty-four thousand men. During these operations the 51st, with the remainder of the 7th Division, formed part of the covering army, watching the country between Burgos and Vittoria, and spending some days near the village of Monasterio, but never called upon to do more than check reconnaissances pushed out by the enemy.
On the 21st October began the memorable retreat from Burgos—a retreat which proved almost as arduous as that to Corunna, nearly four years before. The weather was generally severe, and the enemy pressed the pursuit vigorously, ever engaging the cavalry of the rearguard and sometimes making captures. The rivers were in flood and seldom passable save at the bridges, facts which gave the advantage to Wellington, whose engineers, now adept at mines and explosions, blew up each bridge as it was crossed, and thus from time to time checked the French onslaught. In this way, by the 26th October, Wellington was behind the Pisuerga river, with the mined bridge at Cabezon between him and the enemy, and thence he despatched parties to secure the bridges in his rear—viz., at Tudela and Tordesillas on the Douro, and at Valladolid and Simancas on the Pisuerga. The 7th Division was employed in holding the three last-named bridges, the 51st being responsible for that at Valladolid. The French came on swiftly, and leaving a division in front of Wellington's main body, threw out their right and swept down on the post held by the 51st. Opening from the high ground on the opposite bank with cannon and musketry, the enemy soon rendered the bridge untenable; but the company of the 51st defending it, even after the lieutenant in command had been borne to the rear with his right arm shattered, gallantly held on until the mine was ready. Then, having lost three men killed and fourteen wounded, the company withdrew rapidly as the bridge was blown up. The bridge at Simancas, being similarly menaced, was also destroyed, as was that at Tordesillas, on the 28th, by a party of the Brunswick Oels Corps detached for the purpose. But the destruction of the latter bridge was of little avail, for it was followed by an act of daring gallantry on the part of the French, perhaps without parallel in the history of war. Riding up to the broken bridge, the Frenchmen, annoyed at finding it impassable, hesitated for a moment, but then, dismounting, they set to work to form a small raft, upon which they placed their arms and clothes. Napier tells the story of what followed, and it is worth repeating. "Sixty officers and non-commissioned officers," he says, "then plunged into the water with their swords between their teeth, swimming, and pushing the raft before them. Under the protection of a cannonade they thus crossed this great river, though it was in full and strong water and the weather very cold, and having reached the other side, naked as they were, stormed the tower, whereupon the Brunswickers, amazed at the action, abandoned their ground, leaving the gallant Frenchmen masters of the passage."
The French restored the bridge as quickly as possible, but in the meanwhile Wellington had withdrawn to the left bank of the Douro by the Tudela bridge and by the Puente de Douro, and on the 30th October he marched towards Tordesillas in such strength as to prevent the enemy making use of the bridge which they had so nobly won. On this very spot Major Rice wrote his last letter of the year:—
"Camp before the Bridge of Tordesillas,
left bank of the Douro,
5th November 1812.
"You will not fail to perceive, as per date, that our movements of late have been retrograde—I won't call it in this place retreating, because it is possibly only a little run on the part of our Most Noble and Gallant Marquis, whose judgment and military abilities are inferior nulli—not even Bony the Great. You will, however, see all in public print, and then you may call it what you like, and I think we shall be perfectly d'accord. My last short and hasty, though brilliant, display of matter was from Monasterio. The following day we were pushed in very gallantly (by superior force understood); our loss not great, and we committed some havoc among the legions—hats and wigs cheap enough. The great superiority of the enemy in all the arms of war, I suppose, upon reconnaissance, decided his lordship on raising the siege of Burgos and falling back. The fact of the matter is, we were doing too much for our means, and, entre nous, are lucky in getting clear off. Our movements have been rapid, and not a little pressed; fine destruction of bridges, &c.; in fact, all the agreeables attending retrograde movements, or, as Soult calls them, to the flank.
"Our division defended the front of Valladolid, to retard the enemy. Our regiment lost a few men; a poor woman, singularly enough, was killed by the first cannon ball fired, and an officer minus an arm. Two officers of ours have also died this week. Our sufferings have not been a little; the weather horridly cold and wet; not once under cover for these last two months. The poor soldiers dreadfully off; but I must not depict all the miseries; the truth must not be told at all times. And why tell you, or talk on subjects which you cannot understand? I often think how ridiculous one of my compositions would appear in print, under the head of 'Intercepted Correspondence from Spain!'
"The whole army is now encamped in an immense vineyard—as far as the eye can reach, and the river between us and Mr Frenchman. Our people chat across, while going for water or washing. War is a strange business, and I am most heartily tired of the novelty. Hill's army has quitted the Tagus, and is moving upon us. The game, I think, is pretty well up. It is labour in vain, while poor John Bull only suffers and bleeds, as you will see by those who caught the bubble against the walls of Burgos. How lucky we are to get out of the digging business! So excellent a corps must always be in front, for the general safety of the whole. The unfortunate country people are being driven to desperation; what between friend and foe, their situation is deplorable; everything is taken from them, either by force or on requisition. The scenes of warfare are too shocking to witness. Sick and wounded men, in want of every comfort, add to the horrors which words cannot describe. But one must not reflect. Some French wag wrote up upon a wall: un bon soldat faut avoir la force d'un cheval, le cœur d'un lion, l'appétit d'un souris, l'humanité d'un bête—a true bill enough, and expressive of the Peninsular and Favourite War. The army must have repose; it is naked, jaded, and done up. If the lord gets hold of this, I shall certainly be hanged. You shall hear soon of further operations and all agreeables."