A history of the Peninsular War, Vol. 4, Dec. 1810-Dec. 1811

by Charles Oman

The Army of Estremadura having been practically destroyed,—the demoralized remnant of 4,000 horse and foot which escaped into Portugal counted for nothing,—Soult could at last besiege Badajoz from both sides of the river, and reckon on being undisturbed in his operations. He left three battalions, a battery, and five regiments of Montbrun’s cavalry on the north bank, to invest the fort of San Cristobal, and returned, with the rest of the force that had won the battle, to his lines. There was still much to be done, for the governor Menacho was resolute, and the garrison had been raised to over 8,000 men by the influx of Mendizabal’s fugitives. The siege was destined to last three weeks longer, and might have been prolonged to a far greater duration if Menacho had not been killed on March 4; as long as he lived the defence was vigorous and honourable.

Though Soult could concentrate all his attention on the approaches towards the curtain between the bastions of Santiago and San Juan, they did not progress very rapidly. Menacho brought up all the artillery that could be readily moved on the threatened front, and continued to pound the ruins of the Pardaleras and the trenches leading up to it. It was only on the night of the 24th February that a battery was at last completed under the right flank of the fort, and another under its left, to keep down the fire of the defenders. Nor was it till the 28th of the same month and the 1st of March that the zigzags began to creep forward from the second parallel towards the body of the place. On the 2nd of March the approaches reached the demi-lune outside the bastion of San Juan, and the French could look down into the ditch, but they found the counterscarp in good order, and the palisades intact. On the 3rd they commenced mining, with the object of blowing in the counterscarp and filling the ditch. But their work was stopped by a vigorous sortie, the last which Menacho sent out. A small column of Spaniards passed out of the left bastion, seized and demolished the advanced trenches, and spiked the twelve guns which armed the two nearest batteries. The progress of the besiegers was checked for a day—but at a disastrous cost, for the governor himself, while watching the effect of the sortie from the ramparts, was killed by a chance shot. His place was taken by the senior brigadier in the place, José Imaz, a man of desponding heart and utterly lacking in energy. It was a thousand pities that, when the rout of the Gebora took place, neither La Carrera nor Carlos de España had been driven back into Badajoz, for both these officers were men of desperate resolution, who would have played out a losing game to the last moment with stubborn courage. The French narratives note that from the moment of Menacho’s death the defence slackened; it became partly passive, and was no longer conducted with common skill. No more sorties were made, and there seemed to be a lack of ingenuity in the measures taken to resist the completion of the approaches[77]. All that was done was to keep up a hot fire on the head of the French sap, and to replace one disabled gun by another upon the walls.

On the 4th of March the besiegers had lodged themselves solidly in the demi-lune of the bastion of San Juan, and had commenced on the very edge of the ditch a battery for six heavy guns (24-pounders), which were to work upon the curtain between San Juan and Santiago, the place selected for the breaching. On the 5th the embrasures were completed, on the 7th the guns were got into position, on the 8th the counterscarp was blown in by a mine, and the battery began to play upon the walls at a distance of only sixty yards. Though the besieged kept up a terrible fire upon it, and killed many gunners, its effect was all that the French had desired. The ramparts began to crumble, and on the morning of the 10th there was a breach seventy feet wide in the curtain, near the bastion of Santiago, while the ditch was half filled with débris. The engineers pronounced that an assault was practicable, though another day’s fire would be desirable to finish the business. The Spanish guns on the front attacked were all silenced, but from the flanking bastions a fire was still kept up, which would obviously be very murderous to the storming columns. It was clear that it would be better to subdue it, and to batter the breach into an easier slope, before the assault should be delivered.

Soult, however, was anxious to press matters, for he had received on the 8th two pieces of news which completely changed the strategical situation. The first was that Masséna had given orders for the evacuation of Santarem and his other positions on the Tagus five days before, and had already commenced his retreat towards the north. There was no longer any chance of joining the Army of Portugal and attacking Wellington. Indeed, it was probable that the English general would find himself free to make a large detachment against the besiegers of Badajoz, and that, if the town should not fall within the next ten days, Beresford’s 15,000 men from the south bank of the Tagus would appear at Elvas or Campo Mayor, ready to attack the siege-lines in the rear. And Soult from his experiences of 1809 was quite aware that to meet an Anglo-Portuguese army would not be a business like that of the Gebora.

But this was not all. News of the most disquieting kind had just arrived from Andalusia. Victor reported from in front of Cadiz that a large expeditionary force, comprising an English division, had landed at Algesiras and Tarifa on February 25th-26th, had moved into the inland, and was evidently about to attack his siege-lines from the rear. He expressed grave doubts as to the situation. Daricau, the Governor of Seville, had even a worse report to make: the roving division of Ballasteros, which had been driven into Portugal by Gazan on January 25th, had recrossed the Spanish frontier the moment that its pursuers had retired, had invaded the Condado de Niebla, and had inflicted a severe defeat on Remond, whose small corps had been left to cover that region, on the Rio Tinto (March 2nd). Daricau reported that the Spaniards were marching on Seville, and that, after leaving a skeleton garrison of convalescents and Juramentados in the city, he was moving out with a field force of no more than 1,600 bayonets to rally Remond’s men, and fight at San Lucar la Mayor for the protection of the capital of Andalusia. Ballasteros was believed to have a considerable force, and the result was doubtful.

On the morning of the 10th of March, therefore, Soult was in no small distress concerning the fate of Daricau and Victor, whose last dispatches were now six or seven days old, and who might have suffered disasters, for all that he knew, since those dispatches were written. If modern methods of communication had existed in 1811, he would have known already that Victor had suffered a complete and bloody defeat at Barrosa on March 5th. He was therefore prepared to take great risks at Badajoz, in order to have his army free at any cost for the succour of Andalusia. Mortier was ordered to get all ready for a storm during the course of the afternoon, but meanwhile, when a few hours’ battering after dawn had somewhat improved the slope of the breach, a parlementaire was sent into Badajoz at 9 a.m. to summon Imaz to capitulate. The letter which he bore was couched in such elaborate terms of politeness, complimenting the Spaniards on their long and gallant resistance, and intimating that the most honourable terms would be granted, that the governor should have suspected that Soult was not sure of his ground. But to a man cowed in spirit and weighed down by a responsibility too great for him, such hints were useless. Imaz summoned a council of war, the regular refuge of weak commanders, and called into it a veritable crowd of councillors, not only the three generals and four brigadiers present in the city, the chief engineer, and two artillery officers, but nearly a score of lieutenant-colonels and majors commanding all the battalions represented in the garrison. Unfortunately the engineer colonel, Julian Alvo, who led off the discussion, was the most downhearted man of all: he reported that the breach was from thirty to thirty-two ells (varas) broad, and accessible, as it had an angle of forty-five to fifty degrees; that there had been great difficulty in throwing up retrenchments and inner defences behind it, because at this point the ground-level of the streets of the town was much lower than that of the ramparts. He pointed out that to garrison the whole enceinte with a minimum force would absorb 5,000 men, which would leave only 2,000 to defend the breach. ‘As to the number and morale of the troops, the regimental officers would be able to speak with better knowledge than himself.’ But he held that if the first assault were repulsed, the fall of the town would only be delayed two or three days. If there were evidence that the place might be relieved from outside within that time, it was proper to resist to the last. If not, he thought that the heroic garrison and the city ought not to be sacrificed. For they had fully done their duty, and Badajoz as a fortress was full of defects[78].

Twelve colonels and majors gave their opinions in almost the same terms as the engineer, many repeating his actual phrases, some adding that the rank and file were demoralized[79], others that they were few in number [they actually were only 1,800 less than the infantry of the besieging force]. On the other hand, the commanding artillery officer, Joaquin Caamano, set forth a very different case. ‘The enemy has not yet subdued the fire of the place; the bastions flanking the breach are intact, and have their guns in order; the breach itself has been mined, and a parapet behind it has been thrown up during the last night; in spite of the arguments of the commander of the engineers the assault ought to be resisted, or as an alternative the garrison ought to try to cut its way out by the north bank, towards Elvas or Campo Mayor.’ Caamano was supported by the vote of another artilleryman, the Portuguese João de Mello, commanding a company which Beresford had sent into the city in the preceding year[80], and two major-generals, Garcia and Mancio.

Then came the oddest part of the proceedings. The Governor gave as his opinion that ‘though an inner line of defence has not been contrived, and though very few guns still remain serviceable in the bastions of Santiago, San José, and San Juan, and though we have no succour for sustaining the assault, I think we should defend the place with valour and constancy to our last breath.’ After which he at once commenced negotiations with the French parlementaire, in direct contradiction to his own vote! Apparently he thought that thirteen votes for surrender against four for resistance among his councillors covered his ignominy. The worst part of his conduct was that he was aware that an army of succour was on the march to help him. For Badajoz had semaphore communication with Elvas, and on the preceding day the Portuguese General Leite had telegraphed to him, by Wellington’s orders, that Beresford had been detached with two divisions to hasten to his aid on March 8th[81]. As a matter of fact, Beresford’s movement into Estremadura was retarded, and his corps did not move off for some days later, but Imaz did not know this, and he was certainly guilty of concealing from his officers that prompt succour had been promised, and was actually upon its way. The whole responsibility for the surrender falls on him, because he allowed Alvo, and the other voters for capitulation, to produce uncontradicted the statement that no relief was probable, while he knew himself that it had been promised. It is impossible to deny that this was pusillanimity reaching into and over the border of treason.

After making some foolish hagglings for eighteenth-century ceremonial of honour—the garrison was to march out by the breach, drums beating, with two cannons at its head, with lighted matches, &c.—Imaz surrendered at 3 o’clock in the afternoon, and the lofty San Cristobal and the bridge-head fort were occupied by the French before dusk. Next day the troops came forth, not by the breach, because it was found impossible to scramble down it, but by the Trinidad gate, and laid down their arms[82]. They numbered 7,880 men, and there were 1,100 sick and wounded in the hospitals; the total loss in the town during the siege had been 1,851 casualties, almost the same as that of the French, which came to just under 2,000. But the 800 killed and wounded, and 4,000 prisoners of the Gebora must, of course, be added to the balance.

Badajoz was found by the victors to contain rations for 8,000 men sufficient to last for over a month, more than 150 serviceable cannon, 80,000 lb. of powder, 300,000 infantry cartridges, and two bridge equipages. There is not the slightest doubt that if Menacho had lived the place would have held out till it was relieved by Beresford. For the latter, who was finally ordered to move to its relief on March 12th, would have reached its neighbourhood on the 18th, if he had not been checked on the first day of his start by the news that the city had fallen[83]. After the need for hurry had been removed by this disheartening intelligence, he moved slowly, but was in front of Campo Mayor, less than ten miles from Badajoz, on the 24th.