There was indeed not a moment to be lost. By forced marches and the utmost expedition the first and most perilous stage was done. The river Esla was crossed; and not too soon. Napoleon, pushing furiously forward, bent heart and soul on getting to Benevente before the English, found himself twelve hours too late. Moore had precisely reckoned his time, and had neatly baffled Europe's Conqueror.
A few days later, on the first of January, Napoleon had a second dire mortification. He reached Astorga, for which he had aimed—again straining every nerve, with the hope of cutting off Moore's retreat,—and, as at the Esla, he was once more a day too late. A second time Moore had quietly slipped away out of his grasp.
While at Astorga he heard of a fresh alliance between Russia and Austria, and of a meditated attack upon France during his absence. The crushing of Spain, delayed by Moore, had to be put off. Napoleon, with a body of troops, hurried back to Paris. But he left Soult and Ney in command of sixty or seventy thousand men in two columns, the one to attack Moore in rear, the other to take him in flank, while thousands scattered about the country were advancing to support them.
Enough, in all conscience, one would imagine, to deal with a retreating force of less than twenty-four thousand!
[CHAPTER XXXVI]
A HAZARDOUS RETREAT
WITH almost superhuman energy the greatest General of that day had exerted himself to bring up such a force, that the utter destruction of the British might be a thing assured. In the course of ten days, and in the bitterest wintry weather, he had marched fifty thousand soldiers over snow-clad mountains a distance of two hundred miles, only to find his stupendous efforts fruitless.
Now, all that Moore could hope to do was to save his little Army from being crushed out of existence. To that aim he buckled his powers, with unfaltering resolution. As William Napier wrote in after years, "The inspiring hopes of triumph disappeared, but the austerer glory of suffering remained, and with a firm heart he accepted that gift."
By the greater number in Moore's force this long ten days' retreat to the coast had to be done on foot.
There were steep mountains to be climbed, there were deep valleys to be passed, there were rapid rivers to be crossed; while an overwhelming and confident Army, accustomed to unvarying success—an Army which had twice failed by only twelve hours to cut them off from every hope of escape—pressed with ever-growing fierceness upon the British rearguard.