The arrangement of our troops was inimitable; years could not have improved it. Our right had been fairly turned since the 20th; the army were presenting a new front, so that the first or last, whichever it may be termed, of military movements was to be effected, that is for the contending armies to change places. The French could not attack our left that day; if they had, the right of their army must have been either surrounded or cut to pieces. The third division would have hung on their flank, the light division would have engaged them in front, the masses behind the Table Mountain could have debouched on either side, while our cavalry, artillery, and the rest of the army, could have moved forward, and attacked the left of the French in the plain, which must have advanced to support such a movement. The Table Mountain is the mark of the French marshal's discomfiture. Military men say the French ought to have taken possession of it: but was their army up and strong enough to maintain it? The advance of the enemy at six o'clock in the morning was not that of their whole force: I should say, that it was merely a reconnaissance; half a dozen squadrons of cavalry and a division of infantry must not be taken for a whole army. Nor had the French soldiers wings; for in justice to them, more could not have been done by legs. The Duke of Ragusa might have had his army in hand, and could have placed a corps of observation where his centre stood; then towards evening manœuvred with his main body at a greater distance from our right flank, and threatened to cut us off from Rodrigo, (and thereby change positions with us) until nightfall; at the same time keeping his communications open with Alba de Tormes, in the event of his not deeming it advisable to follow up such a movement the next day. At all events, the French general would have gained time, which was precious to him, as reinforcements were on the road to join him. The fact was, the French marshal was completely out-generalled: the Table Mountain puzzled him; and the third division descending from Cabrerizos at twelve o'clock, and raising clouds of dust as they passed along the rear of our army[37], caused the Duke of Ragusa to imagine that we were drawing off, which I am confident led him to take hasty measures, forgetting that he had been manœuvring only on blank ground the four previous days. The Earl of Wellington saw his over haste and his error; knowing that to support such an extension of the left, the enemy ought to have advanced in force on the village of the Arapiles, or that they must expose their left to a flank attack, which they did. On the other hand, had they advanced towards the Arapiles in the plain in force, our right and centre would have become engaged, and the troops concealed behind the Table Mountain could have debouched, and hovered on their right flank.
This was the first general action fought on the Peninsula, where the Earl of Wellington attacked; which led the French marshal still farther from his reckoning. The General-in-Chief, of course, did not wish to fritter away his army in useless skirmishes, and therefore only waited for a fit moment to bring it fairly in contact with the enemy, to finish well when once commenced; and as the Duke of Ragusa brought himself to action within the precincts of Salamanca, the advantage was ours, the wounded soldiers having speedy assistance, while those of the enemy who managed to drag themselves far from the field, endured the most distressing privations. The French were formed on the heights behind the village of the Arapiles, with an extensive forest in their rear.
The field of battle generally was composed of light sand, with a few straggling blades of parched grass. A very light breeze blew towards the French, which gave them the benefit of the clouds of dust and the volumes of smoke arising from the immense masses in motion, notwithstanding the heavy rain on the preceding night. Near one p. m. the third division were passing in rear of ours. I was strolling about, here and there coming across a dead or wounded soldier of those who had fallen in the morning, when a Portuguese caught my attention. He was resting on his elbows with his legs extended, suffering indescribable pain from a wound in his stomach; his face pale, his lips discoloured, and stifled groans issuing from his nearly lifeless body, while an almost tropical sun was shining on his uncovered head.
Soon after the third division had reached its destination, a column of French descended a hill en masse on our extreme right, towards the village of Miranda. Three eighteen-pounders opened on them, which took full effect, and spoiled their regularity. The enemy hesitated, while the discharges of our heavy ordnance were overthrowing all opposition. They went to the right-about to get out of range. Our columns, formed behind the Table Mountain, now debouched in double time, showing the French Marshal that the long-expected crisis was at hand. A sharp fire of musketry opened on some companies of the seventh fusileers, supported by the light companies of the foot guards, as they broke through the village of the Arapiles at half-past two. The third division had already brought up their right shoulders, and were pushing on very successfully, when the enemy's horse furiously charged the grenadiers and right of the 5th regiment, while advancing in line, which they repulsed and continued their movement. The fire gradually increasing, at half-past four the armies were well in contact. The musketry rolled without intermission, only interrupted by the still louder artillery. The fourth division, breathless, amidst showers of grape, musketry, and round-shot, had succeeded in planting their standards on the crest of the enemy's position; but at that moment a French division, in close column, and at a run, with fixed bayonets, forced them down the hill, whilst others advanced on their left flank, which was exposed, and carried the centre of the battle again into the valley; but our heavy cavalry, in the right centre, were bearing down all opposition, driving the left of the enemy before them, and putting them into the greatest confusion. Major-General Le Marchant was killed heading this charge. Marshal Beresford[38], Generals Leith, Cole, and Alten, were wounded. On the part of the French that fell, were the Duke of Ragusa, Generals Fercy, Thomieres, Desgraviers, Bonnet, Clausel, and Menne, besides their losing numerous prisoners, standards, and cannon. At six the battle was at the height—no cessation of musketry, and the cannon of both armies thundering away as if there were to be no end of it. The columns of smoke and dust were rolling up in dense volumes, so that the atmosphere became dark above the bloody scene; yet there was not a cloud to be descried, except those which arose from the battle. A Spanish peasant was looking on with his arms folded; I heard him exclaim, "Que grandisimo mundo![39]"
The inhabitants of Salamanca were crowding the places of public worship, to offer up prayers for the success of our arms. Apropos, it was Sunday.
At half-past six, a brigade of Portuguese guns opened on the enemy, in front of our division. At seven, the Prince of Orange, one of the General-in-Chief's aides-de-camp rode up, and ordered our division to move on the left to attack. We moved towards the Table Mountain, right brigade in front, in open column; having passed it, we then closed to column of quarter distance. The enemy's skirmishers soon advanced, and opened a brisk fire. The shades of evening now approached, and the flashes of cannon and small arms in the centre and on the heights were still vivid, while the enemy were making their last struggle for victory. An English officer of General Pack's brigade passed us, covered with dust and perspiration; he complained of the rough usage of the French. They allowed the Portuguese to approach nearly to the summit of the point of attack, then charged them, and used the bayonet without remorse, taking that part of the field under their especial protection.
The enemy's light infantry increased, and retired very deliberately; the ascent was gentle. The first brigade deployed, supported by the second; the first division was marching in reserve.
Our skirmishers were obliged to give ground to the obstinacy of the enemy; and nearly ceased firing. The line marched over them, dead and alive.
Appearances indicated a severe fight, for we were near the enemy's reserves. The Earl of Wellington was within fifty yards of the front, when the adverse lines commenced firing. The General-in-Chief ordered us to halt within two hundred yards of the enemy. They gave us two volleys with cheers, while our cavalry galloped forward to threaten their right flank. At this time I heard that a musket-ball had perforated the Earl's cloak, folded in front of his saddle. As we were about to charge, the enemy disappeared, not being in sufficient force to withstand the attack. This advance was beautifully executed.