King Joseph had been driven out of Madrid, was now at Vittoria, and the insurgents controlled the country with the exception of the soil occupied by the French armies.
Losing no time after the Erfurth interview, Napoleon hastened to Spain, took command of the troops at Vittoria (November 5, 1808), and moved forward. In a few days the entire military situation was changed. The Spaniards were out-generalled, beaten at all points, and escaped complete annihilation by the too great haste of some of the French generals. Within four weeks after the commencement of the campaign, Madrid was retaken, and once more put into the possession of the feeble Joseph.
On his march to the Spanish capital, Napoleon found his road blocked at the mountain pass of Sommo-Sierra. The insurgents had fortified the heights, their cannon completely controlling the defile. So strong was the position that a handful of veterans there might have checked an army.
But the impudence of these Spanish bands in presuming to resist his march threw Napoleon into a fury. He would not wait till his infantry could advance upon either side, turn the enemy, and almost certainly secure a bloodless victory. He raged and stormed, “What! my army stopped by armed bands, wretched peasants!”
“Patience, sire, I pray,” pleaded General Walthour, who assured him that in a few minutes the pass would be cleared by infantry, which was even then advancing on either side. But no; the enemy must be charged with cavalry—a bristling battery, on the crest of a mountain gorge, must be swept out of the way by a cavalry dash.
“Go, Ségur! Go at once; make my Poles charge, make them take everything!”
There was astonishment—but the order had to be obeyed. At full speed the splendid soldiers of the Polish squadron dashed up the pass, to melt away in an awful fire from the battery above. Historians say that the cavalry charge succeeded. Ségur, who led the dash and was shot down in it, relates that the flanking infantry columns did the work.
“Does anybody know how Ségur came to be hurt? Was he carrying an order?” Napoleon asked, after the battle.
When reminded that he had himself given Ségur the order, he was silent, and “fell into a very thoughtful mood.”
An English army under Sir John Moore had entered Spain and was advancing toward Madrid. When it learned that Napoleon was in the field, it began a retreat to the coast, which is famous in military history. The French, led by the Emperor, set out in hot pursuit; and it would be hard to say with certainty which party suffered the more frightful hardships,—the pursuers or the pursued. The weather was bitterly cold, with cutting winds, chilly rains, blinding snowstorms. In crossing the Gaudamara Mountains the storm was so fierce, the cold and the snow so terrible, that the advance guard of Napoleon actually began to retreat. It required all the Emperor’s personal influence and example to encourage the men onwards. Dismounting, he trudged along on foot, Lannes and Duroc on either side, and hour after hour he plodded thus through the snow, up the mountain, at the head of his men. Near the summit, on account of the jackboots the officers wore, they could go no farther. Napoleon was lifted on to a gun carriage, and riding on a cannon, he reached the top, his generals similarly mounted. By forced marches the French were pushed on in the hope of cutting off the English retreat, but it could not be done. Horribly as they suffered, the English were not wholly demoralized. There were always some gallant thousands who would turn and fight when the French pressed them too hard. In this way the pursuers met bloody repulses. Many frightful scenes took place among the English; but General Marbot relates an incident of the French pursuit which throws a vivid light over the hideous character of this whole campaign. He saw three French grenadiers kill themselves because they were tired out, could no longer keep up, and chose death rather than the tortures which awaited them if they fell into the hands of the Spanish peasants.