The weather was desperate—rain fell in torrents—the roads were rendered almost impassable—the men were knee-deep in the sloughs—and the transport of the guns and baggage had become a work of infinite difficulty. The imposing steadiness with which the British rear-guard retired before the French advance, checked any attempt that Soult might have entertained of pressing the retreat so closely as to bring Lord Wellington to action, and especially on ground that he himself would not select, on which to make a stand. Ciudad Rodrigo was gained on the 18th, and the frontier crossed upon the 20th. The 17th had passed in continued demonstrations of attack, and frequent skirmishes. Not daring to assail the columns, every advantage that a wooded country would permit, was seized upon to cut off stragglers and secure baggage. In many attempts on both, the enemy were successful; and a British general of division, Sir Edward Paget, was carried off while literally in the centre of his own brigades.
The main body of the allies had already crossed the Huebra, when the French infantry and artillery came up in force, and obliged the cavalry to cross the fords—and a delay in retiring the light division from the position they had been placed in on the edge of the forest, brought on a sharp affair. The British, however, effected the passage of the river with inconsiderable loss—and every effort the French made to carry the fords failed owing to the steadiness with which they were defended. The firing was kept up till dark—and although the light and seventh divisions were exposed in column to a plunging fire from thirty guns, their loss was miraculously small, as “this clayey soil, saturated with rain, swallowed the shot and smothered the shells.”[211]
On the 18th, the retreat was continued—Lord Wellington having given the necessary directions as to the line of march which the different divisions of his army should pursue—his orders were disobeyed—and serious results had nearly been occasioned. Happily, his lordship discovered the irregularity of his subordinate officers in time to avert disastrous consequences. The retreating brigades were completely arrested by a flooded river—and with great difficulty were extricated, from what would have been, very shortly, a desperate and hopeless position. Indeed, so critically were they situated, that the light division, composing the rear-guard, were obliged to cross a gulley by single files, effecting the passage by means of a fallen tree.[212]
Here the retreat virtually closed. The weather improved; and having fallen back upon his resources, Lord Wellington was enabled to recruit his exhausted soldiery. Abundant fuel, dry bivouacs, and plentiful rations, produced a speedy change; and men wearied and worn down by privations and incessant fatigue, rapidly recovered their health and spirits. The moment the enemy had abandoned the pursuit, the light cavalry and guerilla horse were despatched to scour the woods, and rescue such sufferers as survived. Their efforts were attended with success—and more than fifteen hundred wounded or disabled men were brought into the hospitals and saved.
The total casualties sustained by the troops during the siege and subsequent retreat of Burgos, were very numerous—and in no point are military writers and official returns more at variance, than in the respective estimates they form of the losses of the allies. Where such immense discrepancy exists, it is hard to come to any thing like an accurate conclusion. The French asserted that the allies lost twelve thousand men, hors de combat; the English reduced it to little more than twelve hundred. Between these extremes, the mean is more likely to prove correct; and there can be little doubt, all casualties included, that in the siege and subsequent operations to the 29th of October, seven thousand men were sacrificed.[213]
The retreat from Burgos was not only remarkable for the sufferings they endured, but also for the insubordination exhibited by the soldiery. The mass of the army became drunkards and marauders. The wine-stores in the towns and villages on the line of march were broken into and despoiled of their contents; and multitudes, through inebriety, either perished or were made prisoners. In Valderoso alone, two hundred and fifty men were left drunk in the cellars—and, of course, they fell into the hands of the French. Drunkenness produced cruelty—and many of the peasantry hitherto well affected to the allies,[214] perished by the hands of infuriated savages, who seemed reckless whether friend or foe became the victim of their ferocity. Napier says, that on the first day’s march from Madrid, he reckoned seventeen murdered peasants, either lying on the road or thrown into the ditches.
Another mischievous breach of discipline had become very general. Numerous herds of swine were found among the woods—and the soldiers broke from their columns, and commenced shooting pigs wherever they could be found. The spattering fire kept up in the forest by these marauders, frequently occasioned an unnecessary alarm, and thus disturbed the brief space allowed for rest to the exhausted soldiers. Nothing but the greatest severity checked this most dangerous offence—and though some of the delinquents, when taken “red-handed” and in the very fact, were hanged in the sight of their guilty comrades, the evil was but partially abated by the example; for hunger had made the starving soldiery indifferent to the desperate consequences their offending was certain to draw down.
The excesses committed during the retreat, drew from Lord Wellington an official letter, addressed to the commanding officers of regiments, that occasioned at the time considerable dissatisfaction.[215] Probably, the terms in which his censure was conveyed, were stronger than they should have been. The sufferings of the troops were great beyond belief—men marching night and day, under an incessant deluge, knee-deep in mire, without shelter or a place to rest upon, their whole sustenance a scanty ration of over-driven beef, frequently devoured half-raw—all these should have been well considered—and while the soldiery could not be justified in acts of violence and rapine, still they might urge much in extenuation of crimes committed under the influence of want, misery and despair![216]
Honours, in the mean time, were conferred upon the able, but unsuccessful besieger of Burgos. At home, Lord Wellington was advanced to a Marquisate in the peerage, while Parliament added 100,000l. to assist him to support this dignity. He was also appointed to the Colonelcy of the Blues—while the rank of Duke of Vitoria was conferred upon him by the Prince Regent of Portugal, with emoluments attached to it valued at 15,000 dollars annually. The honour bestowed upon him the Marquis of Wellington accepted—but the income, with becoming dignity, he respectfully declined.
After the French retired behind the Tormes, the allies took up their winter cantonments. Hill passed the Sierra de Gata, and established his corps in the province of Coria, with posts at the passes of Bejar and Banos. The remaining divisions were comfortably disposed of—part of the brigades occupying quarters in the district of Beira, while the others were cantoned upon the banks of the Douro.