SOME days after Madrid surrendered, while our regiment was quartered at Cevolla on the Tagus, I received orders to carry an open despatch to Marshal Lefevre from General Lasalle, who lay in our front at Talavera. Marshal Lefevre was to read the despatch, and then forward it to the Prince of Neufchatel. At Maqueda I met Marshal Lefevre, as the sun went down, just arriving from Casa Rubios. To spare his own aides-de-camp, he commanded me to prosecute the journey myself, and deliver, at the Imperial quarters, the letters I had in charge. Requiring to ride post, I mounted a requisition-mule, which the staff-major made the Alcaid of the place provide for me.
I was soon on my way, in a dismal night, on a huge obstinate mule, whose mane somebody had shorn preceded by a Spanish peasant, on a mule ‘that matched my own. When we had gone about a league, my guide allowed himself to fall, and his beast started off at the gallop, to return, I suppose, to the village. Thinking the poor fellow had fainted by the violence of his fall, I alighted to render him assistance. In vain I sought for him, where I imagined he had fallen; the rogue had slipped into the thick brushwood, and disappeared. I got on my mile again, not too sure of my road; The wicked animal, no longer hearing its companion, would now go neither one way nor another. The more I spurred him, the more he kicked, My blows, abuses, and French menaces, only enraged him. I did not know his name, and was not then even aware that every Spanish mule has one; or that to make. .any progress, I should have said, "Get on, mule; go on, Captain; get along, Arragonese," &c. Dismounting, to tighten the girth of my wooden saddle, the passionate animal reared, struck me on the breast a blow which knocked me to the ground, and then turned into a side-path. As soon as I recovered, I pursued him with all my might, directed by the noise my stirrups made on the stones, my saddle having turned round. After running half a league I found my saddle, from which the mule had disencumbered himself. I took it on my back, and soon after entered a large village, where the van-guard of one of Lefevre s brigades had arrived. I made the Alcaid give me a horse, and again took the road, with especial care to keep close to my guide.
There was no French garrison in the place ‘where I next changed horses. The master of the post-house, a lively, fresh old man, opened the door to me himself. He awoke a postilion, and directed him to saddle an old horse, whose crooked forelegs could scarcely bear his weight. I uttered some threats against the postmaster, and, raising my voice, signified which horse I wished to ride. The old fellow was not to be frightened; but, with a mildness which allayed my passion in a moment, took me by the hand, and, making a sign to be silent, he showed me thirty or forty peasants asleep among a heap of chopped straw, at the other cud of the stable. I took the benefit of his advice and mounted the horse, bad as it was, without a word; admiring the generous feeling this little action displayed, and musing on the countless difficulties of the situation, to which we were subjected by Spanish hatred, even now when we were every where victorious.
I reached the Imperial quarters at Chamartin by one o'clock next morning. One of his aides-de-camp awoke the Prince of Neufchatel. I delivered my letters to him, and, at eleven the same night, was sent back to my own corps, with new despatches for Marshal Victor. It was morning when I arrived at Aranjuez. The commandant of the place advised me to delay my journey to Toledo, for the march of a detachment going thither. The director of the posts of the first corps, having preceded his convoy but a few minutes, had been butchered on the road the evening before. But as I was instructed to expedite my orders without delay, I continued my journey, mounted on a requisition-poney. Being alone, I was compelled to discharge myself the duties of rear-guard, van-guard, and flank, galloping up the heights, and keeping a constant look out, that I might not be taken by surprise. The wild horses of the royal stud, with the deer and stags, in herds of from fifty to sixty, fled as I approached.
Some leagues beyond Aranjuez, I observed two peasants at a distance, who had bound a soldier, and were dragging him into the brushwood, to put him to death. With the full speed of my horse, I rode towards them, and happily arrived in time to rescue the unfortunate prisoner. He proved to be a foot-soldier, who had left Aranjuez hospital the day before. Overpowered with fatigue, he had sat down to recover himself, whilst his comrades continued their march. I escorted him to his detachment, which had halted not far distant, and proceeded on my way.
Nothing can exceed the horrible sight I next beheld. At every step I stumbled over the disfigured bodies of Frenchmen, recently murdered, and bloody shreds of their garments. The still vivid marks in the sand, declared how some of these hapless beings must have wrestled, and the prolonged torments they must have endured, before they expired. The copper-plates of their caps, scattered around, could alone show that they had been soldiers, or to what regiments they belonged. Those who had thus attacked the French on the Toledo road, were the keepers of the Royal stud, and sense peasants who had abandoned their villages on the arrival of our troops. They had acquired a high degree of barbarity by their vagabond and solitary way of living.
I had delivered my despatches to Marshal Victor at Toledo, and was returned to my regiment, the day before it went to garrison Madrid.
The Spaniards of the plains of Castile were already recovering from the temporary dread occasioned by our arrival. The inhabitants of the places we occupied, had retired to the mountains and woods with their wives and infants. They espied from thence all our movements, and lay in ambush near our principal routes, to intercept our couriers and our orders; or to assault unexpectedly such of our detachments as they believed were weaker than themselves.
Not a day passed, without bringing us disastrous intelligence of some of the small parties left behind to preserve our communications. All our posts of correspondence, stationed in our rear as in Germany, consisting of only nine or fifteen men, were annihilated.
The Spanish Junta had retired to Merida, and from thence had gone to Seville. It then sent orders to the Alcaids and clergy, even of the places we occupied, to invite the soldiers of the Spanish militia to join their respective corps. These soldiers of their country, seeking to avoid our troops, travelled by night through unfrequented paths; and thus the dispersed Spanish armies constantly recovered from their disasters, with wonderful celerity and ease. When the army of Castanos arrived at Cuença after its defeat at Tudela, it was reduced to 9000 infantry and 2000 cavalry. One mouth afterwards, at the engagement of Ucles, the same army numbered more than 25,000 men. After the defeat of Genteel Blake at Espinosa, the Marquis of Romana could scarcely bring together 5000 soldiers in Galicia. By the beginning of December, he had 22,000 recruits around the city of Leon. Although the Spanish Junta was but a weak and powerless administration, it notwithstanding possessed considerable influence, when it acted in the path of the nation's choice. The operations, which were wholly spontaneous, were proportionally permanent. The Spanish generals, like their government, had ‘authority only when they acted with the approval of those they commanded. They could neither restrain their soldiers when conquerors, nor rally them when defeated; and these undisciplined bands bore their generals along with them, in the rush of their victory or flight. Their Spanish pride was so great, that they would never attribute their losses to their own inexperience, or the superior discipline of their enemies. Whenever they were beaten, they accused their commanders of treason. General St Juan was hanged by his soldiers at Talavera; General la Penna was supplanted by the divisions of Andalusia; and the Duke de l'Infantado was obliged to take the command of the army at Cuença.
The Spaniards were a religious and brave people, but devoid of military genius. They even hated and contemned every thing relating to troops of the line. They were thus in want of superior and subaltern officers, and all that constitutes a well regulated army. They regarded their present contest as a religious crusade against the French, for their country and their king. A red riband, with this inscription, "VINCER 0 MORIR PRO PATRIA ET PRO FERDINANDO SEPTIMO,"—"Conquer or die for our native land and Ferdinand VII.," was the only military distinction of the greater part of these citizen-soldiers. At the first summons, men, almost naked, repaired from every province to the great assemblies that they styled their armies. There, the ardent desire of conquest with which they were inspired, made them endure with admirable patience such privations as all the power of the severest discipline could never have compelled regular troops to undergo.
In general, the people of the provinces manifested much scepticism about the successes we obtained even when we were victorious. No Spaniard would give credit to the misfortunes of Spain, or believe she could be subdued. This sentiment, which animated every heart, rendered the nation invincible, in defiance of individual losses, and the frequent discomfiture of her armies.
The English entered Spain about the end of the yeas 1808. On the 14th of October, 13,000 soldiers, commanded by General Sir D. Baird, had disembarked at Corunna, and advanced by Lugo to Astorga Another army, under General Moore, Commander-in-chief of all the British forces, had marched from Lisbon on the 27th of the same month. It had arrived at Estremadura and the Castiles, by the routes of Almeida, Ciudad Rodrigo, Alcantara, and Merida. The division that marched by Merida had advanced on the 22d of November as far as the Escurial. All the English corps in the Peninsula were to unite at Salamanca and Valadolid, and reinforce the Spanish army before Burgos. When that army was dispersed, as well as General Blake s in the Asturias, General Sir D. Baird fell back from Astorga to Villa Franca. Afterwards, when the French marched upon Madrid, subsequently to the engagement at Tudela, General Moore recalled the division of the English which had advanced to the Escurial, and concentrated his army in the environs of Salamanca. The English armies in Spain remained nearly a month at Villa Franca and Salamanca, irresolute what course they should follow. They dared neither advance against the vast power of the French in front, nor retreat, from the fear of discouraging the people of Spain, and extinguishing the national spirit, which stilt survived in despite of the severest trials.
Some misunderstanding existed at this time between the English and Spaniards, and caused a want of concord in their military operations. The Spaniards, not considering that the English were only auxiliaries in their quarrel, reproached them at first for the tardiness of their marches, and afterwards for their inactivity. The English General, in his turn, accused the Spaniards of having uniformly dissembled their real condition and misfortunes, and having always exaggerated their powers of resistance. Like the French Commander, he misapprehended the Spanish character, and generally regarded as imbecility all that patriotism made a nation, devoid of military resources, believe, declare, and perform; strong, however, in their patriotic spirit, and indomitable from the very causes which made them gloss over their disasters.
The Spaniards even went so far as to believe that the English wished to abandon them to their fate. The French also, in accordance with the general opinion, believed that the English had no other intention but to re-embark at Lisbon or Corunna. Marshal Lefevre was even sent forward from Talavera, to menace the communications of General Moore, and oblige him hastily to descend the Tagus. General Soult, who had remained on the frontiers of the kingdom of Leon, also prepared to enter Galicia, and was to be reinforced by the corps of General Junot, which had arrived from France, and was advancing toward Burgos.
Whilst matters proceeded thus, intelligence was brought to the Imperial quarters at Chamartin, that at Rueda, one of the posts of General Franchesci had been carried on the 12th, and that detachments of English were scouring the country, even to the gates of Valladolid.
These were advanced parties of General Moore s army, which had left Salamanca on the 13th of December, and had passed the Douro to effect a junction with 13,000 English, whom General Sir D. Baird was bringing from Villa Franca. They had planned a combined attack, in conjunction with the Spanish troops of the Marquis de la Romana, against Marshal Soult, who, with 15,000 men, occupied the small towns of Guarda, Saldanna, and Sahagun, on the banks of the river Cea. A brigade of cavalry, under General Paget, on the 21st, attacked and defeated a regiment of French dragoons that Marshal Soult had left at Sahagun.
The Emperor Napoleon being informed of these movements of the English, commenced his march from Madrid on the 22d with his guards, and the corps of Marshal Ney, to cut off their retreat to Corunna. He arrived at Villa Castin on the 23d, at Tordesillas on the 25th, at Medina de Rio Seco on the 27th; and, on the morning of December 29th, his advanced guard, consisting of three squadrons of chasseurs à cheval, commanded by General Lefevre, came up with the English in Benevente.
General Lefevre, finding the bridge over the Esla destroyed, passed the river by the ford, and drove in the English out-posts to the very gates of the city. The General, borne along by the ardour of pursuit, omitted to draw off his chasseurs, or make his observations, and was suddenly attacked by the whole cavalry of the enemy. Our horse were compelled to repass the Esla, sixty men being wounded or dismounted, and their General a prisoner. Having gained the bank, they formed for the charge, and prepared to make a desperate effort to rescue their captive leader. But the English hastily brought up two pieces of light artillery near the broken bridge, and, opening a fire of grape-shot, made the French squadrons retire.
The Anglo-Spanish army had received advice of the Emperor Napoleon s march, just as they were meditating an attack on Marshal Soult, at the village of Carrion. On the 24th, they were retiring rapidly towards Astorga and Benevente, by Mayorga, Valencia, and Mancilla. They would most likely have been cut off from the passes of Galicia, if the French army had not been considerably obstructed in its march by the swollen torrents, and the snow lately fallen about the Sierra de Guadarama.
The Emperor Napoleon arrived on the 30th of December at Benevente, and having proceeded no farther than Astorga, returned on the 7th of January to Valladolid with his guards. A few days afterwards, he was in France, making preparations to march against Austria. Marshal Ney was left at Astorga, to secure the passes of Galicia, and organize the country. Marshal Soult continued the pursuit of General Moore s army towards Corunna. The English, in their retreat, left the country behind them a total desert, and the troops of Marshal Soult were every evening obliged to forage at great distances from the line of march, which greatly retarded their progress, and increased their fatigue. His advance guard, notwithstanding, came up with the enemy s rear at Villa Franca, and again at Lugo, but did not think themselves sufficiently strong to commence an attack. The French lost General Colbert of the cavalry, in a skirmish which happened before the former of these towns.
On the 16th, the English were obliged to engage before Corunna, previous to their embarkation. The battle was bloody, and keenly contested. At first the French gained ground, but towards evening the English recovered the commanding position which they had originally occupied, to cover the anchorage of their fleet. During the night, between the 16th and 17th, they embarked. General Moore was struck by a cannon-ball as he led back again to the charge a corps which had been repulsed. The army of the Marquis de la Romana had broken up among the mountains to the west of Astorga. Corunna, being a fortified town, was defended by its inhabitants, and did not surrender till the 29th by capitulation.
The English, in their retreat, endured all the hardships to which armies hotly pursued are exposed, when the toils of the soldiers have enraged them out of measure. Without having fought one pitched battle, they lost more than 8000 men, and almost all the horses of their cavalry.
One cannot well conceive what motives influenced General Moore to hazard the fate of his whole army by an expedition against the corps of Marshal Soult, the result of which every way could only be most doubtful. The Marshal could easily have fallen back on Burgos, and been reinforced by the troops of General Junot. General Moore, in marching to Saldanna, gave Napoleon an opportunity of attacking him with all his forces united, when the Emperor was preparing to return to France. He might have moved from Salamanca, to a position almost impregnable behind the bridge of Almarez on the Tagus, and reorganized the armies of Spain. This was what the French chiefly dreaded. In leaving Salamanca, General Moore ought at any rate to have retreated rather to Lisbon than Corunna, taking the shortest route, and leaving to Marshals Lefevre and Soult the most extended line of communications, to guard which they must have weakened themselves considerably, by posting detachments in their rear. He could thus also have enabled the troops of General de la Romana, and the peasants of Galicia and Portugal, frequently to harass the French in a desultory warfare. This latter operation has since been accomplished with the most complete Success, by General Sir A. Wellesley (now Duke of Wellington.)
It is affirmed that General Moore was deceived by false information, and that it was against his own opinion and contrary to his will, he was made to deviate on this occasion from the established rules of military science. Besides, it is an easy matter to judge of actions after they have happened; the difficulty of any undertaking consists in foreseeing its probable issue.
Whilst the corps of Marshal Soult was thus expelling the English from Galicia, the Spanish army of Andalusia was making various movements in advance of Cuença, by which Madrid seemed to be menaced. To oppose this Spanish force, commanded by the Duke de l'Infantado, Marshal Victor on the 10th of January left Toledo with the first corps of the army. For several days they advanced slowly in the neighbourhood of Ocana, without any intelligence of the enemy. Whether by chance, or from ignorance of the country, the French divisions found themselves on the morning of the 13th so entangled among the Spaniards, that so far from expecting to turn them, they themselves conceived they were surrounded.
The division of Villate first engaged with part of the enemy's force, drawn up in order of battle, on the top of a steep and lofty eminence. The Spaniards had more faith in the strength of their position than in the skill of their troops, most of whom were newly raised. But when they beheld the ardour and coolness with which the French under arms ascended the rocks, they fled after firing a single discharge. Near Alcazar they met in their retreat the division of Ruffin, which unexpectedly turned the enemy while it was only seeking for them. Some thousand Spaniards were forced to surrender; surprise and terror took possession of their whole army, and the different corps of which it was composed were thrown into complete disorder. Several of their columns endeavouring to escape, ran headlong on General Cenarmont's park of artillery, and were received by a discharge of grape-shot which compelled them to face-about. A piece of French artillery, the horses of which were exhausted, was met by the enemy's cavalry. They made way for it, and filed off in respectful silence on each side of the road. The French took more than 10,000 prisoners, and 40 pieces of cannon, which the Spaniards abandoned in their flight, if the dragoons of General Latour Maubourg had not been too fatigued for pursuit, the whole Spanish army must have fallen into our power.
On the 13th of January, the day on which the fight at Ucles happened, our regiment left Madrid for the purpose of rejoining the first corps d'armée. On the 14th we lay at Ocana. On the morning of the 15th, about three leagues from this town, we fell in with the Spanish prisoners taken at Ucles, who were going to Madrid. Some of these poor wretches expired from hunger; many of them sunk down exhausted with fatigue: and when they were unable to go farther, they were mercilessly shot. This sanguinary order was given in retaliation for the death of the French prisoners whom the Spaniards hanged. This inhuman conduct, unseasonably exercised against disarmed foes, whose helplessness entitled them to clemency, could on no account be justified by the necessity of reprisal. Besides, if the grand design of conquest be the lasting submission of the conquered, the measures, as impolitic as cruel, tend greatly to distance this desirable end. No doubt, the Spanish peasants were thus deterred from joining their armies. But the consequence of this was, that an ambuscade warfare succeeded regular battles, where our decided superiority of tactics would likely always have enabled us to triumph. Our clemency would thus have perfected the submission of those whom our arms had already half subdued. As it was, the French, with only 400,090 men, had to contend with twelve millions of people inflamed with hatred, despair, and revenge.
Our attention was particularly attracted by one of these unhappy Spaniards. He was lying on his back, mortally wounded. We saw, from his long black mustachios, intermingled with gray hairs, and his uniform, that he was a veteran soldier. The only sounds we could hear him utter, were a few words of invocation to the Virgin and the Saints. We tried to revive him with a little brandy, but a few moments after he expired.
Nothing can be more appalling than to follow the track of a victorious army. As we had not shared in the success of our comrades, who had just beaten the enemy before us, so no remembrance of our own dangers, fatigues, or anxieties, could diminish the horror of the spectacles we witnessed. We travelled through a desolated and deserted country; we lodged indiscriminately beside the dying and the dead, who had crawled from the gory field of battle to the nearest houses, to close their eyes forever, unassisted and unseen.
We joined our division at Cuença, and took up our quarters for a few days in the neighbourhood of Belmonte and San Clemente. We had to wait for our artillery, which could not, without much difficulty, make out more than one or two leagues a day. The rains of winter had made the roads so bad, that it was often necessary to take the teams of several pieces of artillery to drag a single gun. We afterwards crossed Don Quixote's country in going to Consuegra and Madrilejos. Toboso exactly corresponds with the description given of it by Cervantes, in his immortal romance of Den Quixote de La Maudlin. If that visionary hero did not render great service to widows and orphans while he lived, his memory at least preserved from the horrors of war the country of his imaginary Dulcinea. The first woman the French soldiers saw at a window, they cried out, laughing, "There's Dulcinea!" Their mirth emboldened the inhabitants; and, far from flying, as usual, at the sight of our advanced guard, they collected to see us pass. Jests about Dulcinea and Don Quixote formed a link of connexion between us and the citizens of Toboso; and the French, being well entertained, treated in their turn their hosts with urbanity.
We remained for more than a month quartered in La Mancha. Our mode of living was whether we staid in houses or bivouacked in the field; only, in place of removing from one house to another, we went from our own fire to that of our comrades. There we spent the tedious night, quenching our thirst, and conversing about the occurrences of the war, or listening to the account of past campaigns. Sometimes about daybreak, a horse pinched with the chillness of the dews, would pull up his stake, and come gently to the fire and warm his nose, as if the old servant was reminding us that he too had a share in the engagement about which we were speaking.
The simple stirring life we led had both its pleasures and its dangers. Every hour, when near the enemy, we were seeing detachments going and coming after long absence, and bringing news of others in Spain at a great distance.
When we were ordered to be in readiness to ride, we might as well have been sent to France, Germany, or the extremity of Europe, as on a short excursion to the neighbourhood. When we left a place, we could not tell if we might ever return. When we halted at any spot, we knew not if our stay might be for months, or for hours. The longest, dreariest stay was never wearisome, because we always expected something new. We were often destitute of daily bread; but our comfort in our distress was the hope of an approaching change. When abundance returned to us, we hastened to enjoy it; we lived fast; we made up for past abstinence, and kept in remembrance that our plenty must pass away. When the thunder of artillery in the distance announced that a battle was near—when the different divisions hurried to the place of action, and brothers and friends that had been separated distinguished each other—they would stop to embrace and utter a transient adieu: their arms would clash, their plumes would intertwine, and, they would tear themselves asunder to rejoin their ranks.
The frequency of danger made s regard death as one of the most common occurrences. We grieved for our comrades when wounded, but if dead, we showed an indifference about them that often bordered on levity. When the soldiers, in passing, recognised a companion numbered with the slain, they would say, " He is now above want, he will abuse his horse no more, his drinking days are done"—or words to that purpose; which manifested a stoical disregard of existence. It was the only funeral oration spoken over the warriors that had fallen.
The different regiments of our army, particularly the cavalry and infantry, were considerably distinguished from each other in their customs and manners. The infantry, having nothing else to occupy their attention but themselves and their muskets, were great egotists, talkers and sleepers. Doomed, during war, to face death unshrinking, under terror of disgrace, they displayed a fierceness in their hostility, and a disposition to make others suffer, when they could, the evils themselves had endured. They were often impertinent, and sometimes even insolent, to their officers; but in the midst of almost insupportable hardships, a bon-mot would restore them to reason, and set them a laughing. They forgot all their toils the moment they heard the enemy's fire.
The hussars, and chasseurs à cheval, were accustomed of being, for the most part plunderer, wasters, and drinkers and of taking every license in the presence of an enemy. Accustomed, it may be said, to sleep with one eye open, to keep always one ear awake to the sound of the alarm-trumpet, to reconnoitre in a march far in advance of the army, to anticipate the snares of the enemy, to discover the slightest traces of their course, to scour the ravines, and to survey with eagle-eye the distant plains,—they could not but acquire a superior intelligence, and a habit of self-management. And yet they were always silent, and submissive before their officers, from the dread of being unhorsed.
Everlastingly smoking to pass away his time, the light-horseman braved in every country the severity of the climate, under his capacious cloak. The horse and his rider, habituated to each other's company, contracted an affinity of feeling. The trooper was invigorated by his horse, and the horse by his master. When a hussar, scarcely sober, urged his fleet career among ravines, or in the midst of precipices, the horse usurped all the management which the man in his senses possessed; it would curb its ardour, redouble its caution, shun every danger, and always return, after a few evolutions, to fill up its own and its master's place in the ranks. Sometimes on a journey, the horse would gently slacken its pace, or even incline itself to either side, so as to retain its inebriated and sleeping master in the saddle. The hussar, awaking from this unseasonable lethargy, seeing his horse breathless with exertion, would lament, vow, and swear never to drink more. For several days he would act the pedestrian, and deprive himself of his own provisions to share them with his fellow-traveller.
When the alarm was given in a camp of light cavalry, by a carabine shot from the videttes, in the twinkling of an eye every horse was bridled, and horsemen might be seen in all directions springing through the bivouac fires, leaping over hedges and ditches, and hastening with the speed of lightning to the rendezvous, to repel the first attack of the enemy. The trumpeter's horse alone remained inactive amid all this tumult; but the instant its master ceased to sound, it stamped with impatience, and strained every nerve to overtake its fellows.
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