SECTION XVI: CHAPTER IX
THE END OF THE TALAVERA CAMPAIGN: ALMONACID
While King Joseph’s orders were being carried out, Wellesley and Cuesta found themselves, to their great surprise, unmolested by any hostile force. The army which had been in their front at Almaraz and Arzobispo disappeared on August 10, leaving only small detachments to watch the northern bank of the Tagus. It was soon reported to Wellesley that Victor had passed away towards Toledo, and that another corps—or perhaps two[729]—had retired to Plasencia. The object of this move however had to be determined, before the British general could take corresponding measures. Was Soult about to invade Portugal by way of Coria and Castello Branco, or was he merely taking up cantonments, from which he could observe the British and Estremaduran armies, while the King and Victor moved off against Venegas? On the whole Wellesley was inclined to believe that the latter hypothesis was the correct one, and that the enemy was about to ‘refuse’ his right wing, and to use his left for offensive action against the army of La Mancha. As was generally the case, his prescience was not at fault, and he had exactly divined the King’s intentions[730]. He had nevertheless to guard against the possibility that the other alternative might[p. 600] prove to be correct, and that Central Portugal was in danger—as indeed it would have been if Joseph had allowed Soult to carry out his original plan.
Wellesley resolved therefore to maintain his present position at Jaraicejo and Mirabete till he should be certain as to the intentions of the French. If they were really about to invade Portugal, he would march at once for Abrantes. If not, he would keep his ground, for by holding the passage at Almaraz he was threatening the French centre, and detaining in his front troops who would otherwise be free to attack the Spaniards either in La Mancha or in Leon.
Meanwhile measures had to be taken to provide a detaining force in front of Soult, lest an attack on Portugal should turn out to be in progress. This force was provided by bringing down Beresford and the Portuguese field army to Zarza and Alcantara, and sending up to their aid the British reinforcements which had landed at Lisbon during the month of July. Beresford, it will be remembered, had received orders at the commencement of the campaign directing him to concentrate his army behind Almeida, to link his operations with those of Del Parque and the Spanish force at Ciudad Rodrigo, but at the same time to be ready to transfer himself either northward or southward if his presence should be required on the Douro or the Tagus. In accordance with these instructions Beresford had collected thirty-two battalions of regular infantry, with one more from the Lusitanian Legion, and the University Volunteers of Coimbra, as also five squadrons from various cavalry regiments, and four batteries of artillery—a force of 18,000 men in all[731]. On July 31 he had crossed the Spanish frontier, and lay at San Felices and Villa de Cervo, near Ciudad Rodrigo. There he heard of Soult’s march from Salamanca towards Plasencia, and very properly made up his mind to bring his army down to Estremadura by a line parallel to that which the French had taken. He crossed the Sierra de Gata by the rough pass of Perales, and on August 12 fixed his head quarters at Moraleja,[p. 601] near Coria, on the southern slope of the mountains. His cavalry held Coria, while his right wing was in touch with the English brigades from Lisbon, which had just reached Zarza la Mayor. These were the seven battalions of Lightburne and Catlin Craufurd[732], which Wellesley had vainly hoped to receive in time for Talavera. They numbered 4,500 bayonets, and had with them one battery of British artillery.
Thus even before Soult reached Plasencia, there was an army of 18,000 Portuguese and 4,500 British on the lower Tietar, ready to act as a detaining force and to retard the Marshal’s advance, if he should make a serious attempt to invade Portugal. On Aug. 15, by Wellesley’s orders, Beresford left Moraleja and transferred his whole army to Zarza, in order to be able to fall back with perfect security on Castello Branco should circumstances so require. If he had remained at Moraleja he might have been cut off from the high-road to Abrantes by a sudden movement of the enemy on Coria[733].
Wellesley now felt comparatively safe, so far as matters strategical were concerned. If the enemy, contrary to his expectation, should march into Portugal, he could join Beresford at Abrantes, and stand at bay with some 24,000 British and 18,000 Portuguese regulars, a force sufficient to check the 30,000 men who was the utmost force that Soult could bring against him after Ney’s departure. Meanwhile, till the Marshal should move, he retained his old position at Mirabete and Jaraicejo. Though the French showed no signs of activity in his front, the weary fortnight during which the British army lay in position behind the Tagus were perhaps the most trying time that Wellesley spent during his first campaign in Spain. It was a period of absolute starvation for man and beast, and the army was going to pieces under his eyes. Ever since the British had arrived in front of Talavera on July 22, rations as we have already seen had been scanty and irregular. But the fourteen days spent at Deleytosa and Jaraicejo were even worse than those which had preceded them. The stores collected at Plasencia had been captured by the French: those gathered at Abrantes were so far distant that they could not be[p. 602] drawn upon, now that the high-road north of the Tagus had been cut by the enemy. The army had to live miserably on what it could wring out of the country-side, which Victor two months before had stripped to the very bones. Wellesley had hoped to be fed by the Spanish Government, when he threw up his line of communication with Abrantes, and took up that with Badajoz. But the Spanish Government was a broken reed on which to lean: if it fed its own armies most imperfectly, it was hardly to be expected that it would deal more liberally with its allies. The trifling stores brought from Talavera had long been exhausted: the country-side had been eaten bare: from the South very little could be procured. The Spanish Commissary-General Lozano de Torres[734] occasionally sent up a small consignment of flour from Caceres and Truxillo, but it did not suffice to give the army even half-rations. It was to no purpose that at Abrantes provisions abounded at this moment, for there was no means of getting them forward from Portugal[735]. The enemy lay between the army and its base dép?t, and there was no transport available to bring up the food by the circuitous route of Villa Velha and Portalegre. Even so early as August 8 Wellesley began to write that ‘a starving army is actually worse than none. The soldiers lose their discipline and their spirit. They plunder in the very presence of their officers. The officers are discontented, and almost as bad as the men. With the army that a fortnight ago beat double their numbers, I should now hesitate to meet a French corps of half that strength.’ On the eleventh he wrote to warn Cuesta that unless he was provided with food of some sort he should remain no longer in his advanced position, but fall back towards Badajoz, whatever might be the consequences. ‘It is impossible,’ he[p. 603] stated, ‘for me to remain any longer in a country in which no arrangement has been made for the supply of provisions to the troops, and in which all the provisions that are either found in the country or are sent from Seville (as I have been informed for the use of the British army) are applied solely and exclusively to the use of the Spanish troops[736].’
The Junta sent Wellesley a letter of high-flown praise for his doings at Talavera, a present of horses, and a commission as Captain-General in their army. But food they did not send in any sufficient quantities. All the convoys that came up from Andalusia were made over to Cuesta’s army, and the Estremaduran districts which were supposed to be allotted for the sustenance of the British had little or nothing to give. When we remember that in June Victor had described this same region as absolutely exhausted and incapable of furnishing the 1st Corps with even five days’ supplies, we shall not wonder that Wellesley’s troops starved there in August. It was impossible however to convince the British general that the suffering of his men were the result of Spanish penury rather than of Spanish negligence and bad faith. There was much just foundation for his complaints, for the Junta, after so many promises, had sent him no train from Andalusia. Moreover detachments and marauding bands from Cuesta’s army frequently intercepted the small supplies of food which British foraging parties were able to procure[737]. When taxed with their misdoings, Cuesta replied that Wellesley’s men had not unfrequently seized and plundered his own convoys, which was undoubtedly true[738], and that the British soldiers were enjoying such abundance that he had been told that some of them were actually selling their bread-ration to the Spaniards because they had no need of it—which was most certainly false[739].
That Wellesley was using no exaggerated terms, when he[p. 604] declared that his army was literally perishing for want of food, is proved by the narratives of a score of British officers who were present in the Talavera campaign[740]. That his ultimate retreat was caused by nothing but the necessity of saving his men is perfectly clear. The strategical advantage of maintaining the position behind the Almaraz passage was so evident, and the political disadvantages of withdrawing were so obvious, that a man of Wellesley’s keen insight into the facts of war must have desired to hold on as long as was possible. Unless Soult were actually attacking Portugal, Mirabete and Jaraicejo afforded the best ground that could be selected for ‘containing’ and imposing upon the enemy. So long as the British army lay there it was practically unassailable from the front, while it was admirably placed for the purpose of making an irruption into the midst of the enemy’s lines, if he should disperse his corps in search of food, or detach large forces towards La Mancha or Leon. ‘If I could only have fed,’ wrote Wellesley, ‘I could, after some time, have struck a brilliant blow either upon Soult at Plasencia, or upon Mortier in the centre[741]. It is clear that by a dash across the Almaraz passage he could have fallen upon either of these forces, and assailed it with good hope of success before it could be succoured by the other. But such a venture was impossible to an army which had lost one-third of its cavalry horses from starvation within three weeks, and whose battalions were brought so low by physical exhaustion that few of them could be relied upon to march ten miles in a day.
Wellesley declared that, having once linked his fortunes to those of the Spanish army of Estremadura, he had considered himself bound to co-operate with it as long as was humanly speaking possible, and implicit credit may be given to his assertion[742]. The limit of physical endurance, however, was reached[p. 605] on August 20, the day on which he was finally compelled to commence his retreat in the direction of Truxillo and Badajoz.
Before that day arrived one event occurred which seemed to make useful co-operation between the two allied armies more feasible than it had been at any date since the campaign began. On the night of August 12-13 Cuesta, whose health had been steadily growing worse since the injuries that he had received at Medellin, was disabled by a paralytic stroke which deprived him of the use of one of his legs. He resigned on the following day, and was succeeded by his second-in-command Eguia, an officer whose conciliatory manners and mild disposition promised to make communication between the head quarters of the two allied armies comparatively friendly. Cuesta, after receiving from the Central Junta a letter of recall couched in the most flattering terms, retired to the baths of Alhama. When he had somewhat recovered his strength, he turned his energies to writing a long vindication of his whole conduct in 1809, and then engaged in a furious controversy with Venegas, concerning the latter’s disobedience of orders in July. Engaged in these harmless pursuits he ceased to be a source of danger to his country. Unfortunately his removal from the theatre of war was not of such benefit to the common cause as might have been hoped. The Junta found ere long a general just as rash and incapable, if not quite so old, to whom to entrust the command of its largest army. Juan Carlos Areizaga, the vanquished of Oca?a, was entirely worthy to be the spiritual heir of Cuesta’s policy.
But for the present General Eguia was for some weeks in charge of the Army of Estremadura. His first idea was to persuade Wellesley to postpone his departure, and to retain his advanced position. He urged this request upon his colleague with more zeal than tact, and to no good effect. By using in one of his dispatches the phrase that other considerations besides the want of food must be determining the movements of the British army[743], he roused Wellesley’s wrath. The famine was[p. 606] so real that any insinuation that it was a mere pretext for retreat was certainly calculated to wound the general whose troops were perishing before his eyes. Expressing deep indignation[744] Wellesley refused to listen to a proposal that he should divide with the Estremadurans the stores of food at Truxillo—which indeed were hopelessly inadequate for the sustenance of two armies. Nor would he even accept an offer made him on August 20 by Lorenzo Calvo de Rozas, who came in haste from the Central Junta, to the effect that he might appropriate the whole of the magazine at Truxillo, leaving the Spanish army to provide for itself from other resources. The proposal was probably honest and genuine, but Wellesley knew the dilatory habits of the Junta so well that he was convinced that the dép?t made over to him would never be properly replenished, and would soon run dry[745].
Marching therefore by short stages, for the exhaustion of his troops made rapid progress impossible[746], he started from Jaraicejo on August 20, and moved by Truxillo and Miajadas to the valley of the Guadiana, where he cantoned the army about[p. 607] Merida, Montijo, and Badajoz. The British head quarters were fixed at the last-named place from September 3 till December 27, 1809, and, excepting for some small changes in detail, the army retained the position which it had now taken up for nearly four months. In the fertile region along the Guadiana the troops were fed without much trouble: but they did not recover the health that they had lost in the time of starvation among the barren hills behind Arzobispo and Mirabete. In spite of the junction of reinforcements and the return of convalescents to the ranks, the army could never show more than from 23,000 to 25,000 men under arms during the autumn months. When the rainy season began, the intermittent ague which was known to the British as ‘Guadiana fever’ was never absent: it did not often kill, but it disabled men by the thousand, and it was not till Wellesley moved back into Portugal at midwinter that the regiments recovered their normal health.
If he had been free to follow his personal inclination, it is probable that Wellesley would have moved back into Portugal in September. But strategical and political reasons made this impossible. While based on Badajoz he still threatened the French hold on the valley of the Tagus, and compelled the King to keep two army corps at least in his front. Since it was always possible that he might return to Almaraz and threaten Madrid, a containing force had to be told off against him. He was also in a position from which he could easily sally out to check raids upon Portugal: from Badajoz he could either join Beresford in a few marches, or fall by Alcantara upon the flank of any detachment that Soult might lead forward in the direction of Castello Branco and Abrantes. He was convinced that no such raids would be made, but their possibility had to be taken into consideration, and while lying in his present cantonments he was well placed for frustrating them. But political considerations were even more powerful than military considerations in chaining him to Badajoz. The Junta at Seville were most anxious to keep the British army in their front: they were convinced that, if it retired on Portugal, Joseph and Soult would at once organize an invasion of Andalusia, and they were well aware that Eguia and Venegas would not suffice to hold back the 70,000 men who might then be directed against[p. 608] them. In the dispatches which the Marquis Wellesley (who had superseded Frere at Seville on August 11) kept sending to his brother, the main fact conveyed was the absolute despair with which the Spanish Government viewed the prospect of the removal of their allies towards Portugal. ‘Don Martin de Garay [the secretary to the Junta] declared to me with expressions of the deepest sorrow and terror’—wrote the Marquis on August 22—‘that if your army should quit Spain, at this critical moment, inevitable and immediate ruin must ensue to his government, to whatever provinces remain under its authority, to the cause of Spain itself, and to every interest connected with the alliance so happily established between Great Britain and the Spanish nation.... No argument produced the effect of diminishing the urgency of his entreaties, and I have ascertained that his sensations are in no degree more powerful than those of the Government and of every description of people within this city and its vicinity.... Viewing the painful consequences that would follow your retreat into Portugal, I feel it my duty to submit to your consideration the possibility of adopting some intermediate plan, which may have some of the advantages of retreat into Portugal, without occasioning alarm in Spain, and so endangering the foundations of the alliance between that country and Great Britain[747].’
A stay at Badajoz was obviously the only ‘intermediate plan’ that was worth taking into consideration; and considering the urgency of his brother’s representations Wellesley could not refuse to halt within the Spanish border. The military advantages of the position that he had now taken up were not inconsiderable, and no profit that could have been got by returning into Portugal could have counterbalanced the loss of the Spanish alliance. In the valley of the Central Guadiana, therefore, the British army remained cantoned. But no arguments that the Junta could produce availed to persuade Wellesley to engage in another campaign with a Spanish colleague at his side. Not even when the tempting offer was made that Albuquerque should be given command of half of the Estremaduran army, and placed under his orders, would he consent to pledge himself to offensive operations.
[p. 609]
Meanwhile, dispatches had arrived from England, containing the official news that the Austrian War was at an end: rumours to that effect had already reached the British camps from French sources before Wellesley left Oropesa[748]. The whole character of the continental struggle was changed by the fact that the Emperor had once more the power to send reinforcements to Spain, or even to go there himself. The situation required further consideration, and the British Government resolved to place upon Wellesley’s shoulders the all-important task of deciding whether the struggle in the Peninsula could still be maintained, and how (in the event of his giving an affirmative answer) it could best be carried on[749]. He replied that in the existing state of affairs, and considering the bad state of the Spanish armies, neither 30,000 nor even 40,000 British troops would suffice to maintain Andalusia against the unlimited numbers of French whom the Emperor could now send across the Pyrenees. But he held that Portugal might be defended with success, if the Portuguese army and militia could be com[p. 610]pleted to their full strength, and the country well organized for resistance. It was probable that the borders of Portugal could not be maintained; ‘the whole country is frontier, and it would be difficult to prevent the enemy from penetrating by some point or other.’ He would have therefore ‘to confine himself to preserving what is most important,—the capital.’ But this he was prepared to undertake, and strongly advised the ministry to make no attempt to defend both Andalusia and Portugal, but to leave the Junta to their own vain devices, and to make sure of Lisbon[750].
Thus, in September 1809 Wellesley enunciated with great clearness the policy that he was about to employ in the next year. The lines of Torres Vedras are already hovering before his imagination, and after a flying visit to Lisbon in October they took definite shape in his ‘Memorandum for Colonel Fletcher’ of the twentieth of that month. In that document the whole project for defending the Portuguese capital by a series of concentric fortifications is set forth, and the modifications which it afterwards suffered were only in matters of detail. In short the Lines which were to check Masséna had been thought out in the British general’s provident mind exactly twelve months before the French army appeared in front of them.
In following the fortunes of Wellesley we have now got far beyond the point to which we have conducted the general history of the Talavera campaign. It is time to turn back to the movements of Soult and King Joseph, and to explain the reasons which made it possible for the British army to remain unmolested at Jaraicejo and Mirabete till August 20, and then to retire to Merida and Badajoz without imperilling the safety of their Estremaduran allies.
The King, as we have already seen, had made up his mind that the all-important point, at this stage of the campaign, was to make an end of the army of Venegas, and to relieve Madrid[p. 611] from danger. He had therefore called Victor towards Toledo, and directed Mortier to relieve the divisions of the 1st Corps which lay at Talavera with troops from the 5th Corps. The result of this movement was to leave Soult too weak to undertake any important operations against Portugal. For Mortier’s men, being strung out on the long line from Talavera to Navalmoral, with both Wellesley’s and Cuesta’s armies in their front, could not be relied upon to lend aid for an advance on Castello Branco or Abrantes. The Duke of Dalmatia therefore, when he had reached Plasencia, could dispose of nothing but his own 2nd Corps and Lahoussaye’s four regiments of dragoons. He dared not march on Portugal with no more than 20,000 men, when the allies had it in their power to fall upon Mortier the moment that his back was turned. Accordingly he waited at Plasencia, sending out cavalry to Coria and Torejoncillo, but did nothing more. Meanwhile Beresford and the two British brigades from Lisbon were drawing near him, and on August 16 the Portuguese cavalry, advancing from the pass of Perales and Moraleja, drove out the two French squadrons which were occupying Coria, and thus warned Soult that a new army was coming into play against him. Two days later Beresford had transferred himself to the Castello Branco road, and a force of 23,000 men had been thrown between the 2nd Corps and the Portuguese frontier.
Meanwhile the King had met with unexpected good fortune in his attack on Venegas. On August 5 he had set out from Valdemoro with the intention of attacking the army of La Mancha in its position at Aranjuez. It seemed unlikely that he would find it there, for Venegas had displayed such excessive caution in his advance from the Sierra Morena to the Tagus, and had so tamely refused to take his opportunity of pouncing upon Madrid, that it seemed probable that he would retreat at the first sign of the King’s approach. But rushing to the opposite extreme of conduct, the Spanish general was now ready to court destruction. He had received on the preceding night, that of August 4, Cuesta’s dispatch of the third, informing him that Soult had crossed the mountains and that both the British and the Estremaduran armies were quitting Talavera. The Captain-General warned him that he might expect an attack from the King’s army, and ordered him to avoid an action, and to fall back[p. 612] towards the Despe?a Perros if he were pressed. Serenely putting aside the orders of Cuesta, Venegas refused to retreat, and announced that he should not copy the conduct of a superior who had fled even before the enemy was in sight. He announced his intention of fighting, and directed his army to concentrate in the neighbourhood of Aranjuez. Of his five divisions, three were holding that town when the French came in sight; the other two were écheloned between Aranjuez and Tembleque, apparently in order to watch the roads from Toledo and A?over. The enemy might, as Venegas saw, turn his flank either by crossing the bridges of the former place, or by passing the easy ford at the latter. A detachment of 800 men had been left to watch the debouches from Toledo, and a couple of battalions observed the ford of A?over.
King Joseph meanwhile, marching with a force composed of Sebastiani’s corps, the Central Reserve, and Milhaud’s division of dragoons, arrived in front of Aranjuez on August 5. Sebastiani, whose troops led the advance, drove in the Spanish outposts, who retired across the Tagus and broke the town bridge behind them. But beyond the river the greater part of the army of La Mancha was visible in battle order, prepared to receive the attack: Venegas himself, however, chanced to be absent at the moment, as he had ridden over that morning to visit his left wing, and General Giron was in temporary charge of the defence. Sebastiani risked an attack on the Spanish position, which was accessible by means of two fords. But finding that the enemy was in great force and stood firm, he drew off his men after a sharp skirmish.
King Joseph now determined not to press the attack on Aranjuez and its fords, but to cross the Tagus at points where he could secure a less difficult passage. He countermarched Sebastiani’s corps to the bridge of Toledo, and gave Milhaud orders to force the ford of A?over. This man?uvre cost him three days; it was only on the evening of August 8 that he succeeded in concentrating his main body at Toledo. On the following morning Sebastiani passed the bridges and drove off the Spanish detachment that was observing them: it fell back on a larger force, and the 4th Corps pressing its advance, came into contact with a whole hostile division.
[p. 613]
Venegas had not failed to guess the plan which the King would adopt, and had moved off from Aranjuez towards Toledo, by roads parallel to those which the French had employed. His 5th division, 4,000 bayonets, under Major-General Zerain, was in front, and thus was the first to meet Sebastiani’s attack. It was driven in after a sharp skirmish, and retired a few miles to the small town of Almonacid, on the high-road to Mora and Madridejos. On the same evening Milhaud’s dragoons assailed the ford of A?over, drove off the small force that was guarding it, and fell into line on Sebastiani’s left flank. On the next morning Venegas came up with his remaining four divisions, those of Lacy, Vigodet, Giron, and Castejon, and joined Zerain at Almonacid. Thus both sides were concentrated for battle, save that Joseph and his reserves, owing to the delay caused by a defile over the narrow bridge of Toledo, were some ten miles to the rear of Sebastiani. The Spanish army, after the deduction of men in hospital or detached, amounted to about 23,000 men, of whom nearly 3,000 were horse: it had forty guns. The King and Sebastiani had some 21,000 sabres and bayonets, but of these nearly 4,000 were cavalry, so that the French army enjoyed its usual preponderance in that arm, in numbers no less than in efficiency. Two of its infantry divisions, those of Leval and Sebastiani, had suffered heavily at Talavera: the rest of the infantry—Valence’s Poles and the King’s guards and reserves—had not been engaged in that battle; all the cavalry was equally intact[751].
Both armies were prepared to fight: King Joseph had resolved that Madrid would never be safe till the army of La Mancha had been beaten. Venegas was eager to meet him: he had persuaded himself that the French troops which had passed the bridge of Toledo did not amount to more than 14,000 men, and hoped for an easy victory. He held a council of war on the night of the tenth, and found his subordinates as ready to fight as himself. They determined to attack Sebastiani on the dawn[p. 614] of August 12, and the Commander-in-chief exclaimed with exultation that, whatever other Spanish officers might do, he at least would never earn the nickname of El General Retiradas[752].
The French, however, anticipated Venegas, for on the morning of August 11, at half-past five o’clock, Sebastiani presented himself in front of the Spanish position and opened a furious attack, without waiting for the arrival of King Joseph and the reserve. The army of La Mancha had therefore to fight a defensive engagement, and never got the chance of carrying out the ambitious designs of its chief.
The battle-field of Almonacid bears a strong resemblance to that of Ucles, where Venegas six months before had made such a deplorable début in the character of a ‘fighting general.’ As at Ucles, the Spanish army was arrayed on a series of eminences on each side of a small town, with a long array of infantry and guns in its centre, and the cavalry on the wings. As if to emphasize the resemblance, Venegas committed his old fault of keeping no adequate reserve in hand, and distributed his whole force in one thin line, with no more than four battalions and two cavalry regiments drawn up in support to the rear of the centre! The only points in which there was a marked difference between Ucles and Almonacid was that on the latter field the eminence on the Spanish left—a hill called Los Cerrojones—was so much higher than the rest of the ground that it formed the key of the position, just as the Cerro de Medellin had done at Talavera. Moreover, there was a long hill behind Almonacid—the Cerro del Castillo—which gave an admirable rallying-point for the army if it should be forced out of its first fighting-ground.
The main line of the Spanish order of battle was formed, counting from right to left, by the divisions of Vigodet (no. 2), Castejon (no. 4), Zerain (no. 5), and Lacy (no. 1), with a brigade of the division of Giron (no. 3) continuing the array on to the Cerrojones. The second brigade of Giron formed the sole[p. 615] reserve; it was drawn up on the Cerro del Castillo, where the ruins of the mediaeval fort that gave the hill its name were turned to account as a place of strength. It had two cavalry regiments in its rear: the rest of the troops of that arm were distributed between the two flanks.
When Sebastiani came upon the field he fell upon the Spanish line without a moment’s hesitation. Apparently he thought that delay would only give the enemy time to rearrange his troops and strengthen his weak points. At any rate he did not wait for the arrival of the King and the reserve, but attacked at once. It was the same fault that Victor had committed at Talavera, but Sebastiani was not destined to receive the condign punishment that befell the Duke of Belluno. Noting that the steep hill on the Spanish left was the key of the position, he resolved to storm it before attacking the rest of the hostile line. Accordingly he threw out Milhaud’s dragoons and his own French division to ‘contain’ the Spanish centre and right, while Leval’s Germans and Valence’s Poles were directed to assail the Cerrojones. The former division turned the flank of the hill, while the latter attacked it in front.
The Spanish brigade on the hill made a stubborn resistance, and even held back the Poles till its flank was turned by the Germans. Venegas sent to its aid his miserably inadequate reserve under Giron, and some battalions drawn from the first division. But these troops came too late, the Cerrojones were lost, and the reinforcements only succeeded in checking the French advance behind the hill, on the slopes between it and Almonacid. The key of the position was thus in Sebastiani’s hands, and, seeing the Spanish centre outflanked, he let loose upon it his French division, which drove in Lacy and Zerain, and captured the town of Almonacid and three guns. Venegas was thus forced to draw back his whole line, and re-formed it on the Cerro del Castillo, which lay behind his original position. The troops were much disordered by this retrograde movement, yet made a very creditable effort to maintain their new ground. But King Joseph and the reserve had now come on the field, and Dessolles’ troops were thrown into the front line to aid the infantry of the 4th Corps. After a stubborn fight the Spanish left and centre again broke, and Venegas was only able to save[p. 616] them from complete destruction by bringing up Vigodet’s division, which was almost intact, and throwing it in the way of the advancing enemy. It held out long enough to allow the main body to escape, and then followed its comrades in retreat down the high-road to Mora and Madridejos. The French cavalry was let loose in pursuit, but does not seem to have been so successful in its work as had been the case at Ucles and Medellin. At any rate the bulk of the Spaniards escaped in more or less order, and only the stragglers were cut up.
The losses of Venegas’s army would appear to have been about 800 killed and 2,500 wounded[753], besides a considerable number of prisoners—perhaps 2,000 in all, for Sebastiani’s dispatch giving the figure of 4,000 cannot be trusted. The army of La Mancha had also lost twenty-one of its forty guns, all its baggage and several standards. Still the defeat was far less crushing than Medellin had been, and the whole army was rallied at the passes with no great difficulty. It had fought very creditably, as is sufficiently vouched for by the fact that Sebastiani acknowledged a loss of 319 killed and 2,075 wounded. The Polish division in especial had suffered very severely while storming the Cerrojones at the opening of the combat.
Thus ended the part taken by the Army of La Mancha in the Talavera campaign. No words are too strong to use in condemnation of Venegas’s conduct. After wrecking the plan of campaign drawn up by Wellesley and Cuesta by his criminal slackness and timidity in July, he then proceeded to the extreme of culpable rashness. He had ample time to retire to the South, when his position was compromised by the departure of the British and Estremaduran armies from Talavera. Instead of doing so he remained behind, and courted an unnecessary battle, in which his unskilful dispositions secured the defeat of an army which tried to do its duty and defended itself far better than could have been expected. He should have been court-martialled and shot for his repeated and impudent disobedience of Cuesta’s orders. But the Junta, conscious that they were themselves to blame for giving him secret directions which clashed with those of the Commander-in-chief, spared him, and only removed him[p. 617] from command some weeks later, in order to replace him by Areizaga, an officer of exactly the same level of merit and intelligence.
After his—or rather Sebastiani’s—victory at Almonacid King Joseph established the 4th Corps in cantonments around Toledo and Aranjuez, and sent Victor and the 1st Corps into La Mancha to observe the passes and to contain the wrecks of Venegas’s army. He returned himself with his guards and the reserve to Madrid on August 15, celebrated a Te Deum, and published an extravagant account of his own achievements, in which he claimed to have discomfited the attempt of 120,000 enemies (there were but 80,000 at the most liberal estimate) with the aid of 40,000 invincible French troops. The co-operation of Soult’s 50,000 men was consigned to oblivion in this extraordinary document.
The moment that he heard of the defeat of Venegas, Soult wrote to the King, renewing the demand which he had made ten days before for permission to invade Portugal. Now that the army of La Mancha had been disposed of, he considered that Victor might come back to Talavera and Almaraz, so as to set free Mortier and the 5th Corps for the attack on Portugal. He also suggested that Ney, having put things right at Salamanca, might now be recalled to the valley of the Tagus, and rejoin the 2nd and 5th Corps. He supported his demands by an unfounded assertion that Wellesley was on his march to unite with Beresford by way of Alcantara, and asked for leave to attack the latter before the main British army should have joined him. In a few days more, he said, it would be too late to move, for Beresford and Wellesley would have concentrated their forces, so that he would have 45,000 Anglo-Portuguese in his front[754].
Joseph refused to listen to these arguments, and had fair reasons to show for his negative reply to the Marshal’s requests. Wellesley, as he truly remarked, was not marching for Alcantara to join Beresford: he was still at Jaraicejo in close touch with the Estremaduran army. If Mortier were removed to the Portuguese border, Wellesley and Eguia might descend upon Victor and crush him. It was impossible to leave less than two corps to defend the Middle Tagus. As for Ney, he could not[p. 618] quit Leon, for Del Parque and the Galicians were concentrating in great force upon his front. Indeed, he had just written to request that the 2nd Corps might be moved up to Salamanca to support him[755]. It was not now the time to engage in further offensive operations either against Portugal or against Andalusia. The troops were exhausted; the hospital of Madrid contained at the moment 12,000 sick and wounded, the cavalry was so distressed by incessant work that few regiments could put 250 men in line. The transport was worn out, and new horses and mules were impossible to procure, for the King had no money with which to purchase them. Finally, and this was the most conclusive point of all, orders had been received from the Emperor countermanding all active operations till the hot season should be over[756]. It was impossible to say what his intentions might be, now that he was freed from the Austrian War. He might come himself to Spain, or he might send large reinforcements to the King. In any case it would be impossible to move till his will was known and his mind made up[757].
These arguments were conclusive, and Soult was forced to remain quiescent: all that he could do was to push small parties to Zarza and Coria when Beresford had evacuated those places.
Thus the Talavera campaign came to an end. There was now a long pause in the movements both of the allies and of the French. The subsequent fighting in October belongs to a totally independent series of operations. The combatants who had been engaged in July and August rested in September: Soult was left at Plasencia, Mortier at Talavera and Navalmoral, Ney at Salamanca; Victor’s head quarters were at Daymiel in La Mancha, Sebastiani lay along the Tagus from Aranjuez to Toledo. Of the allied troops Wellesley’s army was cantoned about Badajoz and Merida. The Estremadurans under Eguia covered the passages of the Tagus from Deleytosa, Jaraicejo, and Truxillo: Venegas was reorganizing his depleted corps at his old quarters in the passes by La Carolina. Beresford was observing Soult from Castello Branco, and lastly, the Galicians were moving down by divisions to join Del Parque’s[p. 619] forces at Ciudad Rodrigo, where a formidable army was now beginning to be collected.
The Talavera campaign, in short, had settled nothing. The attempt of the allies to capture Madrid had failed, but the attempt of the French to surround Wellesley and Cuesta by Soult’s flank march had failed also. Looking to the net results of all the fighting since May, it could be said that the balance of loss stood against the French. They had abandoned Galicia and the Asturias, as well as their precarious hold on Northern Portugal. They had gained nothing, save that their forces were concentrated in a good central position, instead of being scattered from Corunna and Oporto as far as Merida and Manzanares. The next move was in the hands of the Emperor: it remained to be seen how he would deal with the situation in the Peninsula, now that he, at last, had time to study it in detail.
Before passing on to the new series of operations which took place in the late autumn, one minor side-issue of the Talavera campaign remains to be narrated—the fate of the small roving column of 4,000 Spaniards and Portuguese under Sir Robert Wilson, which had been threatening Madrid in the King’s absence, and which had caused so many misgivings in the mind of Marshal Victor. Wilson’s doings were to give one more proof of his extraordinary resourcefulness and vigour, if any further evidence were needed after his masterly handling of Lapisse in the spring. It will be remembered that on August 4 he had slipped away from Escalona, on hearing from Wellesley that Soult had descended upon Plasencia. He intended to join the main army at Talavera, but on nearing that place discovered that it had already been evacuated, and that both the British and the Estremaduran armies had disappeared in the direction of Oropesa. Accordingly he directed his steps to the westward, hoping to overtake Wellesley on his march. On his way, however, he was caught up by Villatte’s division of Victor’s corps, which had been vainly hunting for him at Nombella and Escalona since the fifth. Thrown out of his path by this force, Wilson turned up into the mountains, intending to escape by the northern bank of the Tietar. He soon learnt, however, from the peasantry that Soult had sent a brigade under Foy to look for him in the Vera of Plasencia, and that Hugo, the governor[p. 620] of Avila, had come down to hold against him the passes of Arenas and Monbeltran. Thus ringed around with foes, he did not lose his nerve, but turning up into the Sierra de Gredos, by a mule-path that leads from Aldea Nueva to the upper valley of the Alagon, escaped in the direction of Bejar. From thence he intended to strike across towards Portugal. But a new enemy now came upon him: he had evaded Villatte and Foy only to run into the arms of Ney, who on this day [August 12] was preparing to cross the Puerto de Ba?os on his way to Salamanca. There was still time to escape from the Marshal’s front and to retire to Ciudad Rodrigo unmolested. But Wilson saw the rocky defile of the Puerto in front of him, and could not resist the temptation of holding it against the enemy, though he was well aware that with a force of less than 4,000 men, destitute of artillery, he could not seriously hope to repulse a whole army corps. Nevertheless he offered battle in the pass, and fought a running fight for nine hours against Ney’s vanguard, defending three successive positions, from each of which he had to be expelled. In his last stand he held on too long, and allowed the enemy to close. His four battalions were all broken, and fled over the hills to Miranda de Casta?ar, where they rallied on the next day. The Marshal acknowledged in his dispatch to King Joseph a loss of five officers and thirty men killed, and ten officers and 140 men wounded, which shows that he had been forced to fight hard to clear the pass. He claimed to have ‘destroyed’ Wilson’s detachment, and declared that 1,200 Spaniards and Portuguese had fallen. But Wilson’s returns show that his total loss, killed, wounded, and missing, was under 400, among whom there was not a single field officer or captain. Having assuaged his thirst for a fight by this gallant, if unnecessary, engagement, Wilson escaped to the Pass of Perales, and finally reached Castello Branco on August 24, where he fell in with Beresford, and was at last in safety, after his many wanderings among the summits of the Sierra de Gredos and the Sierra de Gata. This hazardous march was his last achievement in the Peninsula; after a bitter quarrel with Beresford concerning the status of his Lusitanian Legion in the Portuguese army, he sailed for England in October, and never returned to Portugal.
The End