Then they dashed into camp to learn particulars. Not much could be gathered as yet, beyond the bare fact that an immediate advance was commanded. With light-hearted enthusiasm, the whole Army responded. Moore, upon whom the full weight of responsibility rested, could scarcely be light of heart. He knew too well what this move might mean.
When news was first received of the complete collapse of the Spaniards, he had planned a retreat to Portugal, there to await reinforcements from England. But heavy pressure was brought to bear upon him. And as one assurance after another was given, from various quarters, that the Spaniards were still in the mood to fight, with vehement urging that he would not forsake the unfortunate people whom he had come to help, he at length resolved to give them one more opportunity to show themselves men.
A daring conception had come to his mind, and it was promptly carried out. Instead of retiring at once to a position of safety, he would first make a bold swoop upon Soult's Army, thus threatening the line of Napoleon's communications with France. And his object in so doing was, simply and definitely, by drawing the weight of the Conqueror's fury upon himself and his small British force, to relieve the fearful pressure upon the southern provinces of Spain.
It was a startling and a hazardous step. In the hand of any less brilliant and experienced Commander, it might have ended in an awful disaster—in a modern Thermopylae on a huge scale—in the wholesale destruction of the British force.
Napoleon had expected, as a matter of course, that Moore would retreat so soon as the Spanish armies melted away. What else could he do? Napoleon had at this date within the borders of Spain 330,000 soldiers, 60,000 horses, and 200 pieces of field artillery. Moore had with him less than 24,000 soldiers, and perhaps another 10,000 in Portugal, inclusive of 4000 in hospital.
Then, to Napoleon's unbounded amazement, he learnt—getting the news on December 2—that, in place of retreating, the puny British force was boldly advancing towards the Douro.
The Emperor's exclamation, as heard by Marshal Ney, and afterwards repeated by him to Major Charles Napier, was—
"Moore is the only General now fit to contend with me! I shall advance against him in person."
Buonaparte seldom did things by halves, and he acted with even more than his accustomed energy.
The force and genius of this English Commander, by whom he was so daringly opposed, had suddenly burst upon him; and he at once knew that no common effort on his own part would secure him the victory.