But the use of Ballasteros, whose movement must certainly have exercised an immense restraining power upon Soult and King Joseph, if only it had been carried out, was an experiment of a kind which Wellington had tried before, nearly always with disappointing results. To entrust to a Spanish general an essential part of a wide strategical plan had proved ere now a doubtful expedient. And Ballasteros had always shown himself self-willed if energetic; it was dangerous to reckon upon him as a loyal and intelligent assistant in the great game. And at this moment the captain-general of Andalusia was in the most perverse of moods. His ill temper was caused by the recent appointment of Wellington as commander-in-chief of all the Spanish armies, a measure to which the Cortes had at last consented, after the consequences of the battle of Salamanca and the occupation of Madrid had prepared public opinion for this momentous step. It had been bitterly opposed at the secret session when it was brought forward, but there could no longer be any valid excuse for putting off the obviously necessary policy of combining all military effort in the Peninsula, by placing the control of the whole of the Spanish armies in the hands of one who had shown himself such a master of the art of war.

Wellington’s nomination as Generalissimo of the Spanish armies had been voted by the Cortes on September 22nd, and conveyed to him before Burgos on October 2nd. He had every intention of accepting the offer, though (as he wrote to his brother Henry[76]) the change in his position would not be so great in reality as in form, since Castaños and most of the other Spanish generals had of late been wont to consult him on their movements, and generally to fall in with his views. There had been exceptions, even of late, such as Joseph O’Donnell’s gratuitous forcing on of battle at Castalla, when he had been specially asked to hold back till the Anglo-Sicilian expedition began to work upon the East Coast. But it would certainly be advantageous that, for the future, he should be able to issue orders instead of advice. Meanwhile he could not formally accept the post of general-in-chief without the official leave of the Prince Regent, and prompt information of the offer and a request for permission to accept it, were sent to London. The Cortes, foreseeing the necessary delay, had refrained from publishing the decree till it should be certain that Wellington was prepared to assume the position that was offered him. But the fact soon became known in Cadiz, and was openly spoken of in the public press. Wellington continued to write only letters of advice to the Spanish generals, and did not assume the tone of a commander-in-chief as yet, but his advice had already a more binding force. There was no opposition made to him, save in one quarter—but that was the most important one. Ballasteros, as Commander of the 4th Army and Captain-General of Andalusia, burst out into open revolt against the Cortes, the Regency, and the commander-in-chief elect.

This busy and ambitious man had taken up his abode in Granada, after Soult’s departure on September 23rd, and since then had not stirred, though Wellington had repeatedly asked him to advance into La Mancha with his available force, and to put himself in touch with Elio, Penne Villemur, and Hill. But Ballasteros was suffering from an acute attack of megalomania: after years of skulking in the mountains and forced marches, he was now in the position of a viceroy commanding the resources of a great province. Though Andalusia had been cleared of the French by no merit of his, but as a side-effect of the battle of Salamanca, he gave himself the airs of a conqueror and deliverer, and fully believed himself to be the most important person in Spain. As an acute observer remarked, ‘Ballasteros wanted to begin where Bonaparte ended, by seizing supreme authority, though he had performed no such services for his fatherland as the French general. He spared no effort to attach his army to his person, and to win its favour sacrificed without hesitation the whole civil population. The land was drained of all resources, but he found new means of extorting money. His officers went from town to town exacting a so-called “voluntary contribution” for the army. Those who gave much were put in his white book as patriots—those who did not were enrolled in his black book as supporters of King Joseph. He wanted to collect all the troops in Andalusia into a great army, with himself as commander. But the Regency directed him, in accordance with Wellington’s advice, to march at once with the troops immediately available and take post in La Mancha[77].’

Then came the news of Wellington’s nomination as commander-in-chief. Ballasteros thought the moment favourable for an open bid for the dictatorship. Instead of obeying the orders sent, he issued on October 23rd a manifesto directed to the Regency, in which he declared that Wellington’s appointment to supreme power was an insult to the Spanish nation, and especially to the Spanish Army. He openly contemned the decree, as dishonourable and debasing—Spaniards should never become like Portuguese the servants of the foreigner. If—what he could not believe—the national army and the nation itself should ratify such an appointment, he himself would throw up his post and retire to his home. At the same time there was an outburst of pamphlets and newspaper articles inspired by him, stating that England was to be feared as an oppressor no less than France; and all sorts of absurd rumours were put about as to the intentions of the British Government and the servility of the Cortes.

Ballasteros, however, had altogether mistaken his own importance and popularity: budding Bonapartes must be able to rely on their own troops, and he—as the event showed—could not. The Cortes took prompt measures for his suppression: one Colonel Rivera, a well-known Liberal, was sent secretly to Granada to bear to Virues, the second in command of the 4th Army, orders to arrest his chief, and place him in confinement. And this was done without any difficulty, so unfounded was the confidence which Ballasteros had placed in his omnipotence with the army. Virues and the Prince of Anglona, his two divisional generals, carried out the arrest in the simplest fashion. On the morning of October 30th they ordered out their troops for a field day on the Alcalá road, save a battalion of the Spanish Guards, who had not belonged to Ballasteros’s old army, and had no affection for him. This regiment surrounded his residence, and when he issued out the picquet refused him passage, and Colonel Rivera presented him with the warrant for his arrest. There was some little stir in Granada among the civil population, but the army made no movement when Virues read the decree of the Cortes to them. Before he well understood what had happened, Ballasteros was on his way under a guard to the African fortress of Ceuta. He was afterwards given Fregenal in Estremadura as the place of his detention.

But all this happened on October 30th, and meanwhile the Army of Andalusia had remained motionless, though Wellington had believed that it had marched for La Mancha as early as October 5th[78]. Nearly a month had been lost by Ballasteros’s perversity, and when he was finally arrested and his troops became available, it was too late; for Hill had been forced to retreat, and Madrid was about to fall into the hands of the French, who had advanced through La Mancha unmolested. The Fourth Army was put under the command of the Duke del Parque, the victor of Tamames, but the vanquished of Alba de Tormes in the campaign of 1809. It marched early in November to its appointed position at Alcaraz; but it was of no use to have it there when the enemy had changed all his positions, and had driven Hill beyond the Guadarrama into the valley of the Douro.

Wellington’s arrangements for the defence of Madrid were therefore insufficient as the event proved, for three reasons. The diversion from Alicante was too weak—Suchet alone was able to keep Maitland in check. The main Spanish force which was to have co-operated with Hill never put in an appearance, thanks to the disloyal perversity of its general. And, thirdly, the autumn rains, which had so incommoded Wellington before Burgos, turned out to be late and scanty in New Castile. The Tagus and its affluents remained low and fordable almost everywhere.

As late as the 17th October Wellington had no fears about Hill’s position. The probability that the enemy from Valencia would advance upon Madrid, as he wrote on that morning, seemed diminishing day by day—reinforcements were coming up from the South to Hill, and Ballasteros was believed to be already posted in La Mancha, ‘which renders the enemy’s movement upon the Tagus very improbable[79].’ On the 19th, when his last assault on the Castle of Burgos had just been beaten off, and he was thinking of retreat, came much less satisfactory news from Hill. The enemy seemed to be drawing together: they had laid siege to the Castle of Chinchilla, and it was not impossible that they were aiming at Madrid, perhaps only with a view of forcing the abandonment of the siege of Burgos, perhaps with serious offensive intention. If so, Wellington might be caught with not one but both of the halves of his army exposed to immediate attack by a superior enemy, who was just assuming the offensive. And the total force of the French was appalling—50,000 men on the Northern field of operations, 60,000 on the other—while the united strength of all the available troops under Wellington’s orders was about 80,000, of whom 25,000 were Spaniards, whose previous record was not in many cases reassuring. He had often warned the ministers at home that if the French evacuated outlying provinces, and collected in great masses, they were too many for him[80]. But that ever-possible event had been so long delayed, that Wellington had gone on, with a healthy and cheerful opportunism, facing the actual situation of affairs without taking too much thought for the morrow. Now the conjunction least to be desired appeared to be at length coming into practical existence and it remained to be seen what could be done.

As for his own army, there was no doubt that prompt retreat, first beyond the Pisuerga, then beyond the Douro, was necessary. Souham had already made his first preliminary forward movement. On the evening of October 18th a strong advance guard, consisting of a brigade of Maucune’s division, pushed in upon the front of the allied army at the village of Santa Olalla, and surprised there the outlying picket of an officer and thirty men of the Brunswick-Oels, who were nearly all taken prisoners. The heights above this place commanded the town of Monasterio, wherefore Wellington directed it to be evacuated, and drew in its line to a position slightly nearer Burgos, for it was clear that there were heavy forces behind the brigade which had formed the French attacking force[81].

On the 19th he was in order of battle with all his army except the troops left before Burgos—Pack’s Portuguese, a brigade of the 6th Division, and three weak battalions from the 1st Division. The position extended from Ibeas on the Arlanzon, through Riobena to Soto Palacios, and was manned by the 1st, 5th, and 7th Divisions, two brigades of the 6th, Bradford’s Portuguese, Castaños’s Galicians, and all the cavalry—about 30,000 men. Wellington expected to be attacked on the 20th, and was not prepared to give back till he had ascertained what force was in his front. He knew that the Army of Portugal had been reinforced, but was not sure whether the report that Caffarelli had come up with a large portion of the Army of the North was correct or no.