SECTION XVI: CHAPTER III

WELLESLEY AND CUESTA: THE INTERVIEW AT MIRABETE

It was not till the third day of July that Wellesley had been able to cross the Spanish border. Since Victor had assumed his new position to the north of the Tagus as early as the nineteenth of the preceding month, there was a perilous fortnight during which Cuesta and his army were left alone to face the French. All through this time of waiting, the British Commander-in-chief was haunted by the dread that the old Captain-General might repeat his earlier errors, and once more—as at Rio Seco and Medellin—court a pitched battle. Wellesley had done his best to urge caution, by letters written not only to Cuesta himself, but to his Chief-of-the-staff O’Donoju and to Colonel Roche, who had now replaced Bourke as British representative at the head quarters of the Army of Estremadura. Fortunately they were not needed: the Spanish General was for once cautious: he followed Victor at a respectful distance, and when he had reached the Tagus and repaired the bridge of Almaraz, held back his army to the southern bank and only pushed a few small detachments beyond the stream to search for the enemy. Since the French had withdrawn to Talavera on June 26 there was no collision. The cavalry of the 1st Corps were discovered upon the upper Tietar and the Alberche, but they preserved a defensive attitude, and the Spaniards did not provoke them by any rash attempt to drive them back upon their main body. All remained quiet, as Wellesley had rather desired than expected.

Cuesta’s strategical position, therefore, was perfectly secure, since he kept his main body to the south of the river, and showed no desire to meddle with Victor before the arrival of the British. At this moment military affairs were not the only things that were engaging the attention of the old Captain-General. He[p. 464] was watching with considerable anxiety the course of events at Seville, where he was aware that he had many enemies. Ever since his high-handed action against the deputies of Leon in the preceding autumn, he knew that the Central Junta, and especially its Liberal wing, viewed him with suspicion and dislike. It was with great reluctance that they had placed him in command of the Estremaduran army, and if he had not been popular with the Conservative and clerical party and with some of the military cliques, he would not have retained his post for long. At this moment there were many intrigues stirring in Andalusia, and if some of them were directed against the Junta, others had no other end than the changing of the commanders of the various armies. While the Junta were debating about forms of government, and especially about the summoning of a national Cortes in the autumn, there were a number of officers of damaged reputation whose main object was to recover the military rank of which they had been deprived after misfortunes in the field. Infantado, who thought that it was absurd that he should have been disgraced after Ucles, while Cuesta had been rewarded after Medellin, was at the head of one party of intriguers, which included Francisco Palafox and the Conde de Montijo, and had secured the aid of Colonel Doyle, late British agent in Aragon and Catalonia, an officer who showed a lamentable readiness to throw himself into the intestine quarrels of the Spanish factions[586]. Their actions went to the very edge of high treason, for Montijo stirred up a riot at Granada on April 16, attacked the provincial authorities, and almost succeeded in carrying out a pronunciamiento which must have led to civil war. The Junta did no more than banish him to San Lucar, from which place he continued his plots with Infantado, in spite of the warning that he had received.

In Seville, faction if not so openly displayed was equally violent. There was, as we have already said, a large section of the Junta whose dearest wish would have been to displace Cuesta: it was they who had obtained the nomination of Venegas[p. 465] to take charge of the troops in La Mancha, merely because he was known to be an enemy of the elder general. Yet since the two armies would have to co-operate in any attempt to recover Madrid, it was clearly inexpedient that their commanders should be at enmity. Some of the politicians at Seville were set on giving high command to the Duke of Albuquerque, an energetic and ambitious officer, but one gifted with the talent of quarrelling with every superior under whom he served: he was now bickering with Cuesta just as in March he had bickered with Cartaojal. The Duke was a great admirer of all things English, and a personal friend of Frere, the British minister. The latter did his best to support his pretensions, often expressing in official correspondence with the Junta a desire that Albuquerque might be given an independent corps, and entrusted with the charge of the movement that was to be concerted in conjunction with Wellesley’s army.

But it was not so much Albuquerque as Wellesley himself that Cuesta dreaded as a possible successor. For Frere was possessed with the notion that the time had now arrived at which it would be possible to press for the appointment of a single Commander-in-chief of all the Spanish armies. The obvious person to fill this post was the victor of Vimiero and Oporto, if only Spanish pride would consent to the appointment of a foreigner. Frere had sufficient sense to refrain from openly publishing his idea. But he was continually ventilating it to his private friends in the Junta, in season and out of season. There can be no doubt that both from the military and the political point of view the results of Wellesley’s exaltation to the position of Generalissimo would have been excellent. If he had controlled the whole of the Spanish armies in the summer of 1809, the course of affairs in the Peninsula would have taken a very different turn, and the campaign of Talavera would not have been wrecked by the hopeless want of co-operation between the allied armies. But it was not yet the time to press for the appointment: great as Wellesley’s reputation already was, when compared with that of any Spanish general, it was still not so splendid or so commanding as to compel assent to his promotion[587]. Legitimate national pride stood in the way, and[p. 466] even after Espinosa, and Tudela, and Medellin the Spaniards could not believe that it was necessary for them to entrust the whole responsibility for the defence of their country to the foreigner. Only a few of the politicians of Seville showed any liking for the project. Wellesley himself would have desired nothing so much as this appointment, but being wiser and less hopeful than Frere, he thought it useless to press the point. When the sanguine diplomat wrote to him, early in June, to detail his attempts to bring home the advisability of the project to his Spanish friends, the general’s reply was cautious in the extreme. ‘I am much flattered,’ he said, ‘by the notion entertained by some of the persons in authority at Seville, of appointing me to the command of the Spanish armies. I have received no instruction from Government upon that subject: but I believe that it was considered an object of great importance in England that the Commander-in-chief of the British troops should have that situation. But it is one more likely to be attained by refraining from pressing it, and leaving it to the Spanish themselves to discover the expediency of the arrangement, than by any suggestion on our parts.’ He concluded by informing Frere that he could not conceive that his insinuation was likely to have any effect, and that the opinion of the British Ministry was probably correct—viz. that at present national jealousy made the project hopeless[588].

Now it was impossible that Frere’s well-meaning but mistaken endeavours should escape the notice of Cuesta’s friends in Seville. The British Minister had spoken to so many politicians on the subject, that we cannot doubt that his colloquies were promptly reported to the Captain-General of Estremadura. This fact goes far to explain Cuesta’s surly and impracticable behaviour towards Wellesley during the Talavera campaign. He disliked his destined colleague not only because he was a foreigner, and because he showed himself strong-willed and outspoken during[p. 467] their intercourse, but because he believed that the Englishman was intriguing behind his back to obtain the post of Generalissimo. This belief made him determined to assert his independence on the most trifling matters, loth to fall in with even the most reasonable plans, and suspicious that every proposal made to him concealed some trap. He attributed to Wellesley the design of getting rid of him, and was naturally determined to do nothing to forward it.

The English officers who studied Cuesta’s conduct from the outside, during the Talavera campaign, attributed his irrational movements and his hopeless impracticability to a mere mixture of pride, stupidity, and obstinacy. They were wrong; the dominant impulse was resentment, jealousy, and suspicion—a combination far more deadly in its results than the other. He awaited the approach of Wellesley with a predisposition to quarrel and a well-developed personal enmity, whose existence the British general had not yet realized.

We have dealt in the last chapter with the strength and organization of the British army at the moment when Wellesley crossed the frontier on July 3. It remains to speak of the two Spanish armies which were to take part in the campaign. We have already seen that Cuesta’s host had been reinforced after Medellin with a new brigade of Granadan levies, and a whole division taken from the army of La Mancha[589]. Since that date he had received large drafts both of infantry and cavalry from Andalusia. Six more regiments of horse had reached him, besides reinforcements for his old corps. All were now strong in numbers, and averaged between 400 and 500 sabres, so that by the middle of June he had fully 7,000 mounted men under his orders. Eight or nine additional regiments of infantry had also come to hand since April—some of them new Andalusian levies, others old corps whose cadres had been filled up since the disaster of Ucles. His infantry counted about 35,000 bayonets, divided into[p. 468] five divisions and a ‘vanguard’: the latter under Zayas was about 4,000 strong, each of the others exceeded 5,000. The cavalry formed two divisions, under Henestrosa and Albuquerque, one composed of seven, one of six regiments. There were thirty guns—some of heavy calibre, nine-and twelve-pounders—with about 800 artillerymen. The whole army, inclusive of sick and detached, amounted to 42,000 men, of whom perhaps 36,000 were efficients present with the colours[590].

The second Spanish army, that of La Mancha under Venegas, was much weaker, having furnished heavy detachments to reinforce Cuesta before it took the field in June. Its base was the old ‘Army of the Centre,’ which had been commanded by Casta?os and Infantado. Some twenty battalions that had seen service in the campaign of Tudela were still in its ranks: they had been recruited up to an average of 500 or 600 bayonets. The rest of the force was composed of new Andalusian regiments, raised in the winter and spring, some of which had taken part in the rout of Ciudad Real under Cartaojal, while others had never before entered the field. The gross total of the army on June 16 was 26,298 men, of whom 3,383 were cavalry. Deducting the sick in hospital, Venegas could dispose of some 23,000 sabres and bayonets, distributed into five divisions. The horsemen in this army were not formed into separate brigades, but allotted as divisional cavalry to the infantry units. There was little to choose, in point of efficiency, between the Estremaduran army and that of La Mancha; both contained too many raw troops, and in both, as was soon to be proved, the bulk of the cavalry was still as untrustworthy as it had shown itself in previous engagements.

The Spaniards therefore could put into the field for the campaign of July on the Tagus some 60,000 men. But the fatal want of unity in command was to prevent them from co-ordinating their movements and acting as integral parts of a single army guided by a single will. Venegas was to a certain degree supposed to be under Cuesta’s authority, but as he was continually receiving orders directly from the Junta, and was[p. 469] treated by them as an independent commander, he practically was enabled to do much as he pleased. Being a personal enemy of Cuesta, he had every inducement to play his own game, and did not scruple to do so at the most important crisis of the campaign,—covering his disregard of the directions of his senior by the easy pretext of a desire to execute those of the central government.

On July 15, the day when his share in the campaign commenced, the head quarters of Venegas were at Santa Cruz de Mudela, just outside the northern exit of the Despe?a Perros. His outposts lay in front, at El Moral, Valdepe?as, and Villanueva de los Infantes. He was divided by a considerable distance—some twenty-five miles—from the advanced cavalry of Sebastiani’s corps, whose nearest detachment was placed at Villaharta, where the high-road to Madrid crosses the river Giguela.

Meanwhile we must return to Wellesley, who having crossed the frontier on July 3, was now moving forward by short marches to Plasencia. On the fourth the head quarters were at Zarza la Mayor, on the sixth at Coria, on the seventh at Galisteo; on the eighth Plasencia was reached, and the general halted the army, while he should ride over to Almaraz and confer in person with Cuesta on the details of their plan of campaign. In the valley of the Alagon, where the country was almost untouched by the hand of war, provisions were obtainable in some quantity, but every Spanish informant agreed that when the troops dropped down to the Tagus they would find the land completely devastated. Wellesley was therefore most anxious to organize a great dép?t of food before moving on: the local authorities professed great readiness to supply him, and he contracted with the Alcaldes of the fertile Vera de Plasencia for 250,000 rations of flour to be delivered during the next ten days[591]. Lozano de Torres, the Spanish commissary-general sent by the Junta to the British head quarters, promised his aid in collecting the food, but even before Wellesley departed to visit Cuesta, he had begun to conceive doubts whether supplies would be easily procurable. The difficulty was want of transport—the army had marched from Portugal with a light equipment, and had no carts to spare for scouring the country[p. 470]-side in search of flour. The General had relied on the assurances sent him from Seville to the effect that he would easily be able to find local transport in the intact regions about Coria and Plasencia: but he was disappointed: very few carts could be secured, and the store of food in the possession of the army seemed to shrink rather than to increase during every day that the army remained in the valley of the Alagon, though the region was fruitful and undevastated. It is certain that the British commissaries had not yet mastered the art of gathering in provisions from the country-side, and that the Spanish local authorities could not be made to understand the necessity for punctuality and dispatch in the delivery of the promised supplies.

On July 10 Wellesley started off with the head-quarters staff to visit Cuesta, at his camp beyond the bridge of Almaraz, there to concert the details of their joint advance. Owing to an error made by his guides he arrived after dusk at the hamlet below the Puerto de Mirabete, around which the main body of the Army of Estremadura was encamped. The Captain-General had drawn out his troops in the afternoon for the inspection of the British commander. When at last he appeared they had been four hours under arms in momentary expectation of the arrival of their distinguished visitor, and Cuesta himself, though still lame from the effect of his bruises at Medellin, had sat on horseback at their head during the greater part of that time.

Two admirable accounts of the review of the Estremaduran host in the darkness were written by members of Wellesley’s staff. It is well worth while to quote one of them[592], for the narrative expresses with perfect clearness the effect which the sight of the Spanish troops made upon their allies:—

‘Our arrival at the camp was announced by a general discharge of artillery, upon which an immense number of torches were made to blaze up, and we passed the entire Spanish line in review by their light. The effect produced by these arrangements was one of no ordinary character. The torches, held aloft at moderate intervals, threw a red and wavering light over the whole scene, permitting at the same time its minuter parts[p. 471] to be here and there cast into the shade, while the grim and swarthy visages of the soldiers, their bright arms and dark uniforms, appeared peculiarly picturesque as often as the flashes fell upon them. Nor was Cuesta himself an object to be passed by without notice: the old man preceded us, not so much sitting upon his horse as held upon it by two pages, at the imminent risk of being overthrown whenever a cannon was discharged, or a torch flamed out with peculiar brightness. His physical debility was so observable as clearly to mark his unfitness for the situation which he held. As to his mental powers, he gave us little opportunity of judging, inasmuch as he scarcely uttered five words during the continuance of our visit: but his corporal infirmities were ever at absolute variance with all a general’s duties.

‘In this way we passed by about 6,000 cavalry drawn up in rank entire, and not less than twenty battalions of infantry, each of 700 to 800 bayonets. They were all, without exception, remarkably fine men. Some indeed were very young—too young for service—particularly among the recruits who had lately joined. But to take them all in all, it would not have been easy to find a stouter or more hardy looking body of soldiers in any European service. Of their appointments it was not possible to speak in the same terms of commendation. There were battalions whose arms, accoutrements, and even clothing might be pronounced respectable[593]: but in general[p. 472] they were deficient, particularly in shoes. It was easy to perceive, from the attitude in which they stood, and the manner in which they handled their arms, that little or no discipline prevailed among them: they could not but be regarded as raw levies. Speaking of them in the aggregate they were little better than bold peasantry, armed partially like soldiers, but completely unacquainted with a soldier’s duty. This remark applied to the cavalry as much as to the infantry. Many of the horses were good, but the riders manifestly knew nothing of movement or of discipline: and they were on this account, as also on that of miserable equipment, quite unfit for service. The generals appeared to have been selected by one rule alone—that of seniority. They were almost all old men, and, except O’Donoju and Zayas, evidently incapable of bearing the fatigues or surmounting the difficulties of a campaign. It was not so with the colonels and battalion commanders, who appeared to be young and active, and some of whom were, we had reason to believe, learning to become skilful officers.... Cuesta seemed particularly unwilling that any of his generals should hold any serious conversation with us. It is true that he presented them one by one to Sir Arthur, but no words were exchanged on the occasion, and each retired after he had made his bow.’ Albuquerque, of whom the Captain-General was particularly jealous, had been relegated with his division to Arzobispo, and did not appear on the scene.

The all-important plan of campaign was settled at a long conference—it lasted for four hours—on the morning of the following day. According to all accounts the scene at the interview must have been curious. Cuesta could not, or would not, speak French: Wellesley was not yet able to express himself fluently in Spanish. Accordingly, O’Donoju, the chief of the staff of the Army of Estremadura, acted as interpreter between them, rendering Wellesley’s views into Spanish and Cuesta’s into English. The greater part of the discussion consisted in the bringing forward of plans by the British commander and their rejection by the Captain-General. Cuesta was full of suspicion,[p. 473] and saw a trap in every proposal that was made to him: he imagined that Wellesley’s main object was to edge him out of the supreme command. He was almost silent throughout the interview, only opening his lips to give emphatic negatives, for which O’Donoju proceeded to find ingenious and elaborate explanations.

It was not the principles on which the campaign was to be conducted, but the details of the distribution of the troops on which the trouble arose. The enemy’s position and force was fairly well known to both generals, except in one all-important particular. They were aware that Victor lay behind the Alberche with not much more than 22,000 men, that Sebastiani was at Madridejos with a somewhat smaller force[594], and that King Joseph with his central reserve, which they over-estimated at 12,000 men, was able at any moment to join the 1st Corps. Hence they expected to find some 34,000 French troops at Talavera, and rightly considered that with the 55,000 men of their two armies they ought to give a good account of them. Sebastiani, as they supposed, might be left out of the game, for occupation for him would be found by the army of La Mancha, which was to be told off for this purpose and directed to cling to the skirts of the 4th Corps and never to lose sight of it. As Venegas would have, according to their calculations, nearly double the numbers of Sebastiani, he would have no difficulty in keeping him in check.

But it was not only on the French troops in New Castile that watch had to be kept. It was necessary to take into account the enemy beyond the mountains, in the valley of the Douro. The allied generals were aware that Mortier and Soult must both be considered. The former they knew to be at Valladolid, and they had learnt that King Joseph was proposing to bring him down towards Madrid—as was indeed the fact. Accordingly they expected that he might turn up in a few days somewhere in the direction of Avila. Soult they knew to be at Zamora, and from the dispatches captured with General Franceschi ten days before, they had a good knowledge of his force and intentions. A study of these documents led them to conclude[p. 474] that he could not move for many weeks, owing to the dilapidated state of his corps—which he had painted in the most moving terms in his letters to King Joseph[595]. They also gathered that if he moved at all, he would be inclined to threaten Northern Portugal or Ciudad Rodrigo: in the dispatches captured with Franceschi he had named Braganza as a point at which he might strike. Accordingly they opined that he need not be taken very seriously into consideration, especially as he was wholly destitute of artillery[596]. Yet he might be drawn into the field by the news that Madrid was in danger. If he were induced to bring help to the King, he would almost certainly work by making a diversion against the communications of the British army, and not by directly joining himself to Joseph’s army by the long and circuitous march from Zamora to Madrid. To carry out such a diversion he would be obliged to cross the lofty Sierra de Francia by one of the passes which lead from the Salamanca region into the valley of the[p. 475] Alagon—perhaps by the defile of Perales, but much more probably by the better known and more practicable pass of Ba?os. Wellesley took the possibility of this movement into serious consideration, but did not think that it would be likely to cause him much danger if it should occur, for he believed that Soult would bring with him no more than the 15,000 or 18,000 men of his own 2nd Corps. That he would appear not with such a small force, but with Ney and Mortier in his wake, leading an army of 50,000 bayonets, did not enter into the mind of the British commander. Mortier was thought to be moving in the direction of Avila: Ney was believed to be contending with the Galician insurgents in the remote regions about Lugo and Corunna. The news of his arrival at Astorga had not yet reached the allied camps, and he was neglected as a factor in the situation. Wellesley and Cuesta had no conception that any force save that of Soult was likely to menace their northern flank and their line of communications when they committed themselves to their advance on Madrid. To provide against a possible movement of the 2nd Corps into the valley of the Tagus, therefore, all that was necessary was to hold the defiles of Perales and Ba?os. The former had already been seen to, for even before the meeting of Wellesley and Cuesta, Carlos d’Espa?a had blocked it with two or three battalions drawn from the garrison of Ciudad Rodrigo. For the latter Wellesley hoped that Cuesta would provide a sufficient garrison[597]. The old Captain-General promised to do so, but only sent 600 men under the Marquis Del Reino, a wholly inadequate detachment[598].

Wellesley’s first proposal to his Spanish colleague was that the main bodies of both armies should advance against Victor, while a detachment of 10,000 men should move out to the left, in the direction of Avila, to look for Mortier, if he were to be[p. 476] found in that direction, and if not to turn the enemy’s right and threaten Madrid. He hoped that Venegas and the army of La Mancha might at the same time move forward against Sebastiani, and keep him so fully employed that he would not be able to spare a man to aid Victor and King Joseph.

Cuesta at once refused to make any detachment in the direction of Avila from his own army, and suggested that Wellesley should find the 10,000 men required for this diversion. The English general objected that it would take exactly half his force, and that he could not split up such a small unit, while the Spaniards could easily spare such a number of troops from their total of 36,000 men. This argument failed to move Cuesta, and the project was dropped, Wellesley thinking that it was not strictly necessary, though very advisable[599].

The only flanking force which was finally set aside for operations on the left wing, for the observation of the French about Avila and the feint at Madrid, consisted of Sir Robert Wilson’s 1,500 Portuguese, and a corresponding body of two battalions and one squadron from the Spanish army[600]—about 3,500 men in all. It played a part of some little importance in the campaign, but it is hard to see that it would have exercised any dominant influence even if it had been raised to the full strength that Wellesley had desired. Mortier, as a matter of fact, was not near Avila, and so the 10,000 men sent in this direction would not have served the end that the British general expected. The 5th Corps had been called off by Soult, contrary to the wishes of the King, and no body of troops was needed to contain it, on this part of the theatre of war. It was ultimately to appear at a very different point, where no provision had been made for its reception.

[p. 477]

Far more important were the arrangements which Wellesley and Cuesta made for the diversion on their other flank. It was from the miscarriage of this operation, owing to the wilful disobedience of the officer charged with it, that the failure of the whole campaign was to come about. They agreed that Venegas with the 23,000 men of the army of La Mancha, was to move up the high-road from his position at Santa Cruz de Mudela, and drive Sebastiani before him. Having pushed back the 4th Corps to the Tagus, Venegas was then to endeavour to force the passage of that river either at Aranjuez or at Fuentedue?as, and to threaten Madrid. It was calculated that Sebastiani would be forced to keep between him and the capital, and would be unable to spare a man to reinforce Victor and King Joseph. Thus Wellesley and Cuesta with 56,000 men would close on the King and the Marshal, who could not have more than 35,000, and (as it was hoped) defeat them or at least man?uvre them out of Madrid. A glance at the map will show one peculiarity of this plan: it would have been more natural to bid Venegas march by the bridge of Toledo rather than by those of Aranjuez and Fuentedue?as; to use the latter he would have to move towards his right, and to separate himself by a long gap from the main army of the allies. At Toledo he would be within thirty-five miles of them—at Aranjuez seventy, at Fuentedue?as 100 miles would lie between him and the troops of Wellesley and Cuesta. It would appear that the two generals at their colloquy came to the conclusion that by ordering Venegas to use the eastern passages of the Tagus they would compel Sebastiani to remove eastward also, so that he would be out of supporting distance of Victor. They recognized the bare possibility that Sebastiani might refuse to devote himself to the task of holding back the army of La Mancha, might leave Madrid to its fate, and then hurry off to join the King and the 1st Corps in an assault on the main Anglo-Spanish army. In this case they settled that Venegas should march on the capital and seize it, a move which (as they supposed) would force Joseph to turn back or to re-divide his army[601]. But it is clear that[p. 478] they did not expect to have to fight Victor, the King, and Sebastiani combined, as they were ultimately forced to do at Talavera on July 28. They supposed that Venegas would find occupation for the 4th Corps, and that they might count on finding only the 1st Corps and Joseph’s Madrid reserves in front of them.

When armies are working in a joint operation from separate bases it is all-important that they should time their movements with the nicest exactitude. This Wellesley and Cuesta attempted to secure, by sending to Venegas an elaborate time-table. He was ordered to be at Madridejos on July 19, at Tembleque on the twentieth, at Santa Cruz de la Zarza on the twenty-first, and at the bridge of Fuentedue?as on the twenty-second or twenty-third. All this was on the supposition that Sebastiani would have about 12,000 men and would give ground whenever pressed. If he turned out by some unlikely chance—presumably by having rallied the King’s reserves—to be much stronger, Venegas was to man?uvre in the direction of Tarancon, to avoid a general action, and if necessary to retreat towards the Passes from which he had started. It would be rather an advantage than otherwise if (contrary to all probability) the French had concentrated their main force against the army of La Mancha, for this would leave Victor helpless in front of the united hosts of Wellesley and Cuesta, which would outnumber him by two to one.
A Portuguese Cavalry Soldier

Enlarge  SPANISH COINS OF THE PERIOD OF THE PENINSULAR WAR

What the allied generals never expected was that Venegas would let Sebastiani slip away from his front, without any attempt to hold him, and would then (instead of marching on Madrid) waste the critical days of the campaign (July 24-29) in miserable delays between Toledo and Aranjuez, when there was absolutely no French field-force between him and Madrid, nor any hostile troops whatever in his neighbourhood save a weak division of 3,000 men in garrison at Toledo. The failure of the Talavera campaign is due even more to this wretched indecision and disobedience to orders on the part of Venegas than to the eccentricities and errors of Cuesta. If the army of La Mancha had kept Sebastiani in check, and refused to allow him to abscond, there would have been no battles on the Alberche on July 27-28, for the French would never have dared to face the [p. 479]Anglo-Spaniards of the main host without the assistance of the 4th Corps.

But to return to the joint plan of Wellesley and Cuesta: on July 23, the day on which Venegas was to reach Fuentedue?as (or Aranjuez) the 56,000 men of the grand army were to be assailing Victor behind the Alberche. The British were to cross the Tietar at Bazagona on the eighteenth and follow the high-road Navalmoral-Oropesa. The Estremadurans, passing the Tagus at Almaraz and Arzobispo, were to move by the parallel route along the river bank by La Calzada and Calera, which is only five or six miles distant from the great chaussée. Thus the two armies would be in close touch with each other, and would not be caught apart by the enemy. On reaching Talavera they were to force the fords of the Alberche and fall upon Victor in his cantonments behind that stream. Sir Robert Wilson and the 3,500 men of his mixed Spanish and Portuguese detachment were to move up as the flank-guard of the allied host, and to push by the head waters of the Tietar for Escalona on the side-road to Madrid[602].

Criticisms of the most acrimonious kind have been brought to bear on this plan by English, French, and Spanish writers. Many of them are undeserved; in particular the tritest objection of all, made ex post facto by those who only look at the actual course of the campaign, that Wellesley was exposing his communications to the united forces of Soult, Ney, and Mortier. There was on July 10, when Cuesta and Wellesley met, no reason whatever for apprehending the contingency of the march of the three marshals upon Plasencia. Soult, as his own letters of June 25 bore witness, was not in a condition to move—he had not a single piece of artillery, and his troops were in dire need of rest and re-equipment. Ney was believed to be at Corunna or Lugo—Soult’s intercepted dispatches spoke of the 6th Corps as being destined to remain behind in Galicia, and he (as the allied generals supposed) ought best to have known what his colleague was about to do. How could they have guessed that, in wrath at his desertion by the Duke of Dalmatia, Ney would evacuate the whole kingdom, abandon fortresses like[p. 480] Ferrol and Corunna, and march for Astorga? Without Ney’s corps to aid him, Soult could not possibly have marched on Plasencia—to have done so with the 2nd Corps alone would have exposed him to being beset by Wellesley on one side and by Beresford on the other. As to Mortier and the 5th Corps, Cuesta and Wellesley undervalued their strength, being unaware that Kellermann had sent back from the Asturias the division that had been lent him for his expedition to Oviedo. They thought that the Duke of Treviso’s force was more like 7,000 than 17,000 bayonets, and—such as it was—they had the best of reasons for believing that it was more likely to march on Madrid by Avila than to join Soult, for they had before them an intercepted dispatch from the King, bidding Mortier to move down to Villacastin in order to be in supporting distance of the capital and the 1st Corps.

On the whole, therefore, the two generals must be excused for not foreseeing the descent of 50,000 men upon their communications, which took place three weeks after their meeting at the bridge of Almaraz: the data in their possession on July 10 made it appear most improbable.

A much more valid criticism is that which blames the method of co-operation with Venegas which was employed. ‘Double external lines of operations’ against an enemy placed in a central position are notoriously perilous, and the particular movement on Fuentedue?as, which the army of La Mancha was ordered to execute, was one which took it as far as possible from Wellesley’s and Cuesta’s main body. Yet it may be urged in their defence that, if they had drawn in Venegas to join them, they would have got little profit out of having 23,000 more Spaniards on the Alberche. Sebastiani on the other hand, who could join Victor at the same moment that the corps from La Mancha joined the allies, would bring some 17,000 excellent troops to Talavera. The benefit of drawing in Venegas would be much less than the disadvantage of drawing in Sebastiani to the main theatre of war. Hence came the idea that the army from the Passes must be devoted to the sole purpose of keeping the 4th Corps as far as possible from the Alberche. Even knowing that Venegas was hostile to Cuesta, and that he was a man of no mark or capacity, Wellesley could not have expected[p. 481] that he would disobey orders, waste time, and fail utterly in keeping touch with Sebastiani or threatening Madrid.

The one irreparable fault in the drawing up of the whole plan of campaign was the fundamental one that Wellesley had undertaken to co-operate with Spanish armies before he had gauged the weak points of the generals and their men. If he had held the post of commander-in-chief of the allied forces, and could have issued orders that were obeyed without discussion, the case would have been different. But he had to act in conjunction with two colleagues, one of whom was suspicious of his intentions and jealous of his preponderant capacity, while the other deliberately neglected to carry out clear and cogent orders from his superior officer. Cuesta’s impracticability and Venegas’s disobedience could not have been foreseen by one who had no previous experience of Spanish armies. Still less had Wellesley realized all the defects of the Spanish rank and file when placed in line of battle. That he did not hold an exaggerated opinion of their merits when he started on the campaign is shown by letters which he wrote nine months before[603]. But he was still under the impression that, if cautiously handled, and not exposed to unnecessary dangers, they would do good service. He had yet to witness the gratuitous panic of Portago’s division on the eve of Talavera, and the helplessness of the Spanish cavalry at the combats of Gamonal and Arzobispo. After a month’s experience of Cuesta and his men, Wellesley vowed never again to take part in grand operations with a Spanish general as his equal and colleague. This was the teaching of experience—and on July 10 the experience was yet to come.

The interview at the bridge of Almaraz had not been very satisfactory to Wellesley, but it was far from having undeceived him as to the full extent of the difficulties that lay before him. He wrote to Frere at Seville that he had been on the whole well received, and that Cuesta had not displayed any jealousy of him. As that sentiment was at this moment the predominant feeling in the old man’s breast, it is clear that he had succeeded in hiding it. But the obstinate silence of Wellesley’s colleague had worried him. O’Donoju had done all the talking, and ‘it was impossible to say what plans the general entertains.[p. 482]’ He was moreover somewhat perturbed by the rumours which his staff had picked up from the Estremaduran officers, to the effect that Cuesta was so much the enemy of the Central Junta that he was plotting a pronunciamiento for its deposition[604]. As to the fighting powers of the Spanish army, Wellesley wrote to Castlereagh that ‘the troops were ill clothed but well armed, and the officers appeared to take pains with their discipline. Some of the corps of infantry were certainly good, and the horses of the cavalry were in good condition.’ Only ten days later he was to utter the very different opinion that ‘owing to their miserable state of discipline and their want of officers properly qualified, these troops are entirely incapable of performing any man?uvre however simple[605],’ and that ‘whole corps, officers and men, run off on the first appearance of danger[606].’

The British Commander-in-chief had indeed many moral and mental experiences to go through between the interview at Mirabete on July 10, and the retreat from Talavera on August 2!