Kitabı oku: «The Story of Wellington», sayfa 6
CHAPTER IX
Sir Arthur’s Return to Portugal
(1809)
“We are not naturally a military people; the whole business of an army upon service is foreign to our habits, and is a constraint upon them, particularly in a poor country like this.”
Wellington.
Baron de Frénilly, travelling to Paris in December 1808, notes that “the roads along which we passed were crowded with splendid troops who were on their way to find a grave in the Peninsula.” Napoleon, in the Constitution he granted to Spain, assumes for himself not only the so-called “divine right of kings,” but the special favour of Providence. “God,” he says, “has given me the power and the will to overcome all obstacles.” Frénilly, writing after the Emperor’s death, merely states an historical fact; Napoleon, at the height of his stupendous power, regards himself as omnipotent, and proves within a few years that he is not.
Yet it must be conceded that the Dictator of Europe—apart from moral considerations, which never troubled him to any extent—had a certain right to infer from his past experience that the Almighty was on his side. It was not for him to foresee that the Peninsula was to prove a running sore of the Imperial body politic. To be sure, Joseph had not been particularly successful on the throne of the Spanish Bourbons, Murat had displayed many foolish qualities, Dupont had surrendered, Junot had evacuated Portugal, and eleven millions had rebelled either practically or theoretically against French domination, but there was still himself, and God was “on the side of the heaviest battalions!” “I may find in Spain the Pillars of Hercules, but not the limits of my power.” Thus he endeavoured to encourage his brother, and there is no reason to suspect that he imagined otherwise. He announced that he would pour between 300,000 and 400,000 troops across the Pyrenees—he actually began the new campaign with over 200,000, which compared more than favourably with the 120,000 ill-organized patriots under Castaños, Palafox, Vives, Belvedere, Blake, and La Romana, who usually acted without any idea of the value of co-operation.
The number of those ready and willing to engage in a guerilla warfare cannot be given.46 Statistics fail in such a matter as this. Names indelibly associated with Napoleon’s greatness were either present or coming—Victor, Bessières, Moncey, Lefebvre, Ney, St Cyr, Mortier, and Junot.
When Dalrymple, Burrard, and Wellesley sailed from Portugal the British command devolved upon Sir John Moore. This being a biography of Wellington, Moore’s astounding campaign can only be referred to in the briefest way, but it is necessary to mention the more important incidents if we are to understand the various phases of the war. Leaving 9000 men at Lisbon with Lieutenant-General Sir John Cradock, and taking with him 14,000 troops, Moore advanced into Spain to co-operate with the Spaniards according to his instructions. His own columns reached Salamanca, the point of concentration, in November 1808, but Baird, who, with a reinforcement of 13,000 men, was to effect a junction with him, found it impossible to do so. There was much delay in consequence.
In the first week of the following month the Emperor was at Madrid, and the Spanish capital once again in the hands of the French. Disaster after disaster had followed hard in the tracks of the national forces.
It was Moore’s hope that by slowly retreating northward the enemy would follow, and thus enable his allies in the south to recover. Having united with Baird, and learned that Soult, with not more than 20,000, was near Sahagun, Moore was on the eve of combat when the startling intelligence reached him that Napoleon was in pursuit. The Emperor had told the Senate, “I am determined to carry on the war with the utmost activity, and to destroy the armies that England has disembarked in that country.” With wonderful promptitude Moore turned towards Coruña, where he believed the British fleet awaited him. Napoleon, hearing disconcerting news from Paris, made off for his capital, leaving Soult, “the Iron Duke of France,” and Ney to pursue the red-coats.
On the 16th January 1809, the battle in which Moore received his death-wound was fought. Within twenty-four hours the victorious troops embarked for the homeland. Not a British soldier, other than deserters or stragglers, was left in Spain. In the sister kingdom there were some 12,000, of whom 9000 had been left at Lisbon by Moore when he had set out for Salamanca; the remainder had arrived from England in the previous November and December. In addition, Sir Robert Wilson had succeeded in equipping some 1300 men at Oporto for his Loyal Lusitanian Legion.
It soon became evident that war would shortly break out between France and Austria, thus precluding any thought on Napoleon’s part of going back to the Peninsula. Castlereagh, notwithstanding previous experiences, was as enthusiastic as ever. Baird and his ragged troops were no sooner home than it was remarked that the Secretary for War and Wellesley were very frequently together. Wiseacres foretold an early return of the latter to Spain and Portugal.
Sir Arthur prepared a lengthy Memorandum on the defence of Portugal, which was placed in the hands of the Cabinet for careful consideration. “I have always been of opinion,” it begins, “that Portugal might be defended, whatever might be the result of the contest in Spain; and that in the meantime the measures adopted for the defence of Portugal would be highly useful to the Spaniards in their contest with the French.”
Wellesley suggested the thorough reorganization of the native Portuguese troops, part of the expense being borne by Great Britain, and the employment of not less than 30,000 British troops, including 4000 or 5000 cavalry and a large body of artillery. The entire army was to be commanded by British officers. Riflemen and 3000 British or German cavalry should be sent as additional reinforcements as soon as possible, in addition to a corps of engineers for an army of 60,000. He perfectly understood that the French would not be caught napping, for “it may be depended upon that as soon as the newspapers shall have announced47 the departure of Officers for Portugal, the French armies in Spain will receive orders to make their movements towards Portugal, so as to anticipate our measures for its defence. We ought therefore to have every thing on the spot, or nearly so, before any alarm is created at home respecting our intentions.”
Thanks in no small measure to Castlereagh, Wellesley was appointed to the supreme command of the new expedition. He left England on the 14th April 1809, a few weeks after Soult’s vanguard had crossed the Portuguese frontier, and landed at Lisbon on the 22nd, after a most eventful voyage, having encountered terrible weather off the Isle of Wight which threatened to drive his vessel ashore. The Commander-in-Chief thus sums up the situation in the Peninsula: “At that time,” he says, “the French had got possession of Zaragoza, Marshal Soult held Oporto and the northern provinces of Portugal. The battle of Medellin had been fought on the 29th March; and General Cuesta was endeavouring to recover from its effects, and to collect an army again at Monasterio, in the mountains of the Sierra Morena. The French, under Marshal Victor, were in possession of the Guadiana, and had their advanced posts as forward as Los Santos. Sebastiani was at Ciudad Real, and held in check the army of La Carolina, at that time under the command of General Venegas, consisting of about 12,000 men. Ney was in possession of Galicia; Salamanca was held by a small detachment of French troops; St Cyr was at Catalonia with his corps of 25,000 men; and Kellermann, who had succeeded to Bessières in the command of the 6th corps, was at Valladolid. Mortier, with his corps,48 and the Duc d’Abrantès (Junot), with the 8th corps, at Zaragoza. The Portuguese army was totally disorganized, and nearly annihilated; and the Spanish troops were scarcely able to hold their positions in the Sierra Morena. The Marquis de la Romana, who had been with his corps on the frontiers of Portugal, near Chaves, from the period of the embarkation of the British army at Coruña, in the month of January, till the month of March, had moved from thence when Soult invaded Portugal by Chaves, and afterwards moved towards the Asturias with his army, and went himself into that province.”
The greeting the Commander-in-Chief received at the hands of the populace of Lisbon would have been embarrassing to one possessing a less cool head, but Wellesley knew perfectly well that applause to-day is apt to become condemnation to-morrow. He was appointed Marshal-General in the Portuguese Army, which was now placed in the capable hands of General Beresford by the British Cabinet, Wellesley’s one second-in-command being Major-General Rowland Hill. According to his instructions, “the defence of Portugal you will consider as the first and immediate object of your attention. But, as the security of Portugal can only be effectually provided for in connection with the defence of the Peninsula in the larger sense, his Majesty on this account, as well as from the unabated interest he takes in the cause of Spain, leaves it to your judgment to decide, when your army shall be advanced on the frontier of Portugal, how your efforts can be best combined with the Spanish, as well as the Portuguese troops, in support of the common cause. In any movements you may undertake, you will, however, keep in mind that, until you receive further orders, your operations must necessarily be conducted with especial reference to the protection of that country.”
Of British troops the Commander-in-Chief now had at his disposal 23,455, namely, 18,935 infantry, 4270 cavalry, and 250 attached to the wagon train; Portugal contributed 16,000 men. Costello, a non-commissioned officer of the 95th Rifles, and later a Captain in the British Legion, has nothing good to say of the Portuguese troops. In his record of the Peninsular War49 he gives several instances of their unreliability and treacherous nature. One example must suffice:
“The sanguinary nature of the Portuguese,” he says, “during the whole period of the war was notorious. When crossed or excited, nothing but the shedding of blood could allay their passion. It was always with the greatest difficulty that we could preserve our French prisoners from being butchered by them, even in cold blood. They would hang upon the rear of a detachment with prisoners, like so many carrion birds, waiting every opportunity to satiate their love of vengeance, and it required all the firmness and vigilance of our troops to keep them in check. It was well known that even our men fell in stepping between them and the French whom they had marked out as victims. Indeed, it was not unfrequent for our men to suffer from the consequences of their ferocity, and I myself, while at Vallée, had a narrow escape. I had crossed the hills to purchase some necessaries at the quarters of the 52nd Regiment, and on my return fell in with several of the soldiers of the 3rd Caçadores. One of them, a fierce-looking scoundrel, evinced a great inclination to quarrel, the more particularly as he perceived that I was unarmed and alone. Having replied rather sharply to some abuse they had cast upon the English, by reflecting on their countrymen in return, he flew into a rage, drew his bayonet, and made a rush at me, which I avoided by stepping aside, and tripping him head foremost on the ground. I was in the act of seizing his bayonet, when a number of his comrades came up, to whom he related, in exaggerated terms, the cause of our disagreement. Before he had half concluded, a general cry arose of ‘Kill the English dog’; and the whole, drawing their bayonets, were advancing upon me when a party of the 52nd came up, the tables were turned, and the Caçadores fled in all directions.”
Wellesley at once prepared to advance, and had not been at Lisbon a week before representations were made to him by the Junta of Spanish Estremadura for aid in behalf of the southern provinces. He replied that until “the enemy who has invaded Portugal shall have been removed” he could not hope to lend them the requisite assistance. “The enemy” consisted of the corps under Soult and Victor. The army of the former, which had left Coruña and invaded Portugal by Napoleon’s imperative orders, now occupied Oporto. This, the second city in the kingdom and the centre of the most prosperous district, fell after a gallant if unscientific resistance on the part of the inhabitants under the Bishop. The Marshal took dire vengeance on the insurgents during the journey from Galicia, perhaps because he had suffered from the guerilla warfare, now almost universal throughout the Peninsula. Victor’s army was to take Badajoz and afterwards Seville, while Sebastiani held the south in check. Wellesley decided to attack Soult, which necessitated a march of over eighty miles of difficult country. Leaving two small detachments of his own and of Portuguese troops upon the Tagus to watch the movements of Victor, he set out with 13,000 British, 9000 Portuguese, and 3000 Germans—25,000 in all.
The right column, consisting of 9000 men under Beresford, was sent to Lamego, on the Douro, so as to be ready to cut off Soult’s retreat, the left making for Oporto with Wellesley. On the 10th May the cavalry and advanced guard of the latter crossed the Vouga, hoping to surprise the French troops at Albergaria and the neighbouring villages, but the movement was not completely successful, although a number of prisoners and cannon were taken.
The advanced guard reached Vendas Novas on the following day, and drove in the outposts of the French advanced guard. The latter were vigorously attacked in the woods and village, and defeated with considerable loss. All this augured well for the ensuing operations, and on the 12th the vanguard reached the southern bank of the Douro. The French were stationed on the opposite bank, having taken the precaution to burn the bridge after crossing, and to withdraw all the boats they could discover.
Unfortunate in this matter, Wellesley was favoured in another. His army was screened by cliffs and a hill called the Serra. This bold rock was surmounted by a Franciscan convent, where the Commander posted batteries and made his observations. As the river winds a great deal, his movements were unobserved by those on the look-out at the French headquarters, to the left of Wellesley as he peered through his glass across the wide waterway. He had already perceived an extensive building, known as the Seminary, surrounded by high walls with but one entrance on the landward side, and open to the river. This he knew would be an excellent position to secure, especially as it was almost opposite to him.
There was in the army a certain Colonel Waters, a keen-eyed officer with an infinite amount of resource and a ready wit. He contended that it was scarcely probable that Soult could have secured every boat, and interrogated a refugee on the point. He found that the man had crossed in a small skiff.50 With the aid of the prior of Amarante, the fugitive, and several peasants, he heaved the boat out of the mud, and, crossing the stream, brought back a number of barges. In these three companies of the Buffs, under Lieut.-General Paget, effected a landing on the opposite side. This excellent officer was seriously wounded almost immediately afterward, but the passage of the Douro had been secured.
General Murray, who had been ordered to cross at Barca d’Avintas, also managed to get over, and signally failed to check the retiring columns after the battle. As additional troops gained the opposite shore the French made repeated attempts to hurl them back, but were ultimately obliged to retreat “in the utmost confusion” towards Amarante. According to a letter from General Stewart to his brother, Lord Castlereagh, the French fled with such haste that “Sir Arthur Wellesley dined at their headquarters on the dinner which had been prepared for Marshal Soult.”
On the 19th May, Soult was across the frontier, having been compelled to abandon over fifty guns and his baggage. In making his way across the Sierra Catalina to escape the pursuing troops, his rear-guard was defeated at Salamonde, with severe loss. He eventually reached Orense, in Galicia, minus some 5000 men, including the sick and wounded he had left behind him in Oporto.
“The road from Penafiel to Montealegre,” says Wellesley, “is strewed with the carcases of horses and mules, and of French soldiers, who were put to death by the peasantry before our advanced guard could save them. This last circumstance is the natural effect of the species of warfare which the enemy have carried on in this country. Their soldiers have plundered and murdered the peasantry at their pleasure; and I have seen many persons hanging in the trees by the sides of the road, executed for no reason that I could learn, excepting that they have not been friendly to the French invasion and usurpation of the government of their country; and the route of their column, on their retreat, could be traced by the smoke of the villages to which they set fire.”
Within a fortnight Wellesley was writing of the defects of his own men. “I have long been of opinion,” he says, “that a British army could bear neither success nor failure, and I have had manifest proofs of the truth of this opinion in the first of its branches in the recent conduct of the soldiers of this army. They have plundered the country most terribly, which has given me the greatest concern....
“They have plundered the people of bullocks, among other property, for what reason I am sure I do not know, except it be, as I understand is their practice, to sell them to the people again. I shall be very much obliged to you if you will mention this practice to the Ministers of the Regency, and bid them to issue a proclamation forbidding the people, in the most positive terms, to purchase any thing from the soldiers of the British army.”
The Commander-in-Chief relates the same terrible facts to Castlereagh. “The army behave terribly ill,” is his expression. “They are a rabble who cannot bear success any more than Sir J. Moore’s army could bear failure. I am endeavoring to tame them; but, if I should not succeed, I must make an official complaint of them, and send one or two corps home in disgrace. They plunder in all directions.”
Meanwhile Victor, far from taking Badajoz and marching on Seville as the Emperor wished, had found it necessary to move in the direction of Madrid, where he could secure much needed assistance. He therefore took up his position at Talavera. Wellesley, intent upon crushing him, arrived at Abrantes about the same time as the Marshal was evacuating Estremadura and consequently abandoning the fruits of his victory over Cuesta at Medellin. For Wellesley to have followed Victor with the relatively few men at his disposal would have been to court disaster, and he therefore acquiesced in a new plan of operations suggested by Cuesta, in which the Spaniards were to be given an opportunity of showing their capabilities or proving their incapacity. This, says Professor Oman, was “the first and only campaign which he ever undertook in company with a Spanish colleague and without supreme control over the whole conduct of affairs.”
CHAPTER X
Talavera
(1809)
“The battle of Talavera was the hardest fought of modern times.”
Wellington.
The potentialities of the new project were distinctly promising. After uniting with Cuesta, Wellesley was to follow the course of the Tagus and cut off Victor’s army of 33,000 troops while the attention of Sebastiani and Joseph Bonaparte, who had but 17,000 men all told, was occupied by Venegas.
When last heard of Soult and Ney were in Galicia busily engaged in suppressing an insurrection, so no opposition was anticipated from them. In this matter after events proved the facts to be far different from the surmise. There seemed every likelihood of a successful issue provided there was no snapping of individual links of the chain of operations. Wellesley did not find Cuesta a particularly affable colleague, but he was not the man to assert his own opinion unless he thought it imperative. He characterized him as having “no military genius,” which is certainly more favourable than “that deformed-looking lump of pride, ignorance, and treachery,” which is the description given to us by Costello. “He was,” the latter adds, “the most murderous-looking old man I ever saw.” They came together at Oropesa on the 20th July, their forces totalling 55,000, of which 35,000 were Spanish. It was the task of Venegas and his 26,000 men to approach Madrid from the south, and, by a demonstration in force, distract the attention of Sebastiani. He proved far too slow, and ere he was able to interfere, Victor, Sebastiani, and Joseph concentrated in the neighbourhood of Toledo. On the 26th July the last batch of their 50,000 troops came together.
Had Wellesley been allowed to attack on the 23rd July, as he wished, it is probable that he would have crushed Victor, whose reinforcements did not begin to arrive until the following day. Cuesta had already shown his incompetency, and some of his advanced guard had been roughly handled by a French cavalry division. It was Wellesley’s opinion that the psychological moment had arrived, but the Spanish commander objected. “Had we fought then,” Wellesley afterwards averred, “it would have been as great a battle as Waterloo, and would have cleared Spain of the French for that time.” The formidable task before him was not made lighter by the knowledge that the commissariat and transport arrangements had utterly broken down.
At Talavera, evacuated by Victor, who moved a few miles to the east, Wellesley was obliged to halt, and even threatened to withdraw from Spain because of the ill-treatment accorded his famishing troops. “I have never seen an army,” he says, “so ill-treated in any country, or, considering that all depends upon its operations, one which deserved good treatment so much. It is ridiculous to pretend that the country cannot supply our wants. The French army is well fed, and the soldiers who are taken in good health, and well supplied with bread, of which indeed they left a small magazine behind them. This is a rich country in corn, in comparison with Portugal, and yet, during the whole of my operations in that country, we never wanted bread but on one day on the frontiers of Galicia. In the Vera de Plasencia there are means to supply this army for 4 months, as I am informed, and yet the alcaldes have not performed their engagements with me. The Spanish army has plenty of every thing, and we alone, upon whom every thing depends, are actually starving.”
After considerable trouble Cuesta consented to Wellesley assuming supreme command of the combined forces. On the afternoon of the 27th the British General mounted his horse and, accompanied by his staff, rode out of the town to an old château, known as the Casa de Salinas. His object was to obtain a bird’s-eye view from the roof of the movements of the enemy on the Alberche. He apprehended no danger, because Spanish troops occupied the adjacent woods. In this he was deceived, for a number of French tirailleurs suddenly appearing, the troops beat a hasty retreat. The Commander-in-Chief jumped from the wall and regained his horse not a moment too soon. Had it not been for the near presence of a body of English infantry, who immediately opened fire, it is extremely probable that Wellington and his staff would have been captured.
At five o’clock the opposing forces were within touch, the French having crossed the river and driven in the British piquets, who lost about 400 men.
One of the finest descriptions of the ensuing battle—or more correctly, series of battles—is that of Captain M. de Rocca, a French officer of Hussars, which has the advantage of giving the point of view of the enemy, and how Wellesley was regarded by one at least of his combatants.
“The Spaniards,” he says, “were posted in a situation deemed impregnable, behind old walls and garden-fences, which border and encompass the city of Talavera.51 Their right was defended by the Tagus, and their left joined the English, near a redoubt constructed on an eminence. The ground in front of the Anglo-Spanish armies was very unequal, and intersected here and there by ravines, formed by the rains of winter. The whole extent of their position was covered by the channel of a pretty deep torrent, at that time dry. The English left was strengthened by a conical eminence that commanded the greater part of the field of battle, and which was separated by a deep extensive valley from the Castilian chain of mountains.
“This eminence was thus in a manner the key to the enemy’s position, and against this decisive point of attack, an experienced general, possessed of that intuitive glance which insures success, would immediately have led the principal part of his disposable force, to obtain possession of it. He would either have taken it by assault, or have turned it by the valley. But King Joseph, when he should have acted, was seized with an unfortunate spirit of indecision and uncertainty. He attempted only half measures, he distributed his forces partially, and lost the opportunity of conquering while feeling the way for it. Marshal Jourdan, the second in command, had not that spur of patriotism in the Spanish war, which inspired him when he fought in the plains of Fleurus, to achieve the independence of France.
“The French commenced the engagement by a cannonade and rifle-fire in advance of their right; and they despatched a single battalion only, and some sharp-shooters, by the valley, to take the eminence which defended the English left, never thinking they would do otherwise than yield. This battalion, however, having to contend with superior numbers, was repulsed with loss, and compelled to retire. A division of dragoons, which had gone to reconnoitre Talavera, found the approaches to that city strongly fortified with artillery, and could not advance.
“At nightfall, the French made another attempt to gain the hill. A regiment of infantry, followed at a short distance by two others, attacked the extreme left of the English with unexampled ardour, arrived at the summit of the hill, and took possession of it. But having been fiercely assaulted, in its turn, by an entire division of the English, just, when having conquered, it was breathless with exertion, it was immediately obliged to give way. One of the two regiments, commanded to assist in this attack, had lost its way in a wood on account of the darkness; the other not getting soon enough over the ravine, which covered the enemy’s position, had not arrived in time.
“Both these attacks had miscarried, though conducted with intrepid bravery, because they had been made by an inadequate number of troops. A single battalion had been sent, and then one division, when a great proportion of the whole army should have been despatched. These unsuccessful attempts revealed to the English what we designed next day; and still more evidently demonstrated the importance of the station they held. They passed the greater part of the night in fortifying it with artillery.
“The sun rose next morning on the two armies drawn up in battle order, and again the cannonade commenced. The defence of Portugal being entrusted to the English army, the fate of that country, and, perhaps, of all the Peninsula, was now to be decided by this contest. The veterans of the first and fourth French corps, accustomed for years to conquer throughout Europe, and always to witness their ardour seconded by the combined skill of their chiefs, burned with impatience for orders to engage, and thought to overthrow all before them by one well conjoined assault.
“One division alone, of three regiments of infantry, was sent by the valley to storm the position, of which we had, for a moment, obtained possession the preceding evening. After considerable loss, this division reached the top of the eminence, and was just about taking it. One of the regiments had already advanced as far as the artillery, when their charge was repulsed, and the whole division was forced to retire. The English, apprehending by this renewed attack that the French designed to turn their left by the valley, stationed their cavalry there; and caused a division of the Spaniards to occupy the skirts of the high Castilian mountains beyond it. The French receded to the ground they first occupied. The cannonade continued for another hour, and then became gradually silent. The overpowering heat of mid-day obliged both armies to suspend the combat, and observe a kind of involuntary truce, during which the wounded were removed.
“King Joseph, having at last gone himself to reconnoitre the enemy’s position, gave orders, at four o’clock, for a general attack against the army of England. A division of dragoons was left to observe the Spaniards in the direction of Talavera. General Sebastiani’s corps marched against the right of the English, while Marshal Victor’s three divisions of infantry, followed by masses of cavalry, charged against their left, to attack the eminence by the valley. King Joseph and Marshal Jourdan took part with the reserve, in the rear of the 4th division. The artillery and musketry were not long in being heard.
“The English Commander, stationed on the hill which overlooked the field of battle, was present always where danger demanded his presence. He could survey, at a glance, every corps of his army, and perceive below him the least movement of the French. He saw the line of battle formed, the columns disposed for the conflict; he penetrated their designs by their arrangements, and thus had time to order his plans, so as to penetrate and prevent those of his foes. The position of the English army was naturally strong and difficult of approach, both in front and flank; but in the rear it was quite accessible, and gave ample freedom to their troops to hasten to the quarter threatened.
