It was lucky for the King that he was not induced to try the experiment of falling upon Wellesley and Cuesta with the 28,000 men of Victor and the Central Reserve. If he had done so, he would have suffered a frightful disaster and have lost Madrid.

In the end of June and the first days of July Joseph’s main attention had been drawn off to that part of his front where there was least danger, so that he was paying comparatively little heed to the movements of the allies on the lower Tagus. He had been distracted by a rash and inexplicable movement of the Spanish army of La Mancha. When General Venegas had heard of the retreat of Victor from Estremadura, and had been informed that Cuesta was about to move forward in pursuit of the 1st Corps, he had concluded that his own troops might also advance. He argued that Sebastiani and the 4th Corps must beat a retreat, when their right flank was uncovered by Victor’s evacuation of the valley of the Guadiana. He was partly justified in his idea, for Joseph had drawn back Sebastiani’s main body to Madridejos when Victor abandoned Merida. It was safe therefore to advance from the Despeña Perros into the southern skirts of La Mancha, as far as Manzanares and the line of the Guadiana. But to go further forward was dangerous, unless Venegas was prepared to risk a collision with Sebastiani. This he was certainly not in a condition to do: his troops had not yet recovered from the moral effects of the rout of Ciudad Real, and his brigades were full of new battalions of untried Andalusian reserves. He should have been cautious, and have refused to move without concerting his operations with Cuesta: to have had his corps put hors de combat at the very beginning of the joint campaign of the allied armies would have been most disastrous.

Nevertheless Venegas came down from the passes of the Sierra Morena with 18,000 infantry, 3,000 horse, and twenty-six guns, and proceeded to thrust back Sebastiani’s cavalry screen and to push in his outposts in front of Madridejos. The French general had in hand at this moment only two infantry divisions and Milhaud’s dragoons; his third division and his light cavalry were still absent with Victor, to whom they had been lent in March for the campaign of Medellin. But with 13,000 foot and 2,000 horse[579] he ought not to have feared Venegas, and could have given a good account of him had he chosen to attack. But having received exaggerated reports of the strength of the Spanish army, he wrote to the King that he was beset by nearly 40,000 men and must be reinforced at once, or he would have to fall back on Madrid[580]. Joseph, fully believing the news, sent orders to Victor to restore to the 4th Corps the divisions of Leval and Merlin, and then, doubting whether these troops could arrive in time, sallied out of Madrid on June 22 with his Guards and half the division of Dessolles—about 5,500 men.

It was lucky for Venegas that Sebastiani had refused to fight him, but still more lucky that the news of the King’s approach reached him promptly. On hearing that Joseph had joined the 4th Corps on June 25 he was wise enough to turn on his heel and retreat in all haste towards his lair in the passes of the Sierra Morena. If he had lingered any longer in the plains he would have been destroyed, for the King, on the arrival of Leval’s and Merlin’s divisions, would have fallen upon him at the head of 27,000 men. As it was, Venegas retired with such promptitude to Santa Cruz de Mudela, at the foot of the passes, that the French could never catch him. Joseph pursued him as far as Almagro and El Moral, on the southern edge of La Mancha, and there stopped short. He had received, on July 2, a dispatch from Victor to the effect that Cuesta had repaired the bridge of Almaraz and begun to cross the Tagus, while a body of 10,000 allied troops, presumably Portuguese, had been heard of in the direction of Plasencia[581]. (This was in reality the whole army of Wellesley!) Rightly concluding that he had pushed the pursuit of Venegas too far, the King turned back in haste, left Sebastiani and the 4th Corps behind the Guadiana, and returned with his reserve to Toledo, in order to be in a position to support Victor. His excursion to Almagro had been almost as reckless and wrongheaded as Venegas’s advance to Madridejos, for he had separated himself from Victor by a gap of 200 miles, at the moment when the British army was just appearing on the Marshal’s flank, while Cuesta was in his front. If the allied generals had concentrated their forces ten days earlier—a thing that might well have happened but for the vexatious delays at Abrantes caused by Cuesta’s impracticability—the 1st Corps might have been attacked at the moment when Joseph lay at the foot of the Sierra Morena, in a position too remote from Talavera to allow him to come up in time to succour Victor.

While the King was absent on his expedition in pursuit of Venegas the most important change in the situation of affairs on the Tagus was that the Duke of Belluno had drawn back his troops from the line of the Tagus, where they had been lying since June 19, and had retired behind the Alberche. His retreat was not caused by any apprehension as to the appearance of Wellesley on his flank—a fact which was completely concealed from him—but by sheer want of provisions. On June 25 he sent to the King to say that his army was again starved out of its cantonments, and that he had eaten up in a week the small remnant of food that could be squeezed out of the country-side between the Tagus and the Tietar, and was forced to transfer himself to another region. ‘The position,’ he wrote, ‘is desperate. The 1st Corps is on the eve of dissolution: the men are dropping down from mere starvation. I have nothing, absolutely nothing, to give them. They are in a state of despair.... I am forced to fall back on Talavera, where there are no more resources than here. We must have prompt succour, but where can it be found? If your Majesty abandons me in my present wretched situation, I lose my honour, my military record—everything. I shall not be to blame for the disaster which menaces my troops, but I shall have to bear the blame. Tomorrow I shall be at Talavera, waiting your Majesty’s orders. The enemy [Cuesta] has a pontoon-train: if he wishes to cross the Tagus he can do so, for the 1st Corps can no longer remain opposite him. Never was there a more distressing situation than ours[582].’

On June 26, therefore, Victor transferred himself to Talavera, and adopted a position behind the Alberche, after burning the materials of the late pontoon bridge at Almaraz, which he had taken up and stored in case they might again be needed. His movement was a lucky one for himself, as it took him further away from Wellesley’s army, which was just about to start from Abrantes with the object of turning his flank. It puzzled Cuesta, who sought for some other explanation of his departure than mere starvation, and was very cautious in taking advantage of it. However, on the day after the French had withdrawn, he pushed troops across the Tagus, and prepared to construct another bridge at Almaraz to replace that which the French had destroyed. His cavalry pushed out to Navalmoral and Oropesa, and further to the east he passed some detachments of infantry across the bridge of Arzobispo, which Victor—most unaccountably—had left intact. Fortunately he did no more, and refrained from advancing against Talavera, a step which from his earlier record we should judge that he might well have taken into consideration.

On the part of the allies things were now in a state of suspense from which they were not to stir for a fortnight. Cuesta was waiting for Wellesley, Wellesley was pushing forward from Zarza la Mayor to join Cuesta. Venegas was recovering at Santa Cruz de Mudela from the fatigues of his fruitless expedition into La Mancha.

But on the French side matters suffered a sudden change in the last days of July—the hand of the Emperor was stretched out from the banks of the Danube to alter the general dispositions of the army of Spain. On June 12 he had dictated at Schönbrunn a new plan of campaign, based on information which was already many weeks old when it reached him. At this date the Emperor was barely aware that Soult was being pressed by Wellesley in Northern Portugal. He had no detailed knowledge of what was taking place in Galicia or the Asturias, and was profoundly ignorant of the intrigues at Oporto which afterwards roused his indignation. But he was convinced that the English army was the one hostile force in Spain which ought to engage the attention of his lieutenants. Acting on this belief he issued an order that the 2nd, 5th, and 6th Corps—those of Soult, Mortier, and Ney—were to be united into a single army, and to be told off to the task of evicting Wellesley from Portugal. They were to put aside for the present all such subsidiary enterprises as the subjection of Galicia and the Asturias, and to devote themselves solely to ‘beating, hunting down, and casting into the sea the British army. If the three Corps join in good time the enemy ought to be crushed, and then the Spanish war will come to an end. But the troops must be moved in masses and not march in small detachments.... Putting aside all personal considerations, I give the command of the united army to the Duke of Dalmatia, as the senior marshal. His three Corps ought to amount to something between 50,000 and 60,000 men[583].’

This dispatch reached King Joseph at El Moral in La Mancha on July 1, and Soult at Zamora on July 2. It had been drawn up in view of events that were taking place about May 15. It presupposed that the British army was still in Northern Portugal, in close touch with Soult, and that Victor was in Estremadura[584]. As a matter of fact Soult was on this day leading his dilapidated corps down the Esla, at the end of his retreat from Galicia. Ney, furious at the way in which his colleague had deserted him, had descended to Astorga three days before. Mortier was at Valladolid, just about to march for Villacastin and Madrid, for the King had determined to draw him down to aid in the defence of the capital. Finally, Cuesta, instead of lying in the Sierra Morena, as he was when Napoleon drew up his orders, was now on the Tagus, while Wellesley was no longer in touch with Soult on the Douro, but preparing to fall upon Victor in New Castile. The whole situation was so changed that the commentary which the Emperor appended to his orders was hopelessly out of date—as was always bound to be the case so long as he persisted in endeavouring to direct the course of affairs in Spain from the suburbs of Vienna.

Soult was overjoyed at receiving the splendid charge which the Emperor’s decree put into his hands, though he must have felt secret qualms at the idea that ere long some account of his doings at Oporto must reach the imperial head quarters and provoke his master’s wrath. There was a bad quarter of an hour to come[585]. But meanwhile he was given a formidable army, and might hope to retrieve the laurels that he had lost in Portugal, being now in a position to attack the British with an overwhelming superiority of numbers. It must have been specially delightful to him to find that Ney had been put under his orders, so that he would be able to meet his angry colleague in the character of a superior officer dealing with an insubordinate lieutenant.