It was soon evident that the French were—as so often before during the last six days—about to extend their left wing. The right or southern flank of Wellington’s line rested on the rocky knoll, 400 feet high, which is known as the ‘Lesser Arapile.’ Six hundred yards from it, and outside the allied zone of occupation, lay the ‘Greater Arapile,’ which is a few feet higher and much longer than its fellow. These two curious hills, sometimes called the ‘Hermanitos’ or ‘little brothers,’ are the most striking natural feature in the country-side. They rise a hundred and fifty feet above the valley which lies between them, and a hundred feet above the heights on either side. Their general appearance somewhat recalls that of Dartmoor ‘Tors,’ rough rock breaking out through the soil. But their shapes differ: the Greater Arapile shows crags at each end, but has a comparatively smooth ascent to its centre on its northern front—so smooth that steep ploughed fields have been laid out upon it, and extend almost to the crest. The Lesser Arapile is precipitous on its southern front, where it faces its twin, but is joined at its back (or northern) side by a gentle slope to the main line of the heights where Wellington’s army lay. It is in short an integral part of them, though it rises far above their level. The Greater Arapile, on the other hand, is an isolated height, not belonging to the system of much lower knolls which lies to its south. These, three-quarters of a mile away, are covered with wood, and form part of the long forest which reaches as far as the neighbourhood of Alba de Tormes.
Wellington had left the Greater Arapile outside his position, partly because it was completely separated from the other heights that he held, partly (it is said) because he had surveyed the ground in the dusk, and had judged the knoll farther from the Lesser Arapile than was actually the case; they were within easy cannon-shot from each other[514]. At about eight o’clock, French skirmishers were observed breaking out from the woods to the south of the Arapile and pushing rapidly toward it. They were followed by supporting columns in strength—indeed Marmont had directed the whole of Bonnet’s division to move, under cover of the trees, to the point where the woods approach nearest to the hill, and from thence to carry it if possible. Wellington, now judging that it was uncomfortably near to his right flank, ordered the 7th Caçadores—from the 4th Division, the unit that lay nearest—to race hard for the Greater Arapile and try to seize it before the French had arrived. They made good speed but failed: the enemy was on the crest first, and repulsed them with some loss. They had to fall back to behind the Lesser Arapile, which was held by the first British brigade of their division (W. Anson’s).
Marmont had seized the Greater Arapile, as he tells us, to form a strong advanced post, behind which he could move his main body westward, in pursuance of his old design of turning Wellington’s right. It was to be the ‘pivot on which the flanking movement should be made,’ the ‘point d’appui of the right of his army’ when it should reach its new position[515]. Bonnet’s troops being firmly established on and behind it, he began to move his divisions to their left. On his original ground, the plateau of Calvarisa de Ariba, he left Foy’s division in front line—still bickering with the skirmishing line of the allies—Ferey’s division in support, and Boyer’s dragoons to cover the flank against any possible attack from the British cavalry, who were in force on Wellington’s left, and still had detachments out on the plateau by Pelabravo, beyond Foy’s extreme right. Having made this provision against any possible attempt to attack him in the rear while he was executing his great manœuvre, Marmont marched his five remaining divisions[516], under cover of Bonnet’s advanced position, to the edge of the wooded hills in rear of the Great Arapile, where they remained for some time in a threatening mass, without further movement.
Wellington, clearly discerning from the summit of the Lesser Arapile this general shift of the enemy to the left, now made great alterations in the arrangement of his troops, and adopted what may be called his second battle-position. The 4th Division, about and around that height, was placed so as to serve for the allied army the same purpose that Bonnet was carrying out for the French on the other Hermanito. Of Cole’s three brigades, that of Anson occupied the Arapile—the 3/27th on the summit, the 1/40th in support on the rear slope. Pack’s independent Portuguese brigade was placed beside Anson. The Fusilier brigade (under Ellis of the 1/23rd) and Stubbs’s Portuguese, the remaining units of the 4th Division, were formed up to the right of the hill, extending as far as the village which takes its name of Arapiles from the two strange knolls. Two guns of Cole’s divisional battery (that of Sympher[517]) were hoisted up with some difficulty to the level of the 3/27th. The other four were left with the Fusiliers near the village[518]. Thus the little Arapile became the obtuse angle of a formation ‘en potence,’ with Pack and two brigades of the 4th Division on its right, and the 7th Division (still engaged at a distance with Foy) and the 1st and Light Divisions on its left. At the same time Wellington moved down the troops which had originally formed his left wing (5th and 6th Divisions, España’s Spaniards, and Bradford’s Portuguese) to a supporting position behind his centre, somewhere near the village of Las Torres, where they could reinforce either his right or his left, as might prove necessary in the end. As a further general reserve G. Anson’s and Le Marchant’s cavalry brigades, and the greater part of Victor Alten’s, were brought away from the original left, and placed in reserve near the 6th Division; but Bock and two of Victor Alten’s squadrons[519] remained on the left, opposite Boyer’s dragoons.
In connexion with this same general move, Wellington sent a most important order to the troops which he had left till this moment on the north bank of the Tormes, covering Salamanca, in the position by Cabrerizos. These consisted of the 3rd Division—which was under the temporary command of Edward Pakenham (Wellington’s brother-in-law) during Picton’s sickness—and the 500 sabres that remained of D’Urban’s Portuguese horse, after one regiment had been sent off on escort-duty with the baggage-train. These corps were directed to march over the town-bridge of Salamanca, and take up a position between Aldea Tejada and La Penilla, to the east of the high-road to Ciudad Rodrigo. There placed, they were available either as a reserve to the newly-formed right wing, or as a supporting échelon, if the whole army should ultimately fall back for a retreat along the high-road, or as a detached force placed so far to the right that it could outflank or throw itself in front of any French troops which might continue Marmont’s advance from the Arapiles westward. It is probable that Wellington, at the moment when he gave the orders, would have been quite unable to say which of these three duties would fall to Pakenham’s share. The 3rd Division marched from Cabrerizos at noon, passing through the city, which was at this moment full of alarms and excursions. For the sight of Marmont close at hand, and of the British baggage-train moving off hastily toward Rodrigo, had filled the inhabitants with dismay. Some were hiding their more valuable property, others (who had compromised themselves by their friendly reception of the allied army) were preparing for hasty flight. Some used bitter language of complaint—the English were retreating without a battle after betraying their friends.
Pakenham and D’Urban reached their appointed station by two o’clock,[520] and halted in a dip in the ground, well screened by trees, between La Penilla and Aldea Tejada, where they could barely be seen from the highest slopes of Wellington’s position, and not at all from any other point. For some time they were left undisturbed, listening to a growing noise of artillery fire to their left front, where matters were evidently coming to a head.
At about eleven o’clock Marmont had climbed to the summit of the French Arapile, from whence he obtained for the first time a partial view into the British position; for looking up the dip in the ground between the Lesser Arapile and the heights occupied by the Fusilier brigade of the 4th Division, he could catch a glimpse of some of the movements that were going on at the back of Wellington’s first line. Apparently he saw the 1st and Light Divisions behind the crest of their destined fighting position, and the 5th and 6th and Bradford’s Portuguese taking ground to their right. Pack’s Portuguese on the flank and rear of the British Arapile must also have been visible at least in part. The conclusion to which he came was that his adversary was accumulating forces behind the Lesser Arapile with the object of sallying out against Bonnet, whose post was very far advanced in front of the rest of the French army, and against Foy and Ferey, who were left in a somewhat isolated position on the plateau by Calvarisa, when the main body of the army had moved so far to the west.
Some such intention seems for a moment to have been in Wellington’s mind, though he says nothing of it in his dispatch. ‘About twelve o’clock,’ writes one of the most trustworthy British diarists, ‘the troops were ordered to attack, and the 1st Division moved forward to gain the other Arapile, which the French had taken.... There was something singular, I think, in Lord Wellington’s ordering the 1st and Light Divisions to attack early in the day, and then counter-ordering them after they had begun to move. Marshal Beresford, no doubt, was the cause of the alteration, by what he urged. Yet at the same time Lord W. is so little influenced (or indeed allows any person to say a word) that his attending to the Marshal was considered singular. From all I could collect and observe “the Peer” was a little nervous: it was the first time he had ever attacked. When he did finally determine on the attack it was well done, in the most decided manner. There was possibly some little trouble in arriving at that decision[521].’ Oddly enough this contemporary note is exactly borne out by Marmont’s statement in his Mémoires, that meeting Wellington years after, he inquired about the point, and was frankly told that an attack had been projected at this moment, but that it had been put off in consequence of the representation of Beresford, who had counselled delay[522]. There was a heavy mass of troops available behind the Lesser Arapile and to both sides of it—the 4th Division, Pack’s Portuguese, and the 1st, 7th, and Light Divisions, with the 5th and 6th and Bradford and the cavalry in reserve. The blow might have succeeded—but undoubtedly that delivered four hours later was much more effective.
The idea of an attack at noon having been finally rejected Wellington turned his mind to another possibility. If Marmont should commit no blunders, and should continue his turning movement at a safe distance, and with his whole army well concentrated, it was quite possible that a retreat might become necessary. The Commander-in-Chief called up Colonel Delancey, then acting as Adjutant-General[523], and directed him to draft a comprehensive scheme for the order in which the troops should be withdrawn, and the route which each division would take in the event of an evacuation of the position. The next stand was to be made, as Marmont had supposed, on the heights above Aldea Tejada, behind the river Zurgain[524]. Such a move would have involved the abandonment of the city of Salamanca to the French. The news spread from the staff round the commanding officers of divisions, and so downwards to the ranks, where it caused immense discontent. Every one was ‘spoiling for a fight,’ and the cautious tactics of the last six days had been causing murmurs, which were only kept from becoming acute by the long-tried confidence that the army felt in its chief.
At this very moment Marmont began to act in the fashion that Wellington most desired, by making an altogether dangerous extension of his left wing, and at the same time pressing in so close to his adversary that he could not avoid a battle if it were thrust upon him. His own explanation is that he took the putting off of Wellington’s tentative movement against Bonnet as a sign that the allied army was actually commencing its retreat. ‘Wellington renounced his intention of fighting, and from that moment he had to prepare to draw away, for if he had remained in his present position I should from the next day have threatened his communications, by marching on to my left. His withdrawal commenced at midday.... He had to retreat by his right, and consequently he had to begin by strengthening his right. He therefore weakened his left, and accumulated troops on his right. Then his more distant units and his reserves commenced to move, and in succession drew off towards Tejares [Aldea Tejada]. His intention was easy to discern.... The enemy having carried off the bulk of his force to his right, I had to reinforce my left, so as to be able to act with promptness and vigour, without having to make new arrangements, when the moment should arrive for falling upon the English rearguard[525].’