The morning of the 24th was obscured by a dense fog;—a brisk firing was heard beyond the river, but it was impossible to ascertain, from the thickness of the atmosphere, in what numbers the French movement was being made. At last the sun broke out, and Bock’s heavy dragoons were seen retiring before a division which Marmont had thrown across the Tormes before daylight. Directly, the 1st and 7th divisions were sent to support the cavalry. The French hesitated to attack,—manœuvred until evening,—then repassed the river, and bivouacked on the ground they had quitted in the morning.
A quiet day succeeded. A supply of ammunition for the breaching batteries had arrived from Almeida, a spirited cannonade ensued, the British guns firing on San Vicente with hot shot. The inflammable materials with which the fort was built could not endure this destructive cannonade. The square tower was speedily in a blaze—and in a brief space of time it was totally consumed, while during the night the outworks were frequently on fire, and at ten o’clock next morning the whole convent was in flames. A breach had been made in the gorge of Cayetano, and the troops formed for the assault, when a white flag from the forts and redoubt announced that the garrisons of both would treat for a surrender. But delay appeared the chief object of the French commandant. Three hours were required by him before he should capitulate, and five minutes was the brief space that would be granted by the besiegers, and when that time elapsed the storming parties rushed forward,—the bastions were carried with feeble resistance, and San Vicente with trifling loss. Thirty-six pieces of cannon, seven hundred prisoners, and a quantity of stores and clothing, fell into the hands of the victors, who had lost some valuable officers and four hundred and fifty men before these well-defended works.
At midnight Marmont commenced retiring,—and when day broke, his columns were in full march, and his rear-guard quitting its ground. The French set fire to the villages they had occupied, leaving behind them an exhausted country and an exasperated people. Nothing, indeed, could exceed the deadly hatred that actuated the peasantry against their oppressors, while the friendliest feelings were manifested towards the British, who were by every class regarded as deliverers. In Salamanca all was triumph and festivity. High mass was celebrated in the cathedral,[183] a grand dinner given by the commander of the allies, and a ball by the Junta in the evening was attended by the noblesse of the city, and witnessed the beauty of Spain united to the chivalry of Britain.
Marmont retired by Tora and Tordesillas on the Douro, and the allies, following his line of march, bivouacked on the Guarena. The French marshal frequently made demonstrations as if he intended to make a stand; but aware that he should soon possess a numerical superiority over his able opponent, he only manœuvred to gain time, while leisurely falling back upon the line of the Douro, of which he possessed the whole command. This gave the French marshal an immense advantage over his antagonist. He held the bridges, and of course had the means of crossing when he pleased—while on the whole river from the mouth of the Pisuerga to Zamora, the ford of Castro Nuno, three leagues above Toro, was the only point by which an army could be passed over in the presence of an enemy.
If the French marshal had this admitted advantage on his side, in the possession of the line of the Douro, he had certainly other difficulties to embarrass him. The guerillas were in force on his flanks and in his rear, intercepting his convoys, and giving full occupation to a part of his corps that were required for a different service. These irregular bands were incessantly on the alert, crippling his resources, and cutting off stragglers and supplies. Sormel and Bombon were on his right; Julian Sanchez on the left; Porlier disturbed the country between him and the Asturias; and Mina and Duran infested Navarre and Aragon. No wonder that Marmont awaited Bonnet’s junction, with a portion of the army of the north, with great anxiety. It was effected safely, and the Duke of Ragusa was now numerically superior to his rival, the entire French corps d’armée, amounting to forty-seven thousand men.
This increase of strength, when united to other considerations, induced Wellington to decide on falling back towards the frontier of Portugal. His military chest was nearly exhausted—supplies must be exacted, after the iniquitous system of the French, or the army subjected to privations; and the very difficulty he must have found in removing his wounded to the frontier, in the event of a hostile collision, would have been quite sufficient to deter a cautious general, and one so particular in attention to his troops when disabled, from courting a battle on the banks of the Douro.
Marmont lost no time in concentrating between Toro and San Roman. He passed the river on the evening of the 16th, while Wellington moved the allies to Canizal and Fuente le Pena. This was, however, a feint on the French marshal’s part. At night he recrossed the Douro, made a rapid movement on Tordesillas, passed the river there, and early on the 18th reached the Trebancos, after marching forty miles. This movement was well designed and ably executed. By it Marmont had placed himself in direct communication with the army of the Centre, then moving from the capital to his support—while an advance to Castrejon, endangered Anson’s brigade of cavalry, and the fourth and light divisions.
As morning broke, the outlying pickets in front of Castrejon were alarmed by a distant firing, which momently became louder and more sustained. Presently Bock’s brigade were observed retiring before the enemy’s dragoons and light artillery. The British retreated by scattered squadrons, and thus avoided the certain loss that a cannonade would occasion cavalry retiring in dense masses. The infantry fell back in perfect order—and though severely pressed by the French divisions, threatened by the dragoons, and occasionally under a fire of forty guns, reached the Guarena with trifling loss.[184]
The bed of the river was nearly dry, but the troops found its scanty waters a luxury above price, after a ten miles’ march at times over vast corn-fields reaching above the knee, and under a vertical sun, whose heat was most oppressive. The retreat was resumed again, when the French cavalry galloped up a hill commanding the line of march, with the intention of holding the division in check, until the infantry could overtake and bring it to action. But the British had neared their reserves, and, tired of retreating, halted and shewed front. A French brigade accepted the challenge, and advanced instantly to the attack. The 27th and 40th regiments, led on by General Cole, threw in a close volley, cheered, and crossed bayonets; the enemy broke, the English cavalry galloped in—and a general (Carrier), one gun, and three hundred prisoners, were captured in the charge. The allied loss in the different affairs of the 18th amounted to five hundred hors de combat.
That night, the allied troops halted on the Guarena, their right extending beyond Canizal, and the left resting on Castrillo, while the French bivouacked on the opposite side of the valley. Fires blazed along the lines of either army, and the outposts lay so near each other “that the fixed sentinels almost received the secret whispers of each other’s watch.”