But the really important thing to note about this little affair is that it absorbed three French divisions for sixteen days in the most critical month of 1813. Eleven thousand men were tied down in a remote corner of Biscay, before a patched-up mediaeval wall, while Longa was running riot in Alava and breaking the line of communication with France—and (what is more important) while Wellington’s columns were silently gliding into place for the great stroke on the Douro. Colonel Alvarez could boast that his thousand men had served a very useful and honourable end during the great campaign. He and they were landed by Captain Bloye at Bermeo, and went off over the hills to join Longa: the majority of them must have been present at the battle of Vittoria, some six weeks after their escape by sea.
Having discharged the first duty set him by Clausel, Foy left the Italians at Castro, to guard the coast and keep up communications with Santoña. He sent Sarrut southward to hunt for Longa, by way of Orduña; but the Spaniard crossed the Ebro and moved into the province of Burgos, evading pursuit. Then, finding that Lamartinière’s division was guarding the great road in this direction, he turned off north-westward, and escaped by Espinosa to the mountains of Santander. Sarrut, having lost him, turned back to Biscay.
Meanwhile Foy himself, after retiring to Bilbao to give a few days of rest to his division, started out again on May 27th for a circular tour in Biscay. His object was to destroy the three Biscayan volunteer battalions which had given his predecessor so much trouble. Two he dispersed, but could not destroy, and they ultimately got together again in somewhat diminished numbers. The third was more unlucky: caught between three converging columns near Lequeytio, it was driven against the seashore and nearly annihilated—360 men were taken, 200 killed, only two companies got off into the hills (May 30th). But to achieve this result Foy had collected three brigades—5,000 men—who would have been better employed that day on the Esla, for Wellington was crossing that river at the moment—and where were the infantry of the Army of Portugal, who should have stood in his way?
So while the British Army was streaming by tens of thousands into the undefended plains of Leon, Foy and Sarrut were guerrillero-hunting in Biscay, and Taupin and Barbot had just failed in the great chase after Mina in Aragon and Navarre. Such were the results of the Emperor’s orders for the pacification of the North.
SECTION XXXV: CHAPTER VI
AN EPISODE ON THE EAST COAST.
CASTALLA, APRIL 1813
During the winter months, from November to February, affairs had been quiet on the Mediterranean side of the Peninsula. The transient sojourn of the Armies of Soult and King Joseph in the kingdom of Valencia, which had so much troubled the mind of General Maitland, had lasted no more than a few weeks. After they had marched off to retake Madrid, no traces remained of them, in the end of October, save the mass of sick, convalescents, and Spanish refugees which they had left behind—guests most undesired—in charge of Suchet. There was no longer any fear of a siege of Alicante, or of the expulsion of the Anglo-Sicilian expeditionary corps from Spain.
When the shadow of this fear had passed, the Allied forces resumed something like their old position. The Anglo-Sicilians had passed under many commanders since the autumn: Maitland had resigned owing to ill-health before October 1st: he was succeeded for six weeks by John Mackenzie, the senior Major-General at Alicante, who was superseded about November 20th by William Clinton (brother of Henry Clinton of the 6th Division). But Clinton was only in charge of the expeditionary force for twelve days, being out-ranked by James Campbell, Adjutant-General of the Army of Sicily, who turned up with a large body of reinforcements on December 2nd. Campbell, however, only bore rule at Alicante for a period of three months, giving place to Sir John Murray on February 25th. It was therefore on the last-named officer that the stress of co-operating with Wellington in the campaign of 1813 was to fall. The unlucky man was quite unequal to the position, being singularly infirm of purpose and liable to lose his head at critical moments, as he had shown at Oporto on May 12th, 1809[398]. It is surprising that Wellington, knowing his record, should have acquiesced in the appointment—perhaps he thought that here at least was a general who would take no risks, and have no dangerous inspirations of initiative.