History of the war in the Peninsula and in the south of France from the year 1807 to the year 1814, vol. 4

by William Francis Patrick Napier

But it is not in the details of this siege we must look for Wellington’s merits. The apportioning of the number of guns, the quantity of ammunition, the amount of transport, the tracing of the works, and the choice of the points of attack, are matters within the province of the engineer; the value and importance of the place to be attacked in reference to other objects of the campaign, the time that can be spared to effect its reduction, the arrangements necessary to elude or to resist the succouring army, the calculation of the resources, from whence the means of attack are to be drawn, these are in the province of the general. With him also rests the choice of shortening the scientific process, and the judging of how much or how little ought to be risked, how much trusted to the valour and discipline of his army, how much to his own genius for seizing accidents, whether of ground, of time, or of conjunction to accelerate the gain of his object.

Now all armies come to the siege of a town with great advantages; for first the besieged cannot but be less confident than the assailants; they are a few against a many, and being on the defensive, are also an excised portion of their own army, and without news, which damps the fiery spirit. They are obliged to await their adversary’s time and attack, their losses seem more numerous, in proportion to their forces, because they are more concentrated, and then the wounded are not safe even in the hospitals. No troops can hope to maintain a fortress eventually, without the aid of a succouring army; their ultimate prospect is death or captivity. The besiegers on the contrary have a certain retreat, know the real state of affairs, feel more assured of their object, have hope of profit, and a secure retreat if they fail, while the besieged faintly look for succour, and scarcely expect life. To this may be added that the inhabitants are generally secret enemies of the garrison as the cause of their own sufferings.

The number of guns and quantity of ammunition, in a fortress, are daily diminished; the besiegers’ means, originally calculated to overpower the other, may be increased. Time and materials are therefore against the besieged, and the scientific foundation of the defence depends on the attack which may be varied, while the other is fixed. Finally the firmness and skill of the defence generally depends upon the governor, who may be killed, whereas many officers amongst the besiegers are capable of conducting the attack; and the general, besides being personally less exposed, is likely, as the chief of an army, to be a man of more spirit and capacity than a simple governor. It follows then that fortresses must fall if the besiegers sit down before them according to the rules of art; and when no succouring army is nigh, the time, necessary to reduce any place, may be calculated with great exactness. When these rules cannot be attended to, when every thing is irregular and doubtful, when the general is hurried on to the attempt, be it easy or difficult, by the force of circumstances, we must measure him by the greatness of the exigency, and the energy with which he acts.

This is the light in which to view the siege of Badajos. Wellington’s object was great, his difficulties foreseen, his success complete. A few hours’ delay, an accident, a turn of fortune, and he would again have been foiled! aye! but this is war, always dangerous and uncertain, an ever-rolling wheel and armed with scythes. Was the object worth the risk—did its gain compensate the loss of men—was it boldly, greatly acquired? These are the true questions and they may be answered thus. Suchet had subjugated Aragon by his mildness, Catalonia and Valencia by his vigour. In Andalusia, Soult had tranquillized the mass of the people, and his genius, solid and vast, was laying the deep foundation of a kingdom close to Portugal. He was forming such great establishments, and contriving such plans, as would, if permitted to become ripe, have enabled him to hold the Peninsula, alone, should the French armies fail in all other parts. In the centre of Spain the king, true to his plan of raising a Spanish party, was likely to rally round him all those of the patriots whom discontent, or weakness of mind, or corruption, might induce to seek a plausible excuse, for joining the invaders; and on the northern line the French armies, still powerful, were strengthening their hold of the country by fortifying all the important points of Leon and Old Castile. Meanwhile the great army, which the emperor was carrying to Russia, might or might not be successful, but in either case, it was the only moment when an offensive war, against his army in Spain, could have been carried on with success.

But how could any extensive offensive operation have been attempted while Badajos remained in the enemy’s possession? If Wellington had advanced in the north, Soult making Badajos his base would have threatened Lisbon; if Wellington marched against the French centre, the same thing would have happened, and the army of the north would also have acted on the left flank of the allies or have retaken Ciudad Rodrigo. If an attempt had been made against Soult, it must have been by the Lower Guadiana, when the French army of Portugal coming down to Badajos, could have either operated against the rear of the allies, or against Lisbon.

Badajos was therefore the key to all offensive operations by the allies, and to take it was an indispensable preliminary. Yet how take it? By regular or by irreglar operations? For the first a certain time was required, which from the experience of former sieges it was not to be expected that the enemy would allow. What then would have been the result, if thus, year after year, the allies showed they were unable even to give battle to their enemies, much less to chase them from the Peninsula? How was it to be expected that England would bear the expense of a protracted warfare, affording no hope of final success? How were the opposition clamours to be replied to in Parliament? How were the secret hopes of the continental governments to be upheld if the military power of England, Portugal, and Spain united was unable to meet even a portion of the secondary armies of Napoleon, while with four hundred thousand men he stalked, a gigantic conqueror, over the wastes of Russia? To strike irregularly then was Wellington’s only resource. To strike without regard to rules, trusting to the courage of his men and to fortune to bear him through the trial triumphant. Was such a crisis to be neglected by a general who had undertaken on his own judgement to fight the battle of the Peninsula? Was he to give force to the light declamation of the hour, when general officers in England were heard to say that every defeat of the French was a snare to decoy the British farther into Spain! was he, at such a moment, to place the probable loss of a few thousand men, more or less, in opposition to such a conjuncture, and by declining the chance offered, shew that he despaired of success himself? What if he failed? He would not have been, save the loss of a few men, worse off than if he had not attacked. In either case, he would have been a baffled general with a sinking cause. But what if he succeeded? The horizon was bright with the coming glory of England!

APPENDIX.

APPENDIX.