"Let blusterin' Suchet crously crack,
Let Joseph rin the coward's track,
Let Jourdan wish the bâton back
He left upon Vittoria.
If e'er they meet their worthy king,
Let them dance roun' him in a ring,
And some Scottish piper play the spring
He blew them at Vittoria.
Peace to the spirits of the brave,
Let a' their trophies for them wave,
And green be our Cadogan's grave
Upon thy field, Vittoria."
Scottish Song.
In the long interval of time during which Lord Wellington's army remained cantoned on the Spanish frontier, no hostilities took place saving General Foy's fruitless attack upon Bejar, and the defeat of the French under General Frimont in the vale of Sedano, near Burgos. During the winter, supplies of every kind,—pay in some instances excepted,—arrived from Britain, to refit the army and enable it to take the field, which it did in an efficient state in the month of May, 1813.
During the long residence of the Gordon Highlanders in the valley of Banos, they had become quite domesticated among its inhabitants; and it was a daily occurrence to see them assisting in household matters,—working with the men in the gardens and vineyards, or carrying about in their arms the little children of the patrona on whom they were quartered; and before the battalion departed, the venerable cura, had wedded, for weal or woe, several of the olive-cheeked maidens of the valley to men who wore the garb of old Gaul.
On the 13th of May the corps marched from Banos, and the entire population of the secluded vale accompanied them to the end of the pass, and watched them until the notes of the war-pipes died away in the wind, and the last bayonet gave a farewell flash in the sun-light as the rear-guard descended the mountains towards the plain of Bejar, where Sir Rowland Hill mustered and reviewed the gathering brigades of his division.
The troops presented a very different appearance now from the way-worn, ragged, and shoeless band which, in the close of the last year, had retired from Burgos. Fresh drafts of hale and plump British recruits had filled up the vacancies caused by wounds, starvation, and disease; and a few months in quarters had restored the survivors to health and strength: the new clothing had completely renovated their appearance, and all were in high spirits, and eager again to behold their old acquaintances, Messieurs the French. Sir Rowland complimented Fassifern on the appearance of his Highlanders, who cocked their plumes more gaily now than ever, as they marched past to "the garb of old Gaul." Truly, new scarlet jackets, Paisley tartan, and bonnets from "skull-cleeding Kilmarnock," had wrought a wonderful change upon their ranks.
Although the Duke of Dalmatia and many battalions of French had been ordered into Germany, Buonaparte's army in Spain still mustered 160,000 strong. King Joseph, at the head of 70,000 men, kept his head-quarters at Madrid; the rest were scattered through the eastern provinces, under Suchet and other commanders. It was determined by the British and Spanish governments to make one grand and determined effort to drive the French across the Pyrenees, on again taking the field against them. An efficient train of pontoons was fitted out to assist in crossing those deep and rapid rivers by which Spain is so much intersected. Every thing which would tend to the comfort of troops on service had been provided; and the army in the end of May, as I have before stated, commenced offensive measures against the enemy.
Lord Wellington, with the light division, moved on Salamanca; Sir Thomas Graham crossed the Douro, with orders to move on Braganza, Zamora, and Tras-os-montes, and to form a junction with the allies at Valladolid; while Sir Rowland Hill, from Estremadura, was to march on the same point by Alba de Tormes. By these movements the allies turned that position on the Douro which the French generals had resolved to defend; and so rapid was their march, that General Villatte, who occupied Salamanca with three thousand men, had barely time to effect a retreat, with the loss of two hundred, and a few pieces of artillery. The able Wellington, after placing the right and centre divisions in cantonments between the Douro and Tormes, joined Sir Thomas Graham, whose troops, after encountering many difficulties in crossing rivers, ravines, and mountains, over which they had to drag their heavy artillery and pontoons, took up a position on the left, in communication with the Spanish army of Galicia under General Castanos.
The French, who were utterly unprepared for these rapid movements, retired precipitately, destroying in their retreat the bridges at Toro and Zamora; and the combined army now directed its march in triumph on Valladolid, one of the finest cities of Old Castile, and one which might be styled a city of convents, as it contains no fewer than seventy,—one of them the palace of Philip IV. Crossing Escueva, the allies continued to press impetuously forward, and the enemy to retire unresistingly before them. Joseph abandoned Madrid, concentrated the French legions around the castle of Burgos, which he blew up on the 13th of June, and with his whole force retired under the cloud of night towards the Ebro, the passage of which his generals made every preparation to defend. But again he and they were signally baffled by the skill, talent, and penetration of Wellington, who moving his troops by the San Andero road, crossed the river near its source at Puente de Arenas and San Martino, a measure which so disconcerted the plans of Joseph and Marshal Jourdan, that they were again compelled to retreat, and the allied army continued its march to Vittoria.
On the 20th of June the second division encamped on the plain of Puebla, near Vittoria. The first brigade was then commanded by the Hon. William Stuart (a brother of the Earl of Galloway) a true and gallant soldier of the old school, whose valuable services received no requital from his country.
The time had now arrived when Joseph was compelled to make a final and determined stand in defence of the crown he had usurped, or behold it torn ingloriously from his brow, and on the very ground where Edward the Black Prince, on the 3rd of April, 1367, totally defeated another intruder on the Spanish soil—Henry the Bastard, and restored Don Pedro to the crown of Castile.[*] The time was likewise arrived when the legions of France, whose movements since the commencement of the campaign had been a series of retreats, should make a decisive effort to renew their fading laurels, or by being driven disgracefully across the Pyrenees, lose for ever that hard-earned fame which they won under the banners of the great Emperor.