Profiting by the confusion which of necessity took place in arrangements for the soirée, I left the house and took a survey of the town and breaches. The houses which were destroyed in the Great Square, by the fire which had taken place on the night of the assault, as also those near the breaches, remained in the same ruined state we had left them; but excepting this, and a few gabions which out-topped the large breach, whose reconstruction had not been quite completed, we could find nothing to denote the toil and labour we had sustained during our operations. An hour sufficed for me to make my “reminiscence” of past events. It was eight o’clock before Darcy and Adair joined me, and when we reached my billet, we found the saloon filled by a large and varied company.
Upon entering the room, all eyes were turned towards us, for the good hostess had said a thousand kind things in my praise, and the height and imposing look of Darcy were in themselves sufficient to cause a stare; but the elegance of Adair’s manners, who had passed the greater part of his life on the Continent—his perfect knowledge of the Portuguese, Spanish, Italian, and French languages—captivated all. And although he was some fifteen or twenty years our senior, he decidedly bore away the palm; and in less than an hour after our entré, he made, to my own knowledge, five conquests; while Darcy and myself could boast of but two each! I never felt so humiliated—from that moment I resolved that if ever I had a son I would make him a linguist.
The ball was opened by Avandano de Alcantara, a young Portuguese captain, belonging to the garrison of Almeida, and Señora Dolores de Inza, a Spanish lady, a relative of the Governor. The dance was the bolero, of which I had heard so much, but had never seen danced before. All eyes were turned towards the spot which the youthful couple occupied. I was an attentive spectator. Avandano danced well, and kept his elbows—a material point by the way—in that position which no bolero dancer should depart from (I obtained this information at Madrid), not to raise them higher than his ear; but he danced mechanically, like one that had been taught, and had his lesson by rule more than by heart. Although he moved his arms with much grace, and kept the proper measure with his feet, there was nothing inspiring in his mode of dance, or in the manner he used his castanettes. His partner, on the contrary, had all the fire of the true Andalusian breed. Her movements, though not perhaps as correct as his, were spirited, and drew down thunders of applause from the spectators; and each plaudit, as was natural, caused her to increase her exertions. She danced beautifully, and every one expressed by their approbation the gratification they felt by her display; but the dance had scarcely ended when she fainted away, in consequence, no doubt, of the exertions she had made. She soon recovered, and would have once more joined the dance, had not her friends dissuaded her from so foolish an act, and she was reluctantly obliged to be a spectator for the remainder of the night. Waltzing was continued to a late hour; but there was no lady hardy enough to attempt the bolero after the success of Señora Dolores in this most difficult and graceful dance. The company at length retired to their different homes; I bade an affectionate good-night to my hostess and her daughters; and long before they were awake in the morning, I was several miles on the road leading to Salamanca.
On the 17th, Darcy, Adair, and I rejoined the 88th and the 3rd Division on the heights of San Christoval. We found that we were engaged in “covering” the siege of the forts of Salamanca, which Marshal Marmont was most anxious to disturb. On the 23rd of June he came up against us, tried our lines at several points, did not like the look of them, and after some futile manœuvring on both sides of the Tormes, fell back upon Huerta, where he remained until the 27th, and then retreated towards the Douro.
Meanwhile our bombardment of the Salamanca forts continued, and on the 27th its effect was so powerful that one of the magazines in the principal fort blew up, and the fire communicating with a quantity of wood which had been incautiously placed near the magazine, the whole fort was soon one vast fire, and a general attack by our troops taking place at the moment, completed the disorder which naturally prevailed. The three forts were thus taken; our loss, which was estimated by the enemy at thirteen hundred, did not much exceed one-third of that number; and Salamanca was freed from the enemy.
As soon as the garrison of the forts were made prisoners, they were marched through the streets leading from the outworks to that part of the town that had been allotted for their reception; but it was painful to witness the degradation which these men were obliged to endure at the hands of the excited population. Women of the lowest grade insulted them, and some there were base enough to spit in their faces; yet the French soldiers bore all these insults with composed—I might say, with truth,—gentlemanly demeanour; but it is not possible for me to express the disgust I felt at seeing brave men so treated by a base rabble who, but a few hours before, were on the most friendly terms with these very men. At one time, when I saw such an indignity as mud thrown at them, and a likelihood of something more serious taking place, I expressed myself in strong terms against the ruffians who so acted; and whether it was that I spoke Spanish well enough to be understood, or that I suited the action to the word by knocking down two fellows who were the ringleaders, I know not; but from that moment the prisoners were allowed to move on quietly.
Thus fell the forts of Salamanca. The news soon reached Marmont, and on the 28th he retrograded towards the Douro, and on the following day rested at Alaejos. Lord Wellington followed the enemy’s movement, who, on the 2nd of July, passed the Douro at Tordesillas, which post was sufficiently formidable to embarrass a general who might be desirous of forcing it. The line of the Douro is unexceptionable; it possesses all the requisites which a retreating army could wish for—uneven banks, narrow fords, and abundance of woods, sufficient to mask the operations of a large body of troops; and Marmont did all that a general could do to render any effort to force it more than hazardous.
On the evening of the 3rd, Picton’s division was abreast of the ford of Pollos; some cavalry tried the depth of the river, which was deemed fordable; but the attitude of the enemy on the opposite bank was so imposing that the idea of forcing the passage was given up. From the 3rd until the 12th of July the two armies remained in presence of each other, encamped on each side of a river which at times is a formidable sheet of water, but which was then little more than an insignificant stream. Nevertheless, although both armies kept their guards on their respective sides of the water, and the movements of each were cautiously watched, not one life was lost, nor one shot fired by either army.
Indeed so different from hostility was the conduct of both nations, that the French and British lived upon the most amicable terms. If we wanted wood for the construction of huts, our men were allowed to pass without molestation to the French side of the river to cut it. Each day the soldiers of both armies used to bathe together in the same stream, and an exchange of rations, such as biscuit and rum, between the French and our men was by no means uncommon. A stop was, however, soon to be put to this friendly intercourse; and it having been known in both armies that something was about to be attempted by Marmont, on the evening of the 12th of July, we shook hands with our vis-à-vis neighbours and parted the best friends.
It is a remarkable fact that the part of the river of which I am speaking was occupied, on our side, by our 3rd Division, on the French side by the 7th Division. The French officers said to us on parting, “We have met, and have been for some time friends. We are about to separate, and may meet as enemies. As 'friends' we received each other warmly—as 'enemies' we shall do the same.” In ten days afterwards the British 3rd and the French 7th Divisions were opposed to each other at the battle of Salamanca—and the 7th French were destroyed by the British 3rd. But I am now about describing one of the most memorable battles ever fought by the British army—the battle of Salamanca.