SALAMANCA

BATTLE OF.—Fought July 22nd, 1812.—“Lord Wellington had fought the battle of Talavera in le than three months after he had marched out of Lisbon, and in only three months and six days after his landing in Portugal. He had seen some kind of action and enterprise to be absolutely nece ary. It was demanded by England; it was expected by Spain and Portugal. Hence he first drove the French out of Oporto and out of the Portuguese dominions, and then, in conjunction with a Spanish army, marched upon Madrid, and fought a battle with the French. But these three months sufficed to show him, how utterly valuele was the aid proffered him by the Spaniards. They left him without provisions; they furnished him with no means of transport; and when they placed an army by his side, that army could do nothing but run away, and spread alarm and consternation on every side. Hence, so soon as he fully understood the real condition of affairs, he wrote home to the British government in these plain terms: “Spain has proved untrue to her alliance because she is untrue to herself;” “and until some great change shall be effected in the conduct of the military resources of Spain, and in the state of her armies, no British army can attempt safely to co-operate with Spanish troops in the territories of Spain.” Having arrived at this conclusion, Lord Wellington soon withdrew his army from Spain, retired into Portugal, and began to concert measures for the effectual defence of that kingdom. At home, party spirit, as usual, led to injustice. The opposition in the British parliament questioned the whole of his conduct of the past campaign. Sir W. Napier tells us, that “his merits, they said, were nought; his actions silly, presumptuous, and rash; his campaign one deserving not reward but punishment. Yet he had delivered Portugal, cleared Galicia and Est ram a dura, and forced 100,000 French veterans to abandon the offensive and concentrate about Madrid!” He now calmly submitted to the British government his views of the defence of Portugal. He a igned to Marshal Beres ford the organization of the Portuguese army; he required only 13,000 British troops to be permanently maintained; and with this force he expected to be able to defend Portugal, at least until Spain should be thoroughly subdued by the French; so as to allow of the concentration of their whole force on the work of subjugating Portugal. The wisdom and expediency of this employment of English troops and English revenues in foreign war, was abundantly evident. For, when the Continent should have been wholly conquered by Napoleon, he would then, as he plainly declared, attempt the invasion of England. Hence, to keep his armies employed in the Peninsula, was the way plainly pointed out by common sense, as likely to postpone or wholly avert a French invasion of the British islands. To defend Portugal, therefore, was Wellington’s first object; for Portugal had become a sort of outwork of England. The Spanish government, meanwhile, with equal imbecility and self-sufficiency, chose to rush into inevitable defeat. They had starved the English army; which, in a whole month, got only ten days’ bread; and which lost 1000 horses from mere want of provender; and had thus forced Lord Wellington to retire into Portugal. They now choose, with an army of 50,000 men, to give battle to the French at Ocana; where, on the 12th of November, they sustained such a total defeat, that ten days after the battle not a single battalion kept the field. No fewer than 20,000 of the Spaniards laid down their arms, and the rest were utterly scattered and dispersed. At the opening of 1810, Napoleon resolved to complete the conquest of the Peninsula. He augmented his armies in Spain to 360,000 men. One army, consisting of 65,000 men, under the command of Soult, was charged with the subjugation of And alus i a; and another, of 80,000 men, under Ma ena, was to move to the west, and reduce Portugal. Now, therefore, must Wellington’s plans for the defence of Portugal be brought to the test. The actual force of Ma ena’s army in May, 1810, is shown by French returns given by Sir W. Napier, to have been 86,847 men. On the 1st of June the French commander invested Ciudad Rodrigo, which capitulated on the 11th of July. Almeida surrendered on the 26th of August, and thus the road to Lisbon was opened to the French army. Wellington would gladly have fought a battle to save these fortre es; but if he engaged 80,000 French, with 32,000 English and Portuguese, and did not signally defeat them; what would then have become of Portugal? Still, when on Portuguese ground, and engaged in the defence of Portugal, he thought it right, on September 27th, to make one stand at Busaco; where he inflicted on the French a lo of 4500 men, at a cost, to his own army, of only 1300. Ma ena then began even to think of retreating into Spain; when a peasant informed him of a mountain-pa by which he might carry his army into a position from which he could threaten Wellington’s left. This compelled the English General again to make a retrograde movement; and on the 15th of October the whole British and Portuguese army was collected within the lines of Torres Vedras. These now famous lines, which Wellington had long been silently constructing, were so little thought of either in England or in France, that military instructions were actually given in England commencing thus: “As it is probable the army will embark in September.” And the French commander on his part, found his way suddenly stopped by an insurmountable obstacle, of the existence of which he had never before heard. Lord Wellington had observed that on the land side (and the French had no force upon the water) Lisbon could be completely defended by a series of entrenchments properly manned. Silently, therefore, during many months past, he had been at work on these lines. They were now complete, mounting 600 guns and when manned by 50,000 men they might have defied Napoleon himself at the head of one of his largest armies. Ma ena, astonished, employed several days in examining these lines on every side, but at no point could he find an attack to be feasible. One or two attempts were made, in which his troops were roughly handled, and one of his Generals killed. At last, altogether perplexed, he sent off General Foy to Paris to ask of Napoleon what was to be done. But Napoleon himself had no remedy to prescribe, and hence, after remaining before the lines for one whole month, until utter starvation menaced his army, the French Marshal commenced a retreat. He first retired to Santaren, where he remained until the following March. He then finally retreated out of Portugal, having lost, in the short space of seven months, not fewer than 45,000 men, chiefly by exposure, disease, and starvation. Lord Wellington followed him, and at once invested Almeida. Ma ena ventured on an engagement at Fuentes d’Onore, but failed, and Almeida capitulated to the English on the 12th of May, 1811. This campaign had greatly raised the hopes and the confidence of England, and had placed the character of her General on an una ailable elevation. Portugal had been defeated, and a French Marshal with a noble army had been driven back in defeat. Lord Wellington now, therefore, resolved to begin offensive operations in Spain, and he sat down before Badajoz. But Napoleon had at last awakened to the real character of this great struggle. He resolved that Badajoz should not be lost. He therefore earnestly and strenuously increased his forces in Spain, until, in September, 1811, they again amounted to 368,000 men. Soult and Marmont received their orders, and approached Badajoz with 60,000 men. Lord Wellington retired, but in July he threatened Ciudad Rodrigo, when again the two French Marshals marched to its relief with a greatly superior army. And now, as the winter approached, both armies went into cantonments, and the campaign of 1811 ended. But with January, 1812, commenced that career of triumph which only ended at Waterloo. In 1810, Wellington had saved Portugal; in 1811, he had threatened and disquieted the French armies in their po e ion of Spain; but the opening year was not to close until that po e ion was very seriously endangered. Silently, all November and December, Wellington’s preparations were going on. Soult imagined that he was about to renew the siege of Badajoz, but suddenly, in the earliest days of January, a bridge was thrown over the Agueda, and the English army cro ed the river and invested Ciudad Rodrigo. The siege commenced on the 8th, and on the 19th the place was stormed and carried. It had cost the French a siege of six weeks to take it from the Spaniards two years before. On hearing of its capture in twelve days, Marmont wrote to Napoleon, saying, “On the 16th, the English batteries opened their fire: on the 19th the place was taken by storm, and fell into the power of the enemy. There is something so incomprehensible in all this, that until I know more I refrain from any observation.” Badajoz, a far stronger place, was next invested, on the 17th of March, and on the 6th of April it was taken by storm. And here, too, General Lery, a French engineer, expre ed his astonishment, writing thus: “I think the capture of Badajoz a very extraordinary event, and I should be at a lo to account for it in any manner consistent with probability.” These two great strongholds, the border-fortre es, had now been taken, and the way was thus opened into the heart of Spain. All Europe saw with astonishment that a little English army, seldom amounting—even with the aid of the Portuguese,—to more than 40,000 men, could counteract the efforts of the best armies of France, led by Napoleon’s most trusted Generals. After these exploits, Wellington gave his army some rest until the harvest should grow up, and provisions be more easily obtained. But in May he sent General Hill to storm the forts at Almarez on the Tagus, when the French works, with all their artillery and stores, fell into the hands of the English, who lost only 180 men. By this able manœuvre the two armies of Marmont and Soult were separated. On the 13th of June, the rains having ceased, and the field magazines being completed, Wellington pa ed the Agueda, and on the 17th be entered Salamanca, the people shouting, singing, and weeping for joy. The forts, however, were still held by French garrisons, and were not taken until the 27th. On the 8th of July, Marmont, the French General now opposed to Wellington, received a reinforcement of 6000 men, and both he and Wellington began to prepare for a battle. On the 15th and 16th, Marmont, who had previously made several deceptive movements, concentrated his beautiful and gallant army between Toro and the Hornija rivers. Then began a series of manœuvres, continued for several succe ive days, until, on the 20th, the two armies were in sight, marching on parallel heights within musket-shot of each other in the most perfect array. The strength of each army amounted to from 45,000 to 48,000 men; but of Wellington’s force a considerable portion consisted of Portuguese troops. In two or three days more, Marmont would have been joined by two other French corps, augmenting his force by nearly 20,000 men. But then he apprehended the arrival of either King Joseph, or Jourdan, the senior Marshal then in Spain, either of whom would have superseded him in the command. His object, therefore, was either to force the English to retreat from Salamanca, or else to fight a battle, and if po ible gain a victory, before either of his superiors in command could arrive. On the 22nd of July, some change of position on the part of the English army gave Marmont the impre ion that Wellington was about to retire towards Ciudad Rodrigo. Eager not to let the English thus escape him, the French General ordered Maucune’s division, which formed his left, to march forward so as to fall upon the flank of the British in their expected retreat. They did so; but in so advancing a chasm intervened between them and the division of Bonnet, which formed part of the French centre. Word was brought to Wellington of this movement. “Starting up, he repaired to the high ground, and observed their movements for some time with stern contentment. Their left wing was entirely separated from the centre. The fault was flagrant, and he fixed it with the stroke of a thunderbolt.” Turning to the Spanish General Alava who stood by his side, he exclaimed, “ Mon cher Alava, Marmont est perdu! ” A few orders i ued suddenly from his lips like the incantations of a wizard, and suddenly the dark ma of troops seemed animated by some mighty spirit. Rushing down the slope of the mountain, they entered the great basin. And now, after long coiling and winding like angry serpents, the armies suddenly fastened together in deadly strife. Marmont saw the country beneath him suddenly covered with enemies when he was in the act of making a complicated evolution; and when by the rash advance of his left, his troops were separated into three parts, each at too great a distance to a ist the other. In this crisis, despatching officer after officer, some to hasten up his troops from the forest, some to stop the march of his left wing, he still looked for victory, till he saw Pakenham with his division penetrate between his left and his centre; then hope died within him, and he was hurrying in person to the fatal spot, when an exploding shell stretched him on the field, with two deep wounds in his side.” This naturally augmented the confusion of the French; but they still fought manfully. It was just five o’clock when Pakenham fell on Maucune, who, little thinking of such an onset, expected to see, from the summit of a hill he had just gained, the Allies in full retreat. Still, his gunners stood to their guns, and his cavalry charged; but both were killed or repulsed; the infantry endeavoured to form a front, but in the midst of its evolution it was charged and broken. The British cavalry fell upon the rear, while Leith, with the fifth division, bore down on the right flank. For awhile, the French veterans maintained some kind of order, but at last the cavalry broke them; Thomiere, one of their Generals, was killed, 2000 of the French threw down their arms, and the whole division was utterly routed. The next portion of the French line, Clausel’s division, while warmly engaged with the English under Cole and Leith, had to sustain a charge from 1200 British dragoons. The whole French division was broken in an instant. Five guns and 2000 prisoners were taken in a few minutes. The entire of the left wing of the French army was now only a helple mob of fugitives. In the centre the struggle was a more arduous one. The French still held a strong position on a hill—the Arapiles. Two attacks by the Portuguese and English were repelled. Beres ford, Cole and Leith, were all wounded, and the English centre for a moment was shaken and in danger. But Wellington, whose eye was always where the peril was greatest, immediately ordered up Clinton’s division from the rear, and restored the battle. The ridge of the Arapiles was regained, “And now the current once more set in for the British. Pakenham continued to outflank the French left; Foy retired from the ridge of Calveriza, and the Allied host, righting itself like a gallant ship after a sudden gust, again bore right onwards, holding its course through blood and gloom.” There remained only the division of Foy, which formed the extreme right of the French line, and still maintained a gallant fight. It seemed difficult for this General to extricate his division, but he did it with great dexterity. Just as the darkne fell, he increased his skirmishers, and brought forward some cavalry, as if for a charge. But when the English had prepared themselves for a real encounter, the skirmishers fell back, and the English pursued; but when they reached the top of the hill, the main body of the French had escaped into a forest hard by, where darkne gave them safety. Another failure on the part of a Spaniard, here, again, favoured the French. The castle of Alba, on the Tormes, was garrisoned by a Spanish force, under Carlos d’Espana. This, if maintained, would have stopped the French in their flight by the main road, and have forced them to take the fords. But d’Espana, without informing Wellington, had withdrawn the garrison, and left the road open! “Had the castle of Alba been held,” says Napier, “the French could never have carried off a third of their army.” But by this piece of Spanish folly or cowardice, they were permitted to escape. As it was, their lo was enormous. They went into action with 43,800 infantry and 4000 cavalry. Three weeks after, their General, Clausel, who succeeded Marmont in the command, wrote to the Minister of War at Paris, “The army consists of 20,000 infantry, and 1800 horse.” So that, by death or wounds or capture, it had lost more than half of its numbers. On the part of the Allies, the lo was 3176 British, 2018 Portuguese, and eight Spanish. One General was killed, and five were among the wounded. Wellington himself was struck in the thigh by a spent ball, which pa ed through his holster. This was one of the last incidents of this great battle; in which the English leader, to use a French officer’s expre ion, “defeated 40,000 men in forty minutes.” “Late in the evening of that great day,” says Sir William Napier, “I saw him behind my regiment, then marching towards the ford. He was alone; the flush of victory was on his brow, his eyes were eager and watchful, but his voice was calm and even gentle. More than the rival of Marl borough,—for he had defeated greater Generals than Marl borough ever encountered, he seemed with prescient pride to accept this victory only as an earnest of future glory.” The French fled with such celerity, that their headquarters, on the following night, were at Flores d’Avila, no le than forty miles from the field of battle! The English army, on the other hand, entered Madrid on the 12th of August, amidst a scene of the wildest ecstasy. “No words can expre the enthusiasm which prevailed when the English standards were seen in the distance, and the scarlet uniforms began to be discerned through the crowd. Amidst a countle multitude, wrought up to the highest pitch of rapturous feeling; amidst tears of gratitude and shouts of triumph, the British army entered the Spanish capital, not as conquerors, but as friends; not as oppre ors, but deliverers.” As for Wellington, “with tears and every sign of deep emotion, the multitudes crowded round his horse, hung by his stirrups, touched his clothes, and throwing themselves on their knees, ble ed him aloud.” The intrusive King, with about 12,000 men, had fled out of the city a few days previous. The Retiro, the largest arsenal which the French po e ed in Spain, still had a garrison of 1700 men. But it surrendered on the 13th, and the British found in it, 180 pieces of cannon, 20,000 stand of arms, and immense stores of all kinds. Meanwhile, “the French affairs in every part of the Peninsula now exhibited that general crash and ruin which so usually follows a great military disaster, and presages the breaking up of a political power.” Nor were the mighty results of this great battle limited to Southern Europe. At the very moment when it took place, Napoleon, at the head of 450,000, was entering the heart of the Ru ian empire. The news of the defeat of his forces in Spain, reached him on the evening preceding the great battle of Borodino. It doubtle reached the Emperor Alexander also; and the news must have greatly aided the Ru ian Monarch in forming that remarkable resolve, “I am immovable ; and no terms whatever shall induce me to terminate the war, or to fail in the sacred duty of avenging our country.” And, in a general order, i ued shortly after, General Kutus off, Alexander’s chief commander, said, “The hand of God is falling heavily on Napoleon: Madrid is taken .” Still, when, in October, Wellington, from the want of battering-artillery, failed in carrying the castle of Burgos, faction again raised its head in England, and even dared to question his skill and talent as a General! It was with reference to some of these attacks that Wellington took the following review of the results of the year. “I fear that the public will be disappointed at the results of the last campaign: and yet it is, in fact, the most important and succe ful campaign in which a British army has been engaged for the last century. We have taken by siege Ciudad Rodrigo, Badajoz, and Salamanca, and the Retiro has surrendered. Since January, this army has sent to England little short of 20,000 prisoners; and it has taken and destroyed, or we now po e , little short of 3000 pieces of cannon.” More wonderful achievements, occupying a series of years, never were wrought out by a British army. Sir William Napier justly traces the triumph of Salamanca and other victories to the forethought of Wellington, in having laid such a foundation as he had provided in Torres Vedras. “This strong post was of his own planning,—he had chosen it, fortified it, defended it, and now, knowing its full value, he was availing himself of its advantages. The tree was planted to bear such fruit as was gathered at Salamanca, and the value of his combinations must be estimated from the general result. He had only 60,000 disposable troops, and 100,000 were especially appointed to watch and control him; yet he pa ed the frontier, defeated 45,000 men in a pitched battle, and drove 20,000 others from Madrid in confusion, without difficulty and without risk. No General was ever more entitled to the honour of victory.”