SECTION VIII: CHAPTER III

MOORE’S ADVANCE TO SAHAGUN

Moore’s determination to retreat on Portugal lasted just seven days. It was at midnight on November 28-29 that he wrote his orders to Baird and Hope, bidding the one to fall back on Corunna and the other on Ciudad Rodrigo. On the afternoon of December 5 he abandoned his scheme, and wrote to recall Baird from Galicia: on the tenth he set out on a very different sort of enterprise, and advanced into the plains of Old Castile with the object of striking at the communications of the French army. We have now to investigate the curious mixture of motives which led him to make such a complete and dramatic change in his plan of campaign.

Having sent off his dispatches to Hope and Baird, the Commander-in-chief had announced next morning to the generals who commanded his divisions and brigades his intention of retreating to Portugal. The news evoked manifestations of surprise and anger that could not be concealed. Even Moore’s own staff did not succeed in disguising their dismay and regret[595]. The army was looking forward with eagerness to another campaign against the French under a general of such well-earned reputation as their present chief: a sudden order to retreat, when the enemy had not even been seen, and when his nearest cavalry vedettes were still three or four marches away, seemed astounding. There would have been remonstrances, had not Moore curtly informed his subordinates that ‘he had not called them together to request their counsel, or to induce them to commit themselves to giving any opinion on the subject. He was taking the whole responsibility entirely upon himself: and he only required that they would immediately prepare to carry it into effect.’ In face of this speech there could be no argument or opposition: but there was[p. 514] murmuring in every quarter: of all the officers of the army of Portugal Hope is said to have been the only one who approved of the Commander-in-chief’s resolve. The consciousness of the criticism that he was undergoing from his own subordinates did not tend to soften Moore’s temper, which was already sufficiently tried by the existing situation of affairs.

After announcing this determination, it might have been expected that Moore would fall back at once on Almeida. But while beginning to send back his stores and his sick[596], he did not move his fighting-men: the reason (as he wrote to Castlereagh[597]) was that he still hoped that he might succeed in picking up Hope’s division, if the French did not press him. Accordingly he lingered on, waiting for that general’s approach, and much surprised that the enemy was making no advance in his direction. It was owing to the fact that he delayed his departure for five days, on the chance that his lost cavalry and guns might after all come in, that Moore finally gained the opportunity of striking his great blow and saving his reputation.

During this period of waiting and of preparation to depart, appeals from many quarters came pouring in upon Moore, begging him to advance at all costs and make his presence felt by the French. The first dispatches which he received were written before his determination to retreat was known: after it was divulged, his correspondents only became the more importunate and clamorous. Simultaneous pressure was brought to bear upon him by the British ambassador at Aranjuez, by the Supreme Junta, by the general who now commanded the wrecks of the Spanish army of Galicia, and by the military authorities at Madrid. Each one of them had many and serious considerations to set before the harassed Commander-in-chief.

Moore had been so constantly asserting that Blake’s old ‘Army of the Left’ had been completely dispersed and ruined, that it must have been somewhat of a surprise to him when the Marquis of La Romana wrote from Leon, on November 30, to say that he was now at the head of a considerable force, and hoped to co-operate in the oncoming campaign. The Galicians had rallied in much greater[p. 515] numbers than had been expected: their losses in battle had not been very great, and the men had dispersed from sheer want of food rather than from a desire to desert their colours. Their equipment was in the most wretched condition, and their shoes worn out: but their spirit was not broken, and if they could get food and clothing, they were quite prepared to do their duty. La Romana enclosed a dispatch of Soult’s which had been intercepted, and remarked that the news in it (apparently a statement of the marshal’s intention to move westward) made it advisable that the English and Spanish armies should at once concert measures for a junction[598].

All that the Marquis stated was perfectly true: his army was growing rapidly, for his muster-rolls of December 4 showed that he had already 15,600 men with the colours, exclusive of sick and wounded: ten days later the number had gone up to 22,800[599]. This was a force that could not be entirely neglected, even though the men were in a dire state of nakedness, and were only just recovering from the effects of their dreadful march from Reynosa across the Cantabrian hills. Moore had always stated, in his dispatches to Castlereagh, that there was no Spanish army with which he could co-operate. He was now offered the aid of 15,000 men, under a veteran officer of high reputation and undoubted patriotism. The proposal to retreat on Portugal seemed even less honourable than before, when it involved the desertion of the Marquis and his much-tried host.

Not long after the moment at which La Romana’s dispatch came to hand, there arrived at Salamanca two officers deputed by the Central Junta to make a final appeal to Moore. These were Don Ventura Escalante, Captain-General of the kingdom of Granada, and the Brigadier-General Augustin Bueno. They had started from Aranjuez on November 28, and seem to have arrived at the British head quarters on December 3 or 4. They brought a letter from Don Martin de Garay, the secretary to the Junta, stating that they were authorized to treat with Moore for the drawing up of a plan of campaign, ‘by which the troops of his Britannic Majesty may act in concert with those of Spain, accelerating a combined movement, and avoiding the delays that[p. 516] are so prejudicial to the noble enterprise in which the two nations are engaged[600].’ The proposal that the two generals made would appear to have been that Moore should march on Madrid by the Guadarrama Pass, picking up Hope’s division on the way, and ordering Baird to follow as best he could. They wished to demonstrate to their despondent ally that it was possible to concentrate for the defence of Madrid a force sufficient to hold the Emperor at bay. If the British came up, they hoped even to be able to repulse him with decisive effect. They alleged that Casta?os had escaped from Tudela with the Andalusian divisions almost intact, and must now be at Guadalajara, quite close to the capital, with 25,000 good troops. Heredia, with the rallied Estremaduran army, was at Segovia, and had 10,000 bayonets: San Juan with 12,000 men was occupying the impregnable Somosierra. Andalusian and Castilian levies were coming in to Madrid every day—they believed that 10,000 men must already be collected. This would constitute when united a mass of nearly 60,000 men: if Moore brought up 20,000 British troops all must go well, for Napoleon had only 80,000 men in the north of Spain. After deducting the army sent against Saragossa, and the detachments at Burgos and in Biscay, as also the corps of Soult, he could not have much more than 20,000 men concentrated for the attack on Madrid. All this ingenious calculation was based on the fundamental misconception that the French armies were only one-third of their actual strength—which far exceeded 200,000 men. But on this point Moore was as ill informed as the Spaniards themselves, and the causes which he alleged for refusing to march on Madrid had nothing to do with statistics. He informed them that his reasons for proposing to retreat on Portugal were that the Spanish armies were too much demoralized to offer successful resistance to the Emperor, and that the road to the capital was now in the possession of the French. He then introduced Colonel Graham, who had just returned from a meeting with San Juan, and had heard from him the story of the forcing of the Somosierra on November 29. Of this disaster Escalante and Bueno were still ignorant: they had to learn from English lips that the French were actually before the gates of Madrid, that Heredia and San Juan were in flight, and that their junction with Casta?os (wherever that general might now be) had become[p. 517] impossible. This appalling news deeply affected Escalante and Bueno, but they then turned to urging Moore to unite with La Romana, and march to the relief of Madrid. The British general replied that he did not believe that the Marquis had 5,000 men fit to take the field along with the British[601], and that any such scheme would be chimerical. His whole bearing towards the emissaries of the Junta seems to have been frigid to the verge of discourtesy. How much they irritated him may be gathered from the account of the interview which he sent to Mr. Frere two days later. In language that seems very inappropriate in an official dispatch—destined ere long to be printed as a ‘Parliamentary Paper’—he wrote: ‘The two generals seemed to me to be two weak old men, or rather women, with whom it was impossible for me to concert any military operations, even had I been so inclined. Their conferences with me consisted in questions, and in assertions with regard to the strength of different Spanish corps, all of which I knew to be erroneous. They neither knew that Segovia or the Somosierra were in the hands of the enemy. I shall be obliged to you to save me from such visits, which are very painful[602].’

It is clear that the mission of Escalante and Bueno had no great share in determining Sir John to abandon his projected retreat on Portugal, though it may possibly have had some cumulative effect when taken in conjunction with other appeals that were coming in to him at the same moment. It was quite otherwise with the dispatches which he received from the authorities at Madrid, and from the British ambassador at Aranjuez: in them we may find the chief causes of his changed attitude. The Madrid dispatch was written by Morla and the Prince of Castelfranco—the two military heads of the Junta of Defence which had been created on December 1—in behalf of themselves and their colleagues. It was sent off early on December 2, before Napoleon had begun to press in upon the suburbs, for it speaks of the city as menaced, not as actually attacked by the enemy. It amounted to an appeal to Moore to do something to help Madrid—not necessarily (as has been often stated) to throw himself into the city, but, if he judged[p. 518] it best, to man?uvre on the flank and rear of the Emperor’s army, so as to distract him from his present design. The writers stated, in much the same terms that Escalante and Bueno had used, that Casta?os with 25,000 men from Tudela and San Juan with 10,000 men from the Somosierra were converging on the capital, and added that the Junta had got together 40,000 men for its defence. With this mass of new levies they thought that they could hold off for the moment the forces that Napoleon had displayed in front of them; but when his reserves and reinforcements came up the situation would be more dangerous. Wherefore they made no doubt that the British general would move with the rapidity that was required in the interests of the allied nations. They supposed it probable that Moore had already united with La Romana’s army, and that the two forces would be able to act together.

There is no reason to think, with Napier and with Moore’s biographer[603], that this dispatch was written by Morla with the treacherous intent of involving the British army in the catastrophe that was impending over the capital. Morla ultimately betrayed his country and joined King Joseph, but there is no real proof that he contemplated doing so before the fall of Madrid. The letter was signed not only by him but by Castelfranco, of whose loyalty there is no doubt, and who was actually arrested and imprisoned by Bonaparte. Moreover, if it had been designed to draw Moore into the Emperor’s clutches, it would not have given him the perfectly sound advice to fall upon the communications of the French army after uniting with La Romana—the precise move that the British general made ten days later with such effect. It would have begged him to enter Madrid, without suggesting any other alternative.

Moore had always stated that his reluctance to advance into Spain had been due, in no small degree, to the apathy which he had found there: but now the capital, as it seemed, was about to imitate Saragossa and to stand at bay behind its barricades. He had no great confidence in its power to hold out. ‘I own,’ he wrote to Castlereagh, ‘that I cannot derive much hope from the resistance of one town against forces so formidable, unless the[p. 519] spark catches and the flame becomes pretty general[604].’ But he could realize the dishonour that would rest upon his own head if, as now seemed possible, Madrid were to make a desperate resistance, and at the same moment the British army were to be seen executing unmolested a tame retreat on Portugal. The letter of Morla and Castelfranco he might perhaps have disregarded, suspecting the usual Spanish exaggerations, if it had stood alone. But it was backed up by an appeal from the most important British sources. Mr. Stuart, whose forecasts Moore had always respected because they were far from optimistic[605], had written him to the effect that ‘the retrograde movements of the British divisions were likely to produce an effect not less serious than the most decisive victory on the part of the enemy.’ Frere, the newly arrived ambassador to the Central Junta, launched out into language of the strongest kind. He had already discovered that his opinions were fundamentally opposed to those of Moore: this was but natural, as the general looked upon the problem that lay before him from a military point of view, while the ambassador could only regard its political aspect. Any impartial observer can now see that the advance of the British army into Spain was likely to be a hazardous matter, even if Hope and Baird succeeded in joining the main body at Salamanca. On the other hand, it is quite clear that the Spanish government would have every reason to regard itself as having been abandoned and betrayed, if that advance were not made. Balancing the one danger against the other, it seems evident that Frere was right, and that it was Moore’s duty to make a diversion of some sort against the French. Executed on any day before Madrid fell, such a movement would have disturbed Bonaparte and distracted him from his main plan of operations. Nor would the operation have been so hazardous as Moore supposed, since his junction with Hope had become certain when that general reached Pe?aranda, while Baird had never had any French troops in his neighbourhood. The retreat on Galicia was always open: that on Portugal was equally available till the moment when the capitulation of Madrid set free great masses of Bonaparte’s central reserve.

In his earlier epistles to Moore Frere had deprecated the idea of a retreat, and had suggested that if for military reasons an advance[p. 520] should be impracticable, it would at least be possible that the British army might remain on Spanish ground. He had soon learnt that the general entertained very different views, and his penultimate letter, that of November 30, shows signs of pique at the small impression that his arguments had made upon his correspondent[606]. Now on December 3 he wrote from Talavera, whither he had followed the Supreme Junta in their flight, to try his last effort. To his previous arguments he had only one more to add, the fact that on December 1-2 the people of Madrid were showing that spirit of fanatical patriotism which Moore had sought in vain hitherto among the Spaniards. The populace, as he had learnt, was barricading the streets and throwing up batteries: 30,000 citizens and peasants were now under arms. Considering their spirit, he had no hesitation in taking upon himself the responsibility of representing the propriety, not to say the necessity, of doing something in their behalf. The fate of Spain depended absolutely, for the moment, on some help being given by the British army. Frere had first-hand evidence of the enthusiasm which was reigning in Madrid on the first day of December, having spoken to several persons who had just left the capital, including a French émigré colonel, one Charmilly, to whose care he entrusted his last letter to the Commander-in-chief. But so convinced was he that no argument of his would affect Sir John Moore, that he took a most improper step, and endeavoured to appeal to the public opinion of the army over the head of its general. He entrusted Charmilly with a second letter, which he was only to deliver if Moore refused to countermand his retreat after reading the first. This document was a request that in case Sir John remained fixed in his original determination, he would allow the bearer of these letters to be examined before a Council of War. Frere thought that Charmilly’s account of what was going on in Madrid would appeal to the Brigadiers, if it had no effect on the Lieutenant-General—and probably he was not far wrong. Such a plan struck at the roots of all military obedience: it could only have occurred to a civilian. If anything could have made the matter worse, it was that the document should be entrusted not[p. 521] to a British officer but to a foreign adventurer, a kind of person to whom the breach between the civil and military representatives of Great Britain ought never to have been divulged. Moreover Charmilly (though Frere was not aware of this fact) chanced to be personally known to Moore, who had a very bad opinion of him[607]. The émigré was said to have been implicated in the San Domingo massacres of 1794, and to have been engaged of late in doubtful financial speculations in London. To send him to Salamanca with such an errand seemed like a deliberate insult to the Commander-in-chief. Frere was innocent of this intention, but the whole business, even without this aggravation, was most unwise and improper.

Charmilly handed in his first document on the evening of December 5, a few hours after Morla’s messenger had delivered the appeal from Madrid. Moore received him in the most formal way, dismissed him, and began to compare Frere’s information with that of the Junta of Defence, of the emissaries from Aranjuez, and of his other English correspondents. Putting all together, he felt his determination much shaken: Madrid, as it seemed, was really about to defend itself: the preparations which were reported to him bore out the words of Morla and Castelfranco. His own army was seething with discontent at the projected retreat: Hope being now only one march away, at Alba de Tormes, he could no longer plead that he was unable to advance because he was destitute of cavalry and guns. Moreover, he was now so far informed as to the position—though not as to the numbers—of the French, that he was aware that there was no very serious force in front of himself or of Baird: everything had been turned on to Madrid. Even the 4th Corps, of which Hope had heard during his march, was evidently moving on Segovia and the Guadarrama.

Contemplating the situation, Moore’s resolution broke down: he knew what his army was saying about him at the present moment: he guessed what his government would say, if it should chance that Madrid made a heroic defence while he was retreating unpursued on Lisbon and Almeida. A man of keen ambition and soldierly feeling, he could not bear to think that he might be sacrificing[p. 522] his life’s work and reputation to an over-conscientious caution. Somewhere between eight o’clock and midnight on the night of December 5 he made up his mind to countermand the retreat. He dashed off a short note to Castlereagh, and a dispatch to Baird, and the thing was done. To the war-minister he wrote that ‘considerable hopes were entertained from the enthusiastic manner in which the people of Madrid resist the French.’ This hope he did not share himself, but ‘in consequence of the general opinion, which is also Mr. Frere’s, I have ordered Sir David Baird to suspend his march [to Corunna] and shall myself continue at this place until I see further, and shall be guided by circumstances.’ To Madrid he would not go till he was certain that the town was making a firm defence, and that the spirit of resistance was spreading all over Spain: but the plan of instant retreat on Portugal was definitely abandoned[608]. The dispatch to Baird shows even more of the General’s mind, for he and his subordinate were personal friends, and spoke out freely to each other. The people of Madrid, Moore wrote, had taken up arms, refused to capitulate, and were barricading their streets—they said that they would suffer anything rather than submit. Probably all this came too late, and Bonaparte was too strong to be resisted. ‘There is, however, no saying, and I feel myself the more obliged to give it a trial, as Mr. Frere has made a formal representation, which I received this evening. All this appears very strange and unsteady—but if the spirit of enthusiasm does arise in Spain, and the people will be martyrs, there is no saying what our force may do.’ Baird therefore was to stay his march on Corunna, to make arrangements to return to Astorga, and to send off at once to join the main army one of his three regiments of hussars[609]. All this was written ere midnight: at early dawn Moore’s mind was still further made up. He sent to Sir David orders to push his cavalry to Zamora, his infantry, brigade by brigade, to Benavente, in the plains of Leon. ‘What is passing at Madrid may be decisive of the fate of Spain, and we must be at hand to take advantage of whatever happens. The wishes of our country and our duty demand it of us, with whatever risk it may be attended.... But if the bubble bursts, and Madrid falls, we shall have a run for it.... Both you and me, though we may look big, and determine to get everything forward, yet we must[p. 523] never lose sight of this, that at any moment affairs may take the turn that will render it necessary to retreat[610].’

If only Moore had discovered on November 13, instead of on December 5, that events at Madrid were important, and that his country’s wishes and his duty required him to take a practical interest in them, the winter campaign of 1808 would have taken—for good or evil—a very different shape from that which it actually assumed. Meanwhile his resolve came too late. Madrid had actually capitulated thirty-six hours before he received the letters of Morla and of Frere. Moreover the offensive could not be assumed till Baird should have retraced his steps from Villafranca, and returned to the position at Astorga from which his wholly unnecessary retreat had removed him.

A painful and rather grotesque scene had to be gone through on the morning of December 6. Colonel Charmilly had been received by Moore on the previous night in such a dry and formal manner, that it never occurred to him that the letter which he had delivered was likely to have had any effect. Accordingly he presented himself for the second time next morning, with Frere’s supplementary epistle, taking it for granted that retreat was still the order of the day, and making the demand for the assembly of a Council of War. Moore, fresh from the severe mental struggle which attended the reversal of all his plans, was in no mood for politeness. Righteously indignant at what seemed to him both a deliberate personal insult, and an intrigue to undermine his authority with his subordinates, he burst out into words of anger and contempt, and told his provost-marshal to expel Charmilly from the camp without a moment’s delay[611]. When this had been done, he sat down to write a dispatch to Frere, in which his conscientious desire to avoid hard words with a British minister struggled in vain with his natural resentment. He began by justifying his original resolve to retreat; and then informed his correspondent that ‘I should never have thought of asking your opinion or advice, as the determination was founded on circumstances with which you could not be acquainted, and was a question[p. 524] purely military, of which I thought myself the best judge.’ When he made up his mind, the army had been hopelessly divided into fractions, and there was good reason at that moment to fear that the French would prevent their concentration. But as the resistance made by the people of Madrid had deterred Bonaparte from detaching any corps against him, and the junction of the British divisions now seemed possible, the situation was changed. ‘Without being able to say exactly in what manner, everything shall be done for the assistance of Madrid, and the Spanish cause, that can be expected from an army such as I command.’ But Moore would not move till Baird came up, and even then, he said, he would only have 26,000 men fit for duty[612]. Believing that Frere’s conduct had been inspired by a regard for the public welfare, he should abstain from any comment on the two letters brought by Colonel Charmilly. But he must confess that he both felt and expressed much indignation at a person of that sort being made the channel of communication between them. ‘I have prejudices against all that class, and it is impossible for me to put any trust in him. I shall therefore thank you not to employ him in any communication with me[613].’

Moore had kept his temper more in hand than might have been expected, considering the provocation that he had received: the same cannot be said for Frere, whose next letter, written from Truxillo on December 9, ended by informing the general that ‘if the British army had been sent abroad for the express object of doing the utmost possible mischief to the cause of Spain, short of actually firing upon the Spanish troops, they would have most completely fulfilled their purpose by carrying out exactly the measures which they have taken[614].’ This was unpardonable language from one official writing a state paper to another, and it is regrettable to find that Frere made no formal apology for it in his later dispatches. Even when he discovered that Moore was actually executing a diversion against the communications of the French army, he only wrote that he was ‘highly gratified’ to find that they were at last agreed on the advisability of such a[p. 525] move[615]. Frere’s uncontrolled expressions showed that he was entirely unfit for a diplomatic post, and cannot be too strongly reprobated. At the same time we are forced to concede that his main thesis was perfectly true: nothing could have been more unhappy than that the aid of a British army of 33,000 men should have been promised to Spain: that the army should have marched late, in isolated divisions and by the wrong roads: that after its van had reached Salamanca on November 13, it should not have taken one step in advance up to December 5: that just as Madrid was attacked it should tamely begin to retreat on Corunna and Lisbon. Moore was only partly responsible for all this: but it is certain that the whole series of movements had in truth been calculated to do the utmost possible mischief to the cause of Spain and of England. If Moore had died or been superseded on December 4, 1808, he would have been written down as wellnigh the worst failure in all the long list of incompetent British commanders since the commencement of the Revolutionary War.

It is, therefore, with all the greater satisfaction that we now pass on to the second part of the campaign of the British army in Spain, wherein Moore showed himself as resourceful, rapid, and enterprising as he had hitherto appeared slow and hesitating. Having once got rid of the over-caution which had hitherto governed his movements, and having made up his mind that it was right to run risks, he showed that the high reputation which he enjoyed in the British army was well deserved.

Moore’s first intention, as is shown by his orders to Baird and his letters to Castlereagh, was merely to disturb the French communications by a sudden raid on Valladolid, or even on Burgos. If Madrid was really holding out, the Emperor would not be able to send any large detachment against him, unless he made up his mind to raise the siege of the capital. It was probable that Bonaparte would consider the destruction of an English army of even more importance than the prosecution of the siege, and that he would come rushing northward with all his army. In that case, as Moore wrote to Baird, ‘we shall have a run for it,’ but Madrid would be saved. In short, Napoleon was to be treated like the bull in the arena, who is lured away from a fallen adversary by having a red cloak dangled before his eyes. Supposing that the main force of the French were turned upon him, Moore was[p. 526] perfectly well aware that his line of retreat on Portugal would be cut, for troops marching from the neighbourhood of Madrid, via the Guadarrama Pass, might easily seize Salamanca. But it is one of the privileges of the possessor of sea-power that he can change his base whenever he chooses, and Moore wrote to Castlereagh to request that transports might be massed at Corunna for the reception of his army. If forced to fall back on that place he intended to sail round to Lisbon or to Cadiz, as circumstances might dictate.

In the unlikely event of Bonaparte’s persisting in the siege of Madrid, and sending only small detachments against the British army, Moore thought that he would be strong enough to make matters very unpleasant for the enemy in Old Castile. If he beat the forces immediately opposed to him, and seized Valladolid and Burgos, the Emperor would be compelled to come north, whether he wished it or no.

All these plans were perfectly reasonable and well concerted, considering the information that was at Moore’s disposition on December 6. But that information was based on two false premises: the one was that Madrid was likely to hold out for some little time—Moore never supposed that it could be for very long, for he remained fixed in his distrust of Spanish civic virtues: the second was that the French army in the north of Spain did not amount to more than 80,000 or 100,000 men, an estimate which had been repeated to him by every Spaniard with whom he had communicated, and which had been confirmed, not only by Frere, but by Stuart and other English correspondents in whom he had some confidence. If he had known that the French had entered Madrid on December 4, and that they numbered more than 250,000 bayonets and sabres, his plans would have been profoundly modified[616].

[p. 527]

Moore’s original intention was to move on Valladolid, a great centre of roads, and a sort of halfway-house between Burgos and Madrid. Meanwhile, Baird was to come down from Astorga via Benavente, and to converge on the same point. A cavalry screen in front of the combined force was formed, by pushing the two regiments which belonged to Moore’s own corps towards Alaejos and Tordesillas, on the south bank of the Douro; while Baird’s cavalry brigade, under Lord Paget, made a forced march from Astorga to Toro, and extended itself north of the river. Moore’s infantry was not to move till the tenth, but that of Baird was already returning as fast as it could manage from Villafranca to Astorga. The unfortunate orders of retreat, issued on November 29, had cost Sir David six marches, three from Astorga to Villafranca and three from Villafranca to Astorga—time lost in the most miserable and unnecessary fashion. One of his brigades, that of General Leith[617], was now so far off that it never managed to overtake the army, and was out of the game for something like a fortnight. But the rest, which had only to return from Villafranca[618], succeeded in joining the main body in much better time than might have been expected. The fact was that the news of an advance had restored the high spirits of the whole army, and the men stepped out splendidly through the cold and rainy winter days, and easily accomplished their twenty miles between dawn and dusk.

Moore, meanwhile, was occupied at Salamanca in making the last preparations for his advance. He had already sent back into Portugal one large convoy on December 5, escorted by the fifth battalion of the 60th Regiment. He now dispatched another which marched by Ciudad Rodrigo, where it picked up the 3rd Foot, who guarded it back to Portugal[619]. The two between them contained all his heavy baggage, and all the sick from his base hospital who could bear transport—probably more than 1,500 invalids: for the total number of the sick of the army was very nearly 4,000, and the larger half of them must have belonged to Moore’s own corps,[p. 528] which was in worse trim than that of Baird. The loss of the regiments sent off on escort duty was partly made up a few days later by the arrival of the 82nd, which came up by forced marches from Oporto, and reached Benavente on December 26. It was the leading battalion of a brigade which the government had resolved to add to Moore’s force from the slender division of Cradock: the other two battalions of the brigade were too far behind, and never succeeded in joining the field-army[620]. Allowing for these final changes we find that Moore and Baird started forth with 29,946 effective sabres and bayonets—in which are included 1,687 men on detachment: they left behind them nearly 4,000 sick[621]. If we deduct 2,539 for Leith’s brigade, which was still far beyond Villafranca, and for the belated 82nd, the actual force which carried out the great raid into the plain of Old Castile must have been just over 25,000 strong: of these 2,450 were cavalry, and there were 1,297 artillery gunners and drivers with sixty-six guns.

Moore had, of course, given notice to La Romana of his change of plan: in response to his letter of December 6 the Marquis expressed his pleasure at the prospect of the union of the allied armies, and his wish to co-operate to the best of his power[622]. He had now collected 20,000 men—a formidable army on paper—and was certain to do his best, but what that might amount to was very doubtful. It was well known that a great part of his troops were not fit to move: but it was not till a few days later that Moore received definite intelligence as to the exact amount of military aid that might be furnished by the army of the Left.

The British troops were fully committed to their new plan of campaign—Baird was hastening back to Astorga, the sick and the convoys had started for Portugal, the cavalry had pushed well to the front—when Moore suddenly received a piece of intelligence which profoundly modified the situation. Madrid had fallen into[p. 529] the hands of Bonaparte: the news was brought by Colonel Graham, who had been sent off with the reply to Morla and Castelfranco. Forced to make a long detour, because all the direct roads were known to be in the hands of the French, he had fallen in at Talavera with the fugitive army from the Escurial, and had almost witnessed the murder of San Juan. From information given him by various persons, and especially by two belated members of the Central Junta, he learnt that Napoleon had stormed the Retiro and the Prado, and that Morla had signed a capitulation. The populace were said to be still in possession of their arms, and it was supposed that there would be much trouble in pacifying the city; but there was no doubt that, from a military point of view, it was in the Emperor’s power[623].

Considering Moore’s earlier doubts and hesitations, we should almost have expected that this news would have induced him to throw up his whole plan for an advance into Old Castile, and once more to order a retreat on Almeida. But he evidently considered that he was now committed to the raid on Bonaparte’s lines of communication, and thought that, even if he could not save Madrid, he could at least distract the enemy from an attempt to push further south, and give the Spanish armies time to rally. There was a chance, as he wrote to Castlereagh[624], that he might effect something, and he should take it, committing himself to Fortune: ‘If she smiles we may do some good: if not, we shall still I hope have the merit of having done all that we could. The army, for its numbers, is excellent, and is (I am confident) quite determined to do its duty.’

On December 11 the infantry at last began to move forward from Salamanca—a month all but two days had elapsed since its vanguard reached that city. On that day the reserve division, under General E. Paget, and Beresford’s brigade of Fraser’s division marched for Toro, where they found Lord Paget with Baird’s cavalry, ready to cover their advance. These troops were to form the left-hand column of the advance on Valladolid. On the next day Hope’s detachment from Alba de Tormes, and the brigades of Bentinck, Fane, Hill, and Charles Alten from Salamanca, which formed the right-hand column, marched for Alaejos and Tordesillas. In front of them was Charles Stewart’s cavalry brigade,[p. 530] which, on the same evening (December 12), fell upon a French cavalry patrol at Rueda and captured it whole, only one man escaping. The prisoners turned out to belong to the 22nd Chasseurs cf Franceschi’s cavalry division, which, as it was discovered, lay at Valladolid without any infantry supports[625]. They expressed the greatest surprise at finding themselves assailed by English cavalry, as they were under the impression that Moore had retired on Lisbon some days before. This side-light on the general ignorance prevailing in the French army as to the position and designs of the British was very valuable: the first meeting with the enemy, trifling as was the success, promised well for the future.

On the thirteenth Moore himself came up from Salamanca to Alaejos, where he overtook the infantry. Stewart’s cavalry meanwhile pushed on to Tordesillas and Medina del Campo, without coming across any traces of the French. At Tordesillas they found themselves in touch with Lord Paget’s horsemen on the other side of the Douro, who had also met with no opposition whatever. On the fifteenth the whole army would have converged on Valladolid, if Moore’s original intention had been carried out. But a fortunate accident intervened to prevent this march, which would have placed the British troops nearer to Madrid and to the Emperor than did the route which they finally adopted.

There was brought to Moore at Alaejos an intercepted dispatch from Berthier to Soult, containing the most valuable information. The officer bearing it had been sent off from Madrid without an escort, according to the Emperor’s usual habit—a habit that cost the lives of some scores of unfortunate aides-de-camp during the first year of the Peninsular War. It was only by experience that Napoleon and his marshals learnt that isolated officers travelling in this fashion were devoted in Spain to probable death and possible torture, as Marbot (after a personal experience of the kind) bitterly observed. The bearer of this particular dispatch had been murdered by peasants at the post-house of Valdestillos, near Segovia.

The document was full of invaluable facts and details. It informed Soult that with his existing force—the two infantry divisions of Merle and Mouton, and the four cavalry regiments of[p. 531] Franceschi’s division[626]—he was strong enough to march straight before him from Salda?a, and to overrun the whole kingdom of Leon. He was to seize the towns of Leon, Zamora, and Benavente, and to sweep the débris of the army of Galicia into its native mountains. He would find nothing else to oppose him; for the English, as all accounts agreed, were in full retreat on Lisbon. They had last been heard of at Salamanca and the Escurial. A knowledge of this plan was valuable to Moore, but still more so was what followed—a sketch of the position of the French army at the moment when the dispatch was written. The advanced guard of the ‘Grand Army’ (Lefebvre’s corps) was at Talavera, and would shortly be at Badajoz: Bessières was chasing Casta?os beyond the Upper Tagus, on the road to Valencia. Mortier’s and Junot’s corps had reached Spain: the former had been ordered off to aid in the siege of Saragossa: the latter was on the march to Burgos, and its leading division had reached Vittoria. The chief omission was that Berthier did not mention the Imperial Guard or the corps of Ney, which were in or about Madrid when he wrote, and were probably destined to follow Lefebvre’s march on Badajoz and Lisbon. The dispatch ends with the curious note that ‘His Majesty is in the best of health. The city of Madrid is quite tranquil: the shops are open, theatrical amusements have been resumed, and you would never suppose that our first addresses to the place had been emphasized by 4,000 cannon-balls[627].’

Moore was thus placed in possession of the Emperor’s plan of campaign, and of the dislocation of the greater part of his army. Most important of all, he discovered that his own position and designs were wholly unsuspected. His mind was soon made up: Soult, as it seemed, with his 15,000 or 16,000 men at Salda?a and Carrion, was about to move forward into Leon. He would thus be placed at an enormous distance from the Emperor, and would have no solid supports save the leading division of Junot’s corps, which must now be drawing near to Burgos. If he advanced, the whole British army, aided by whatever troops La Romana could produce, might be hurled upon him. The results could not be[p. 532] doubtful, and a severe defeat inflicted on the 2nd Corps would shake the hold of the French on Northern Spain, and ruin all the Emperor’s plans. Moreover the region where Soult might be looked for, about Carrion, Sahagun, and Mayorga, was far more remote from Madrid than the Valladolid country, where Moore was originally intending to strike his blow, so that several days would be gained before the Emperor could interfere.

Accordingly, on December 15, the whole army suddenly changed its direction from eastward to northward. The left-hand column of the infantry crossed the Douro at Zamora, the right-hand column at Toro. The cavalry, screening the march of both, went northward from Tordesillas to the banks of the Sequillo, pushing its advanced parties right up to Valladolid, and driving back the dragoons of Franceschi, several of whose detachments they cut off, capturing a colonel and more than a hundred men. They intercepted the communications between Burgos and Madrid to such effect that Bonaparte believed that the whole British army was moving on Valladolid, and drew up his first plan of operations under that hypothesis[628].

Meanwhile four good marches [December 16-20] carried Moore’s infantry from Zamora and Toro by the route Villalpando—Valderas to Mayorga. The weather was bitterly cold, which in one way favoured the movement, for the frost hardened the country roads, which would otherwise have been mere sloughs of mud. A little snow fell from time to time, but not enough to incommode the troops. They marched well, kept their discipline, and left few sick or stragglers behind. This was the result of good spirits, for they had been told that they would meet the French before the week was out. At Mayorga the junction with Baird’s column was safely effected.

When the army had thus completed its concentration, Sir John Moore, for reasons which it is not quite easy to understand, rearranged all its units. He formed it into four divisions and two[p. 533] independent light brigades. The 1st Division was given to Sir David Baird, the 2nd to Sir John Hope, the 3rd to General Fraser, the 4th (or Reserve) to General E. Paget. The two light brigades were under Charles Alten and Robert Crawfurd (now as always to be carefully distinguished from Catlin Crawfurd, who commanded a brigade of Hope’s division). All the old arrangements of the army of Portugal were broken up: Baird was given three regiments which had come from Lisbon: on the other hand he had to make over four of his Corunna battalions to Hope and two to Fraser. Apparently the idea of the Commander-in-chief was to mix the corps who had already had experience of the French in Portugal with the comparatively raw troops who had landed in Galicia. Otherwise it is impossible to understand the gratuitous divorce of regiments which had been for some time accustomed to act together. The cavalry was formed as a division of two brigades under Lord Paget: the three hussar regiments from Corunna formed one, under General Slade; the two corps from Lisbon the other, under Charles Stewart, the brother of Lord Castlereagh. Of the whole army only the 82nd and Leith’s brigade were still missing: the former had not yet reached Benavente. The belated regiments of the latter were still on the further side of Astorga, and never took any part in the advance.

During this march Moore at last got full information as to the state of La Romana’s troops, and the aid that might be expected from them. The Marquis himself, writing to contradict a false report that he was retiring on Galicia, confessed that two-thirds of his 20,000 men wanted reclothing from head to foot, and that there was a terrible want of haversacks, cartridge-boxes, and shoes. He complained bitterly that the provinces (i.e. Asturias and Galicia) were slack and tardy in forwarding him supplies, and laid much of the blame on them[629]. But he would move forward the moment he could be assisted by Baird’s troops in pressing the French in his front. He reported that Soult had 10,000 infantry[p. 534] at Salda?a, Carrion, and Almanza, with cavalry out in advance at Sahagun: he dared not move across their front southward, for to do so would uncover the high-road through Leon to the Asturias. But the appearance of Baird on the Benavente—Palencia road should be the signal for him to advance against the French in conjunction with his allies[630].

Romana’s description of his army did not sound very promising. But a confidential report from an English officer who had visited his cantonments gave an even less favourable account of the Galicians. Colonel Symes had seen four of the seven divisions which formed the ‘Army of the Left.’ He wrote that the soldiers were ‘in general, stout young men, without order or discipline, but not at all turbulent or ferocious. Their clothing was motley, and some were half-naked. Their man?uvres were very confusedly performed, and the officers were comparatively inferior to the men. The equipment was miserable: of sixteen men of General Figueroa’s guard only six had bayonets. The springs and locks of the muskets often did not correspond. A portion of them—at least one-third—would not explode, and a French soldier could load and fire his piece with precision thrice, before a Spaniard could fire his twice.’ Of the three divisions which he saw reviewed at Leon, one (the 5th, the old troops from the Baltic) seemed superior to the rest, and was armed with good English firelocks: there was also a corps of light troops, 1,000 men in uniform, who might be called respectable[631].... Without undervaluing the spirit of patriotism of the Spaniards, which might in the end effect their deliverance, the writer of the report could only say that they were not, and for a very long time could not be, sufficiently improved in the art of war to be coadjutors in a general action with the British: if any reliance were placed on Spanish aid in the field, terrible disappointment must result: ‘we must stand or fall through our own means[632].’ Colonel Symes doubted whether La Romana would even dare to take his troops into the field at all—wherein he did the Marquis grave injustice: he had every intention of doing his best—though that best turned[p. 535] out to be merely the bringing to the front of the 7,000 or 8,000 men out of his 22,000, who were more or less armed and equipped, while the rest were left behind as wholly unserviceable.

With this document before him, Moore must have found a certain grim humour in the perusal of a letter from the Supreme Junta, which reached him at Toro on December 16, informing him that La Romana would join him with 14,000 ‘picked men,’ and that within a month 30,000 more Asturian and Galician levies should be at his disposal. This communication was brought to him by Francisco Xavier Caro, the brother of the Marquis, who was himself a member of the Junta. With him came Mr. Stuart, as an emissary from the British minister, bringing the last of those unhappy epistles which Frere had written before he knew that the plan of retreating on Portugal had been given up. We have already quoted one of its insulting phrases on page 524: the rest was in the same strain. Fortunately, it could be disregarded, as Moore was actually advancing on the enemy, with a definite promise of help from La Romana. Caro professed to be much delighted that the Junta’s hopes were at last obtaining fruition. Stuart expressed surprise and grief at the tone of Frere’s letters, and ‘seemed not much pleased at his mission[633].’ This was the last of the many troubles with the British and Spanish civil authorities which were destined to harass the Commander-in-chief. For the future it was only military cares that were to weigh upon his mind.

On December 20 the army had concentrated at Mayorga. Somewhat to his disappointment Moore discovered that Soult had not begun the advance on Leon which Berthier’s intercepted dispatch had ordered. Either no duplicate of it had been received by the Marshal, or he had been disconcerted by the report that the English were on the move for Valladolid. That they were coming against his own force he can as yet hardly have guessed. He was still in his old position, one infantry division at Salda?a, the other at Carrion. Debelle’s light-cavalry brigade lay in front as a screen, with its head quarters at Sahagun, only nine miles from the English advanced pickets, which had reached the abbey of Melgar Abaxo.

The proximity of the enemy led Lord Paget, who showed himself throughout the campaign a most admirable and enterprising cavalry commander, to attempt a surprise. Marching long ere[p. 536] dawn with the 10th and 15th Hussars, he reached the vicinity of Sahagun without being discovered. Debelle had no outlying vedettes, and his main-guard on the high-road was suddenly surrounded and captured before it was aware that an enemy was near. Only a single trooper escaped, but he aroused the town, and Paget, hearing the French trumpets sounding in the streets, saw that he must lose no time. He sent General Slade with the 10th Hussars by the straight road into Sahagun, while he himself galloped around it with the 15th to cut off the enemy’s retreat. As he reached the suburb he found Debelle forming up his two regiments—the 8th Dragoons and the 1st Provisional Chasseurs—among the snow-covered stumps of a vineyard. Nothing could be seen of the 10th, which was scouring the town, but Paget formed up the 15th for a charge. His first movement was checked by an unexpected ditch; but moving rapidly down it he crossed at a place where it was practicable, and found Debelle changing front to meet him. Catching the French before they had begun to move—their new formation was not yet quite completed—Paget charged into them without hesitation, though they outnumbered him by nearly two to one. He completely rode down the front regiment, the provisional chasseurs, and flung it back on to the dragoons, who broke and fled. The chasseurs, who were commanded by Colonel Tascher, a cousin of the Empress Josephine, were half destroyed: two lieutenant-colonels, eleven other officers, and 157 men were taken prisoners, twenty were killed, many were wounded[634]. The regiment indeed was so mauled that Bonaparte dissolved it soon after, and replaced it in Franceschi’s division by the 1st Hussars, which had just arrived from France.

This was perhaps the most brilliant exploit of the British cavalry during the whole six years of the war. When the Peninsular medals were distributed, nearly forty years after, a special clasp was very rightly given for it, though many combats in which a much larger number of men were engaged received no such notice. While reading the records of later stages of the war the historian must often regret that Wellington never, till Waterloo, had the services of Paget as commander of his light cavalry. There were unfortunate personal reasons which rendered the presence of the[p. 537] victor of Sahagun and Benavente impossible in the camp of the victor of Vimiero[635].

The scared survivors of Debelle’s brigade rode back to give Soult notice that the enemy was upon him, and might close in on the very next day. Meanwhile Moore’s infantry, following in the wake of Paget’s horse, reached Sahagun on the evening of the twenty-first. It was to be almost their last step in advance. The general allowed one day’s rest to enable the rear divisions to close up to the van, so that all might advance on Salda?a and Carrion in a compact mass. He intended to deliver his much-desired blow at Soult upon the twenty-third.

The Duke of Dalmatia, though he had heard nothing as yet of the British infantry, made the right inference from the vigorous way in which his cavalry had been driven in, and concluded that Moore was not far off. He drew down his second infantry division from Salda?a to Carrion, thus concentrating his corps, and sent aides-de-camp to Burgos and Palencia to hurry up to his support every regiment that could be found. The disposable troops turned out to be Lorges’s division of dragoons, and Delaborde’s division of the 8th Corps, which were both on their way from Burgos to Madrid. The rest of Junot’s infantry was two days off, on the road from Vittoria to Burgos. The brigade of Franceschi’s cavalry which had evacuated Valladolid, was also heard of on the Palencia road. No news or orders had been received from Madrid, with which place communication was now only possible by the route of Aranda, that by Valladolid being closed.

If Moore, allowing his infantry the night of the twenty-first and the morning of the twenty-second to recruit their strength, had marched on Carrion on the afternoon of the latter day, he would have caught Soult at a disadvantage at dawn on the twenty-third, for none of the supporting forces had yet got into touch with the Marshal. If the latter had dared to make a stand, he would have been crushed: but it is more probable that—being a prudent general—he would have fallen back a march in the direction of Burgos. But, as it chanced, Moore resolved to give his men forty-eight hours instead of thirty-six at Sahagun—and twelve hours[p. 538] often suffice to change the whole situation. The army was told to rest as long as daylight lasted on the twenty-third, and to march at nightfall, so as to appear in front of the bridge of Carrion at dawn on the twenty-fourth. Attacked at daybreak, the Marshal would, as Moore hoped, find no time to organize his retreat and would thus be forced to fight.

While waiting at Sahagun for the sun to set, Moore received a dispatch from La Romana to say that, in accordance with his promise, he had marched from Leon to aid his allies. But he could only put into the field some 8,000 men and a single battery—with which he had advanced to Mansilla, with his vanguard at Villarminio, on the road to Salda?a. He was thus but eighteen miles from Sahagun, and though he had only brought a third of his army with him, could be utilized in the oncoming operations.

But this was not the only news which reached Moore on the afternoon of the twenty-third. Only two short hours before he received the dispatch from Mansilla, another note from La Romana had come in, with information of very much greater importance. A confidential agent of the Marquis, beyond the Douro, had sent him a messenger with news that all the French forces in the direction of the Escurial were turning northward and crossing the Guadarrama. Putting this intelligence side by side with rumours brought in by peasants, to the effect that great quantities of food and forage had been ordered to be collected in the villages west of Palencia, Moore drew the right inference. What he had always expected had come to pass. Napoleon had turned north from Madrid, and was hastening across the mountains to overwhelm the British army[636].

Without losing a moment, Moore countermanded his advance on Carrion. The orders went out at nine o’clock, when the leading brigades had already started. As the men were tramping over the frozen snow, in full expectation of a fight at dawn, they were suddenly told to halt. A moment later came the command to turn back by the road that they had come, and to retire to their bivouacs of the previous day. Utterly puzzled and much disgusted the troops returned to Sahagun.