SECTION XXI: CHAPTER V

MASSéNA BEFORE THE LINES OF TORRES VEDRAS: HIS RETREAT TO SANTAREM (OCTOBER–NOVEMBER 1810)

On the night of October 10, when Craufurd made his hasty retreat to Sobral, and went within the Lines, Montbrun had his head quarters at Alemquer, where he kept Taupin’s infantry brigade, and Lamotte’s and Sainte-Croix’s cavalry. Pierre Soult’s light horse felt towards their left, in the direction of the Tagus, and occupied Carregado, where they failed to find any British outposts, Hill’s corps having been withdrawn behind the brook which enters the Tagus near Castanheira. The main body of the army was far to the rear, in one vast column: Ney’s and Reynier’s corps lay that night in and about Alcoentre: Junot’s bivouacked around the convent of Nossa Senhora de Maxeira, a short distance to the south of Alcoentre. All the troops were terribly fatigued by three days’ movement in torrential rain, and had no more marching-power left in them.

It was only on the following morning (October 11) that Montbrun discovered the Lines. His cavalry had been ordered to move forward on the two roads across which they lay. Pierre Soult therefore pushed for Villafranca, on the high road which skirts the Tagus; he found Hill’s outlying pickets at Villafranca, drove them out of the town, and on passing it came in sight of the line of redoubts and scarped hillside above Alhandra, which was manned by the Portuguese militia and backed by Hill’s British infantry. It was impossible to advance further, so the brigadier, leaving an advanced post in Villafranca, drew back his three regiments to Castanheira, and sent his report to Montbrun.

That general himself, with the main body of his cavalry, had followed the rough road from Alemquer to Lisbon. He drove in some British dragoon pickets, and then arrived in front of the village of Sobral, which he found occupied by the infantry[p. 438] outposts of Spencer’s division. He did not attempt to push further that day, as his flanking reconnaissance had come in sight of the sections of the Lines behind Arruda and behind Zibreira, where redoubts and solid lines of infantry were visible. Sobral itself was clearly not held in force, nor did it form an integral part of the British position. But Montbrun feared to attack it, when he had only a single brigade of infantry to the front, while many thousands of British troops might issue from the Lines to overwhelm him if he committed himself to a serious attack. The village on its knoll was left alone for the present, though it was tempting to contemplate the seizure of a point which lay so far forward—less than two miles from the front of Wellington’s chosen position. But Montbrun contented himself with sending back word to Masséna that he had come upon a continuous line of fortifications stretching from the Tagus bank to some point westward, which was not yet discovered. For his furthest reconnaissances towards Runa and the Upper Zizandre had found the enemy in front of them, however far they pushed.

Meanwhile Masséna’s tired infantry of the main body had made hardly any movement: the 2nd and 6th Corps still lay about Alcoentre. Junot alone with the 8th Corps advanced as far as Moinho de Cubo, half way between Alcoentre and Alemquer. Thus Wellington was given a whole day more to arrange his troops in their positions along the Lines. On this morning he was rather under the impression that the French attack would be directed upon Alhandra and Hill’s corps, which, he observed, would be a ‘tough job, defended as all the entrances of the valleys are by redoubts, and the villages by abattis[501].’ Moreover, the French ‘positively could not’ get guns up to attack the line west of Hill, since, in the existing state of the weather, no cannon could leave the paved roads, and the only path of that description leading from the Sobral direction to the Tagus bank ran through Arruda, where Craufurd and the Light Division were now comfortably installed. Considering it likely, therefore, that Masséna would bring a heavy attacking force, by circuitous roads from the rear, to Villafranca, in order to make a frontal attack on Hill along[p. 439] the high-road by the Tagus, Wellington warned Craufurd and Spencer to be ready to move in eastward to the assistance of the extreme right wing of the Lines. In the afternoon, however, he discovered that the force in front of Sobral (Montbrun) seemed much larger than that in front of Alhandra (Pierre Soult), and showed more signs of making wide-spreading reconnaissances. He therefore drew up an alternative scheme, by which, in the event of an attack on Spencer’s front at Zibreira, Cole’s and Campbell’s (the new 6th) divisions were to support the threatened point, and even Picton was to come in from the distant Torres Vedras[502]. No French troops were reported from this last direction, and De Grey’s cavalry pickets from Ramalhal (far outside the Lines) reported that not the smallest party of the enemy’s horse had been seen west of the Serra de Barregudo or the Monte Junta[503].

On the 12th Montbrun made a movement which seemed to justify Wellington’s first idea, that Hill was to receive the French attack. He moved Taupin’s brigade, the only hostile infantry which had yet been seen, southward from Alemquer to Villafranca on the Tagus. This was done, however, only because the whole 8th Corps was coming up on this day from Moinho de Cubo by Alemquer to Sobral, which it reached in the afternoon, replacing Taupin’s small force. Its arrival was at once reported to Wellington, who saw that his second theory of the intention of the enemy, not his first, had been correct, and transferred his main attention to the side of Sobral. That village, by some extraordinary blunder on the part of Sir Brent Spencer, had been evacuated by the pickets of the 1st Division during the night of the 11th-12th[504]. They were put back into it, by the special orders of the Commander-in-Chief, in[p. 440] the early morning, for Wellington wished to hold it as long as was safe, on account of the fine view obtainable from its knoll over the routes from Alemquer by which the enemy must approach. Hence, when Junot’s advanced guard came up in the afternoon, there was a collision at Sobral. The troops of Clausel finally succeeded in expelling the British outposts, which belonged to Erskine’s and L?we’s brigade, from the village. The casualties were few on both sides—nineteen men only were lost by the British[505]. The retiring pickets did not fall back into the Lines, but clung to the other side of the ravine which separates Sobral from the lower slopes of Monte Agra?a. They were only 300 yards from the village.

While this skirmish was in progress the main body of the French were at last set in motion from Alcoentre. The 6th Corps advanced this day (October 12) to Moinho de Cubo and Otta; the 2nd Corps, taking a road more to the east, so as to lean towards the Tagus, arrived at Carregado. Junot’s corps was encamped behind Sobral, Clausel’s division having its advanced posts (Brigade Ménard) in the village, while Solignac lay two miles to the rear. The weather was still abominable, and all the movements were accomplished with great fatigue and delay.

On this afternoon the French army suffered the loss of its most brilliant and energetic cavalry officer. General Sainte-Croix, while exploring the Tagus bank, north of Villafranca, in search of deserted boats, was cut in two by a cannon shot from a British gunboat which was watching his cavalry from the estuary. He was held to be the only officer, except Colonel Pelet, who had any personal influence with Masséna[506], and as that influence was always exerted on the side of daring action, it is probable that the many French diarists who deplore his death are right in considering that it may have had some positive effect on the conduct of the campaign[507].

[p. 441]

On the night of the 12th-13th Wellington had become convinced, and rightly, that the great mass of Junot’s corps, visible behind Sobral, constituted the main danger to his position. He therefore drew in troops from his right, even calling down from Torres Vedras Picton, in whose front no enemy was yet visible. From Monte Agra?a to the Portello redoubts he put in line four British divisions—Spencer, Cole, Picton, and Campbell, along with Pack’s independent Portuguese brigade; this last was placed in the great redoubt on Monte Agra?a, which dominated Sobral and all the lower hills. In reserve were two more divisions—the 5th under Leith, and a temporary Portuguese division consisting of the brigades of Coleman and Alex. Campbell. Altogether 30,000 men were concentrated on this comparatively short front of about four miles, besides the militia and artillery who garrisoned the minor forts[508]. Junot, whose corps did not now muster more than 12,000 men, did wisely to refrain from making any serious attack. He was not, however, wholly quiescent: attempting to extend his troops more to the right, to the west of Sobral, along the undulating ground in the direction of the Upper Zizandre, he got into touch with the outlying pickets of Cole’s division, which stood beyond those of Spencer and Picton in the British line. The first attack fell on the light companies of the 7th Fusiliers and the newly-arrived Brunswick Oels battalion. When they were driven in, Cole fed his fighting-line with the light companies of Hervey’s [late Collins’s] Portuguese brigade. Finding his voltigeurs outnumbered, Junot, in a similar fashion, sent up Gratien’s brigade from his second division to reinforce his advance. Hence there ensued[p. 442] some sharp skirmishing, which lasted several hours, till Cole drew back his outpost line from the lower plateaux north of Sobral to the foot of his fighting-position, on the heights below the Portello redoubts. Junot had thus gained a mile of ground, but not ground that was of any service to him for a regular attack on the Lines, since it was merely part of the rolling upland that was dominated by Wellington’s main position. The 4th Division lost twenty-five British and a much larger number of Portuguese in this long bicker. Hervey the Portuguese brigadier was wounded. The French casualties were probably a little the larger[509].

On the same afternoon Reynier, with somewhat over a battalion of infantry, made a detailed reconnaissance of Hill’s position in front of Alhandra. He pressed in close enough to draw the fire of the nearer redoubts, but halted when he had realized the strength of the line opposite him, and reported to Masséna that he considered the right wing of the allied position hopelessly impracticable for an attack.

Next morning (October 14) the French Commander-in-Chief came up in person from the rear. It is astonishing that he had made no earlier attempt to judge with his own eye of the strength of Wellington’s line of defence. He arrived at Sobral in time to witness a bitter skirmish, the most important of all[p. 443] the engagements that took place during the crucial days of the campaign of 1810. Spencer’s outposts, as has been already mentioned, had on the 12th retired only some 200 or 300 yards from Sobral, and had taken up their position on the other side of the ravine that divides that village from the lower slopes of the Monte Agra?a. Across the high-road the main picket, furnished by the 71st regiment, had thrown up a barricade. Junot considered this lodgement, so close to his line, as a thing that ought not to be permitted. Accordingly he brought up his artillery, which had only arrived from the rear on the previous night, to the front of Sobral, and, after cannonading the barricade for a short time, sent against it the compagnies d’élite of the 19th of the Line, supported by other troops of Ménard’s brigade. The first rush of the attack carried the barricade and the line of stone walls on each side of it. But the whole of the 71st was ready to sustain the pickets, and with a fierce rush swept the assailants back across the barricade, down the slope, and into the outer houses of Sobral. From thence, of course, they had to retire, as a whole division was fronting them; but they resumed their old position without being pursued.

Junot refused to renew his attack, and Masséna, who had arrived while the skirmish was in progress, did not direct him to go forward again. It was clear that there was a very strong force in front of the 8th Corps, and that the redoubts visible along the Monte Agra?a on the one hand and the Portello heights on the other were of the most formidable description. Masséna’s senior aide-de-camp and chief confidant, Pelet[510], thus describes the psychological situation: ‘On arriving at Sobral, instead of the “undulating accessible plateaux” that we had been told to expect, we saw steeply scarped mountains and deep ravines, a road-passage only a few paces broad, and on each side walls of rock crowned with everything that could be accomplished in the way of field fortifications garnished with artillery; then at last it was plainly demonstrated to us that we could not attack the Lines of Montechique with the 35,000 or 36,000 men[511] that[p. 444] still remained of the army. For, even if we had forced some point of the Lines, we should not have had enough men left to seize and occupy Lisbon.... It was clear that we must wait for reinforcements[512].’ Another eye-witness, Junot’s aide-de-camp Delagrave, in his Memoir on the Campaign of 1810-11, expresses the same view in his single sentence, explaining that ‘the prince, seeing that the enemy was better prepared and stronger than had been believed, put an end to the combat, and on each side the troops took up once more their original positions[513].’ The loss in this combat—insignificant enough in itself, but decisive in that it revealed to Masséna the uselessness of a further advance—was 67 on the British side, about 120 on that of the French[514].

After putting a stop to the combat of Sobral, Masséna rode away eastward, along the slopes of the upland that faces the Monte Agra?a, and as far as the knoll facing Arruda in the front of the Light Division. Here he pressed so near the British front that a single shot was fired at his escort from the redoubt No. 120 to warn him to trespass no further. He saluted the battery by lifting his hat to it, and went up the hill out of range[515]. Some of his aides-de-camp continued the[p. 445] exploration till they touched Reynier’s vedettes near Villafranca, but the Marshal himself returned to his head quarters at Alemquer to think over the situation. There some sort of a council of war was held that same night: Junot, it is said, urged the Chief to try the effect of a bold dash at the English army arrayed in front of Sobral. But he was talked down by Ney and Reynier, who argued that such an attack would be insane, considering the weakness of their corps and the strength of Wellington’s fortifications. Without doubt they were right: even if Masséna had brought his whole three corps to bear on Sobral, he had 10,000 men less than at Bussaco, and Wellington 10,000 men more, leaving the garrisons of the forts out of the question. The allies had 30,000 bayonets concentrated on the threatened point, and could have brought up Hill, Craufurd, and Hamilton’s and Le Cor’s Portuguese—20,000 men more—from the east end of the Lines, the moment that it was clear that Reynier was no longer in front of them. The position, owing to the forts, was far stronger than Bussaco, and the French cavalry would have been as useless on October 15 as it had been on September 27. The report which Foy drew up for Masséna and presented to the Emperor gives the whole gist of the matter: ‘The Marshal Prince of Essling has come to the conclusion that he would compromise the army of His Majesty if he were to attack in force lines so formidable, defended by 30,000 English and 30,000 Portuguese, aided by 50,000 armed peasants[516].’

An open assault on the Sobral position was now, indeed, the thing that the British most desired. Wellington wrote, with his usual ironical moderation, to his trusted lieutenant, Craufurd, that ‘he thought his arrangements had now made the position tolerably secure[517].’ Among these last arrangements, it may be remarked, was the drawing back of the 71st and the light companies of the 1st Division from the barricades on the near side of the ravine of Sobral. They were moved a few hundred yards to the rear, nearer to Zibreira. This was probably intended to encourage the French to sally out from Sobral up the road, where everything was now in order to receive them.[p. 446] Their advance was hourly expected; D’Urban, Beresford’s Chief of the Staff, wrote gleefully on October 15, ‘Each individual division has now more than sufficient troops to occupy the space allotted to it, and the overplus forms a first reserve for each respectively. If the force thus posted beats the attacking enemy, of which there can be little doubt, our telegraphic communications will bring down Craufurd from Arruda and Hill from Alhandra on to their flank—and the affair will be complete. There is much appearance that the enemy will attack this position with his whole force—Alhandra is far too strong for him. He cannot well retire, and it is hoped that his distress for provisions will compel him to bring matters to a speedy decision[518].’

But both the cautious Commander-in-Chief and the eager head of the Portuguese Staff were mistaken in estimating the position. They had judged wrongly the character of Masséna, and his psychological position of the moment. He would not attack; indeed, after October 14 he seems never to have had the least intention of doing so. The lesson of Bussaco had not been lost, and he was no longer prepared to assail, with a light heart, the Anglo-Portuguese Army posted ready to receive him in a strong position. Probably the energetic statement of Ney and Reynier that they dared not risk their men—that the troops would be demoralized if ordered to advance for a second slaughter—also had its effect on the Marshal. But Masséna was proud and obstinate, and if he could not go forward, he shrank, for the moment, from going back. On October 15 began the one phase of the campaign which the British, from general down to subaltern, had least expected. The French army began to show signs of intending to settle down in front of the Lines, as if for a blockade. After a few more attempts to feel the front of the Lines about Arruda and the valley of Calandriz, which were so feeble that they did not even drive in Craufurd’s outposts, the enemy began to fortify the front of his position with field-works, and sent away the whole of his cavalry to the rear—a sufficient sign that his offensive power was spent.

Masséna’s first dream of masking the Lines by a close blockade was absolutely impracticable, considering the present state of his supplies. The troops were already living on the gleanings of[p. 447] the hastily-evacuated villages of the Lisbon Peninsula, which could not last them for long, and would not even have sufficed for a week’s consumption if Wellington’s decrees had been properly carried out. If he was to feed his army from the thin resources left behind by the Portuguese, Masséna would soon find it necessary to spread it far and wide; since, if he kept it concentrated in front of Wellington, it would soon go to pieces, exposed in bivouacs to the November rains, and forced to draw its nourishment by marauding from afar. It seems from the instructions which he gave to Foy at the end of the second week of his stay in front of Lisbon, that the Marshal actually contemplated clinging to his present advanced position till he should receive reinforcements. He hoped that the 9th Corps would come up to his aid from Old Castile, and that Mortier and the 5th Corps would join him from Andalusia. But these were mere hypotheses: he was not in touch with either Drouet or Mortier. Indeed, he had been cut off from all communication with his colleagues since the day that he crossed the Mondego. The 9th Corps, as a matter of fact, was only at Valladolid, and showed no signs of moving on. Mortier had retired to the mountains in front of Seville, after his successes over the army of La Romana in September. Almeida was in a state of close blockade by Silveira’s detachments from beyond the Douro. Ciudad Rodrigo was in hardly better case, being strictly watched by Julian Sanchez and his mounted guerrilleros, so that no one could get to or from it without a very strong escort. Gardanne’s regiment of dragoons, left behind by Masséna, was worn out in the effort to keep open the road between Rodrigo and Salamanca[519]. From the Army neither Almeida nor Rodrigo received a word of news from the 18th of September to the 15th of November. So effectually was the road closed, that rumours were current of such divers characters as that Masséna had forced the English to embark, and that he had been completely foiled, and was marching back to Spain via Castello Branco. Paris was hardly better informed: the only news that the Emperor got was that dribbled out, four or five weeks later, by the[p. 448] English papers[520]. Hence came ludicrous notices in the Moniteur, of which the worst was one published on November 28, which stated that Coimbra had been occupied by Masséna without a battle, that the army on October 1 had only 200 sick and 500 wounded since it had left Almeida, and that no general or colonel had been killed or even hurt since the invasion began! And this after twelve such officers had fallen at Bussaco. That battle, we may remark, was presented ultimately to French readers as ‘a demonstration executed by the brigades of Simon and Graindorge in order to mask the great flank-march of the Prince of Essling. But they had gone beyond their instructions, and brought on a combat in which 200 men had been killed and 1,200 wounded.’ Fririon, the historian of the campaign, cannot restrain himself from adding, ‘This is how history was written at that time; it was by reports of this lying description that an attempt was made to calm anxious families. Did no one reflect that, by deceiving them in this way, the government made enemies of all those who trusted for a time in the exactitude of the Bulletins, and lost their illusion soon after, when they learnt the melancholy ends of their sons and their brothers[521]?’

The dearth of news from the front was not Masséna’s own fault. He had sent back several aides-de-camp to find their way to Almeida, but all had either been captured by the Ordenan?a or forced to turn back. The best known of these was the young Mascarenhas, one of the Portuguese traitors on the Marshal’s staff. He started from Coimbra on October 3, with the Bussaco dispatch, disguised as a shepherd, but was detected by a band of Ordenan?a, and sent as prisoner to Lisbon. The Regency had him tried by court-martial, and as he was caught without a uniform, he was condemned as a spy as well as a traitor, and executed by the garotte in December[522].

There was a perfect cordon of Portuguese militia and irregulars round Masséna’s rear in October and November. J. Wilson had come down to Espinhal, and had his outposts in Leiria; Trant had returned to Coimbra. They were in touch, by means of the Estrada Nova and the garrison of Abrantes, with the Ordenan?a[p. 449] of Castello Branco, and a Spanish detachment of three battalions under Carlos d’Espa?a, which La Romana had sent to Villa Velha, at the same time that he took his two divisions under La Carrera and Charles O’Donnell within the Lines. On the side of the Atlantic the garrison of Peniche had sent out a force of 300 men to Obidos, under Captain Fenwick, and these joined hands with De Gray’s cavalry at Ramalhal, in front of Torres Vedras. A few French parties which crossed the Monte Junta to raid towards the sea coast were cut off either by Fenwick or by the dragoons. But Masséna never sent any serious detachment in this direction.

For just one month (October 14-November 14) Masséna maintained his position in front of the Lines. The 8th Corps had thrown up some earthworks on, and to the flanks of, the hill of Sobral, thus assuming a defensive instead of an offensive position. The 2nd Corps went back to Carregado, but left strong detachments in Villafranca. By the dispositions of October 16 the 6th Corps remained with its main body at Otta, far to the rear, and an advanced guard at Alemquer. Ney was so placed that he could succour either of the other corps if they were attacked. A brigade of Loison’s division was pushed forward to the hill opposite Arruda[523]: in face of this last Craufurd was adorning the front of his line with a luxury of abattis, entanglements, and pitfalls, which would have made the hillside inaccessible to even the most alert and vigorous person moving alone. Formed troops could not have got past the first two or three traps.

But the most significant part of Masséna’s arrangements was to be found in his rear: Montbrun’s cavalry reserve went back to Santarem; thither also went the reserve artillery on the 17th, and the hospitals on the 20th of October. At the same time each of the corps was directed to send to Santarem all smiths, carpenters, and other artificers that could be found in its ranks. They were told to report to General Eblé, the officer commanding the artillery, who had received from the Marshal a special mission—the construction of boats and pontoons sufficient to bridge the Tagus or the Zezere. For, if he were starved out in Estremadura, Masséna had it in his mind that he might find[p. 450] it convenient either to cross into the Alemtejo, or to force a way across the Zezere into the Castello Branco district, in the hope of opening communication with Spain via Zarza and Alcantara. Montbrun’s cavalry explored northward and eastward, seeking for likely spots at which the Tagus might be bridged, and on the other side reconnoitring the line of the Zezere, to see how it was held. Not a boat could be found on the greater river; at Chamusca a daring party of fifty men swam its broad current, for a dash at some barks which were visible on the other side, but all were found to have had their bottoms carefully knocked out and to be filled with sand. Dejean, the officer who explored as far as Punhete on the Zezere, found all the bridges broken, and the garrison of Abrantes watching the fords, with strong detachments at Punhete and Martinchel.

Eblé found at Santarem that he had to create a pontoon equipage with no materials at all to work from. There was raw iron in the bars and balconies of houses, and raw timber in their floors and rafters, but nothing else. His smiths had to start on the weary task of forging saws and hammers, his carpenters had to turn housebreakers—in the technical sense—to obtain planks and joists. His task was hard, and would clearly take many weeks before it could be properly accomplished.

Meanwhile time was all-important to Masséna, for every day the country between Santarem and the Lines grew barer and yet more bare, as the foragers of the three French corps worked their will upon it. The men were already going into hospital by thousands, and dying there. Junot’s conscript battalions, unsheltered from the rain in their bleak bivouac above Sobral, suffered most—Ney’s and Reynier’s men were (for the most part) housed if not fed. The Army, which had 65,000 men on leaving Almeida, and 55,000 after the loss of Coimbra, had dwindled down to 50,000 effective sabres and bayonets by the month of November[524].

Wellington was already pondering on the possibility of taking[p. 451] the offensive. He had received hundreds of deserters during the last few weeks[525], and knew by their means of the miserable condition of the enemy—of the fact that the cavalry had nearly all been sent to the rear, and of the attempt that was being made to create a bridge-equipage at Santarem[526]. His dispatches of October 27 and November 3 to Lord Liverpool treat at length of the advantages and disadvantages of assailing the French in their present position[527]. He sets forth the strength of his own army—29,000 British troops present with the colours, after deducting sick and men detached, 24,000 Portuguese effective, and 5,000 of La Romana’s Spaniards, making a total of 58,615. He refuses to contemplate the use of the militia, infantry or artillery, in the field; considering their behaviour at Bussaco and elsewhere, ‘I should deceive myself if I could expect, or your Lordship if I should state, that any advantage would be derived from their assistance in an offensive operation against the enemy.’ On the other hand, he estimates Masséna’s fighting force at 55,000 men—a slight miscalculation, for there were only 50,000 effective at this moment, and of these 4,000 cavalry and one brigade of infantry were at Santarem and other distant places, from which they could not have been withdrawn for a battle suddenly forced upon their main corps. Masséna could really have put no more than 44,000 men in line within twenty-four hours of an alarm. Wellington then proceeds to argue that he must make a frontal attack, for if he drew a very large force out of the Lines, in order to assail the enemy’s flank by a wide encircling march, ‘the inevitable consequence of attempting such a man?uvre would be to open some one or other of the great roads to Lisbon, and to our shipping, of which the enemy would take immediate advantage to attain his object.’ Accordingly ‘we must carry their positions by main force, and in the course of the operation I must draw the army out of their cantonments, and expose men and horses to the inclemencies of the weather at this time of the year.’ Moreover, if Masséna were defeated, it would cause Soult to evacuate Granada, raise the[p. 452] siege of Cadiz, and come with 50,000 men to aid the army of Portugal. ‘So if I should succeed in forcing Masséna’s positions, it would become a question whether I should be able to maintain my own, in case the enemy should march another army into this country.’ Blake and the garrison of Cadiz, when freed from Soult’s presence, would certainly do nothing to help the general cause of the Allies. They would neither come to Portugal, nor be able to make a serious advance on Madrid, so as to draw off Soult in that direction. He therefore concludes, that ‘When I observe how small the superiority of numbers is in my favour, and know that the position will be in favour of the enemy, I am of opinion that I act in conformity with the intentions of His Majesty’s Government in waiting for the result of what is going on, and in incurring no extraordinary risk.’ What he calls ‘the safe game’ is to keep on the strict defensive, hoping that the enemy’s distress for provisions, and the operations of the militia in his rear, may cause him either to make a desperate attack on the Lines—in which he will be repulsed with awful loss—or else to make such large detachments, to clear off the corps of Wilson, Trant, and the rest, that it will become easy and safe to attack the remaining army in its present position.

Here, as when we considered the reasons which determined Wellington to evacuate the Coimbra country at the end of September, we are bound to recognize that he adopted an attitude of caution which he would not have assumed in 1812 and 1813, when he had thoroughly proved his army. The temptations to assail Junot’s isolated and advanced position at Sobral were enormous. The 8th Corps had been thrust forward into a re-entering angle of the British lines, in which it could be attacked from the left flank as well as from the front. It was wasting away daily from its privations, and had apparently not more than 10,000 bayonets left—the cavalry of the corps (Sainte-Croix’s old division) had been sent off to Santarem, save one regiment. To sustain Junot the 6th Corps could eventually be used, but only one brigade of it (that of Ferey) was in the first line, and this depleted unit, which had been so thoroughly routed at Bussaco, had its old enemy, Craufurd’s Light Division, in its front. Of the rest of the 6th Corps, one division was at Alemquer, eleven miles behind Sobral, the other at Otta, six[p. 453] miles behind Alemquer[528]. It would have taken the one four or five hours, the other nearly the whole of a short November day, to assemble and to come up. Reynier could not quit Hill’s front without freeing the latter’s two strong divisions for action. Meanwhile Wellington had disposable, in Junot’s immediate front, the divisions of Spencer, Cole, Leith, and Alex. Campbell [Picton had been sent back to Torres Vedras], plus the Portuguese brigades of Pack, Coleman, and A. Campbell, with La Romana’s Spaniards also, if he should choose to employ them—this, too, after leaving Craufurd to look after Ferey, and Hill to keep Reynier in check. It is impossible not to conclude that a sudden frontal and flank attack on Sobral with 30,000 men must have enveloped and crushed the 8th Corps. Though its position was good, its supports were too far off; Ney could not have come up to Junot’s aid, before he was overwhelmed. Masséna was uneasy about this possibility of disaster, and had issued orders on October 29 that if Junot and Ferey were attacked, they were to fall back on Alemquer, while Ney was to bring up his reserves to that same place, and Reynier to abandon his position in front of Alhandra and march on Alemquer also[529]. But the weak point of this arrangement was, that if Junot had been attacked at dawn, both in front and flank, by an overwhelming force, he could never have got back to Alemquer, and must have been cut off and battered to pieces close in the rear of Sobral. The English frontal attack—Spencer, Leith, and Pack—would have started at a distance of less than a mile from his position: Cole and Campbell on the flank had only two miles to cover. Both columns had a down-hill march before them till the line of rising ground about Sobral was reached. How could the 8th Corps have got away? Even an orderly retreat, with a fighting rearguard, would have been impossible.

But if Junot’s 10,000 men had been destroyed behind Sobral, Wellington would then have been in the position to push in between Ney and Reynier, whose columns would just have been beginning to near Alemquer. He might easily have driven them[p. 454] apart, and have forced them to retire on Santarem or some such distant point, in order to complete their junction. Even had they succeeded in joining, Masséna would have had a demoralized army of little over 30,000 men remaining. It is certain that he must have refused to fight, and have started on a disastrous retreat either by Castello Branco, or more likely by Thomar. For the latter direction would have brought him to his base at Almeida—the former would have taken him through an almost uninhabited country, to a part of Spain, the mid-Tagus, where no French army was ready to receive or succour him.

It is impossible, therefore, to doubt that Wellington had a great opportunity before him. Yet it is easy to see why he refused to take it. A mere victory of the second class—the thrusting of Junot out of his positions, not followed by the complete annihilation of the 8th Corps—would have done no more for him than he himself stated in the above-quoted dispatch of November 3. If Junot got away with the main body of his troops, and joined Ney and Reynier, and if their united army took up a defensive position at Santarem or elsewhere, Masséna might still hang on to Portugal, till Soult brought up to his aid the whole Army of Andalusia, or great reinforcements arrived from Castile. Any chance—a fog, heavy rain, the rashness or stupidity of some subordinate—might prevent the complete and instantaneous success of the attack on Sobral. These things being taken into consideration, Wellington resolved to lie still in the Lines, and to let the weapon of starvation play for some time longer on the French. He expected them to retire within a few days from sheer necessity, or else to deliver the much desired attack on his impregnable position.

Masséna had found that the preparation of his bridge equipage at Santarem would be a long business. He knew that his numbers were shrinking every day in the most appalling fashion, not only from deaths and invaliding, but from desertion. Yet he stood still for a fortnight longer than his adversary had expected, and meanwhile made a last desperate appeal for help to the Emperor. He had guessed that all his previous attempts to communicate with Spain had failed because his messengers had been sent without a sufficient escort, and had fallen by the way. Accordingly, he told off a body of more than 500 men to[p. 455] bear his next letter, and gave the command of them to an officer of well-known intelligence and resource—Foy, who had served in all the three Portuguese campaigns, Junot’s of 1808, Soult’s of 1809, and this last of his own. Moreover, it was known that Napoleon had confidence in his ability, though he was an old Republican, and had actually been one of the few who had refused to sign the address which was drawn up to ask the First Consul to declare himself Emperor in 1804. Foy was given a whole battalion of infantry—the 4th of the 47th of the Line—with 120 mounted men. He was told to avoid the main roads, to cross the Zezere, pass north of Castello Branco, and to try to reach Spain by way of Sabugal or Penamacor. This was obviously a difficult task, since the Ordenan?a were known to be abroad, even in this rugged and deserted region. To cover Foy’s start, Montbrun marched, with a brigade of dragoons and a couple of battalions of infantry, to make a demonstration against Abrantes, and draw the attention of its garrison from the upper Zezere. Montbrun forced the passage of the river at Punhete, after a sharp skirmish, and established his vanguard on the further side. He thus attracted to himself all the forces which Lobo, the governor of Abrantes, could spare outside his walls. Meanwhile (October 31) Foy passed the Zezere higher up, at an unguarded ford, and marched by Cardigos and Sobreira Formosa along the Castello Branco road. But he abandoned it before reaching that town, and turned north, crossing the Serra de Moradal by Fund?o and Belmonte. From thence he reached Sabugal, and finally Ciudad Rodrigo on November 8. He had been unmolested save by a body of Ordenan?a, who cut off some of his stragglers. The passage of his column, whose strength was exaggerated by rumour, caused Carlos d’Espa?a to burn the bridge of Villa Velha, under the impression that Foy intended to seize it, and open up communication southward with Soult. He and Lobo reported to Wellington that Foy and Montbrun were the van of a great force, which was about to overrun and occupy the Castello Branco country[530]. But Masséna’s messenger had no other object than to reach Castile with as great rapidity as possible, and without fighting.

[p. 456]

Arrived at Rodrigo, Foy gave over his escort to General Gardanne, with orders to him to collect all the convalescents of the Army of Portugal, and to draw out the garrison of Rodrigo and Almeida, if Drouet was now in condition to take charge of these fortresses. This should give him a force of 6,000 men, with which he was ordered to cut his way to join the main army, to whom he was to bring a convoy of ammunition, which was running desperately low at the front. How badly Gardanne executed his charge we shall presently see.

Foy meanwhile, with a fresh dragoon escort, rode for Salamanca and Valladolid, at which last place he was disgusted to find Drouet and the bulk of the 9th Corps, whom he had expected to meet at Rodrigo[531]. He met the general, and passed on to him Masséna’s request that he would collect the whole of his 16,000 men, and march on Almeida, and from thence down the Mondego to Coimbra, after which he was to open up communication with the main army by Leiria or Thomar. Drouet, assuming some of the airs of a commander-in-chief, did not show the eagerness to carry out these directions which Foy had hoped to find.

From Valladolid Foy rode straight through by post, braving guerrilla bands and swollen rivers, through Burgos and Bayonne to Paris, which he reached on the night of November 21. On the next day he delivered his dispatches to the Emperor, and was put through two hours of sharp cross-questioning by his master. The notes of this conversation, taken down the same afternoon by the general, are one of the most interesting documents for the study of Napoleon’s psychology. Striding up and down his study, pouring out strings of queries, rapid judgements, rebukes and laudations, even anecdotes and screeds of political philosophy, the Emperor presented a wonderful picture of restless and far-reaching intellectual activity. Foy put in his excuses and explanations in the gaps of the Emperor’s tirades. ‘Why the devil did Masséna thrust himself into that muddle[532] at Bussaco? Even in a plain country columns do not break through lines, unless they are supported by a superior artillery fire.’ ‘And the disgrace at Coimbra, where he has let his[p. 457] hospitals be taken by 1,500 ragged rascals! To lose your hospitals is as disgraceful as to lose your flags! In a regularly organized country—England, for example—Masséna would have gone to the scaffold for that job. The English are full of courage and honour: they defend themselves well. Masséna and Ney did not know them, but Reynier, whom they had beaten twice or thrice [Alexandria and Maida], ought to know them! Wellington has behaved like a clever man: his total desolation of the kingdom of Portugal is the result of systematic measures splendidly concerted. I could not do that myself, for all my power. Why did not Masséna stop at Coimbra, after Bussaco?’ ‘Because,’ faltered Foy, ‘supposing he had done so, Your Majesty would have reproached him by saying “If you had only pushed straight on Lisbon the English would have embarked.”’ ‘Very possible, indeed,’ replied the Emperor, breaking into a broad smile. ‘Well, I wanted to drive them into the sea: I have failed. All right; then I will have a regular campaign in Portugal, and use them up. I can wear them down in the nature of things, because England cannot compete in mere numbers with me.’ Then followed an excursus into the characters of French generals—Junot, Ney, Soult especially. Then a curious confession that he had made a miscalculation in taking up the Spanish war: ‘I thought the system easier to change than it has proved in that country, with its corrupt minister, its feeble king, and its shameless, dissolute queen. But for all that, I don’t repent of what I did; I had to smash up that nation: sooner or later they would have done me a bad turn.’

Then comes the Emperor’s conclusion upon the present state of affairs. ‘Masséna must take Abrantes—Elvas would be of no good to us. The only way to get Wellington to make a forward move will be to force him to try to raise the siege of Abrantes. As long as Masséna stays in position opposite Lisbon, nothing is lost; he is still a terror to the English, and keeps the offensive. If he retreats, I fear great disaster for him. But why did he not take up some regular plan of operations? The very day after he reconnoitred the Lisbon lines, it was clear that he would never attack them. I will send immediate orders for the 5th Corps [Mortier] to invade the Alemtejo.[p. 458] Will they be obeyed? At that distance only those who choose carry out my directions. [A hint at Soult’s selfish policy.] I tremble lest Masséna may call Drouet down to him, and then get his communications cut again. By communications I mean sure points, at two or three marches distance, properly garrisoned and provisioned, where convoys can rest and be safe. An army without open communications loses heart and gets demoralized.... All the hope of the English is in that army of Wellington’s! If we could destroy it, it would be a terrible blow to them.’

The Emperor, pleased with Foy’s intelligent explanations of the situation, created him a general of division, and told him to rest for a month, and then return to Portugal. He sent for him to administer a second catechism on the 24th, and then condescended to explain his view of the situation, and his orders for the future. He quite approved of Masséna’s resolve to hold out in front of the Lines, and had already given Drouet directions to assemble his corps at Almeida, and open up communications with the Army of Portugal—in fact, the order to do so had been sent off as early as November 3, and its bearer must have crossed Foy somewhere on the road[533]. Soult had also been ordered, two days before Masséna’s appeal came to hand, to create a diversion in the direction of Spanish Estremadura[534]. He was now sent a sharp reproof for having done nothing, and more especially for having allowed La Romana to slip away with two divisions to Lisbon unmolested[535]. But it seems clear that no orders to concentrate his whole army and invade the Alemtejo were sent him, and these were the only measures that could have helped Masséna. Napoleon’s obiter dictum that it would be no use to besiege and capture Elvas shows a misapprehension of the situation. A mere demonstration in Spanish Estremadura might call back La Romana, but would not help the Army of Portugal to any appreciable extent. It was not La Romana’s 8,000 men who formed the strength[p. 459] of the defence of Lisbon. Wellington could have spared them without harm, and, indeed, sent them away long before Masséna quitted Portugal.

It may be added that (as facts were to show ere long) the mere sending up of Drouet to the front was not nearly sufficient to put Masséna in a position to incommode Wellington, more especially when the 9th Corps was told to drop detachments at short intervals at every stage after Almeida. By following these orders, indeed, Drouet brought to the main army a mere 6,000 men on December 26, having left the rest of his corps beyond the Mondego. His arrival was of absolutely no use to the Prince of Essling. The one thing which could have saved Masséna was the arrival, not of a small field force such as Drouet or Mortier commanded, but of a large army, on the Lower Tagus, and on its southern side. Such an army, as the disposition of the French troops in Spain then stood, could only have been produced if Soult had consented to abandon Granada, raise the siege of Cadiz, and march with the greater part of the Army of Andalusia into the Alemtejo, masking Badajoz and Elvas, and leaving a division or two in Seville to keep Blake and the Spanish troops from Cadiz in check. But the Duke of Dalmatia could never be induced to abandon two-thirds of his Andalusian viceroyalty, in order to execute a movement whose results, if successful, would mainly redound to the glory of Masséna. Nothing short of a definite and peremptory order from Paris would have made him call in Victor and Sebastiani, and evacuate Eastern and Southern Andalusia. Such an order the Emperor did not send. His dispatch of Dec. 4 only ordered that a corps of 10,000 men should advance to the Tagus in the direction of Villa Velha and Montalv?o, to communicate with Masséna[536]. Soult undertook instead a blow at Badajoz, in January, with a force of 20,000 men, while leaving Cadiz still blockaded and Granada still held. Napoleon, therefore, must take the blame of the final failure of the invasion of Portugal. As has been shown above, from his own words, he was conscious that he was too far from the scene of operation, and that mere ordinary directions to his lieutenants might not be carried out with zeal. ‘Je donne[p. 460] l’ordre. L’exécutera-t-on? De si loin obéit qui veut[537].’ But if this were so, it was surely necessary either that he should go to Spain in person, or else—the more obvious alternative—that he should appoint a real Commander-in-Chief in the Peninsula, who should have authority to order all the other marshals and generals to obey his directions, without malingering or appeals to Paris. Napoleon had deliberately created a divided authority beyond the Pyrenees when he set up his military governments, and instructed Suchet, Kellermann, and the other governors to report directly to himself, and to pay no attention to commands emanating from Madrid[538]. King Joseph, as a central source of orders, had been reduced to a nullity by this ill-conceived decree. Even over the troops not included in the new viceroyalties he had no practical authority. Not he and his chief of the staff, but Masséna, ought to have been entrusted with a full and autocratic power of command over all the armies of Spain, if a true unity of purpose was to be achieved.

This necessary arrangement the Emperor utterly refused to carry out: he sent rebukes to Drouet for hesitating to obey the orders of the Prince of Essling, and he jested at the absurd conduct of Ney and Junot in conducting themselves like independent generals[539]. But these officers were in command of troops definitely allotted to the Army of Portugal. Over the other generals of Spain he refused to allow Masséna any control, and he continued to send them his own ever-tardy instructions, which had often ceased to be appropriate long before the dispatch had reached its destination. If we seek the reasons of this unwise persistence in his old methods, we find that they were two. The first was his secret, but only half-disguised, intention to annex all the Spanish provinces north of the Ebro to France, an insane resolve which led him to keep Suchet and Macdonald in Aragon and Catalonia, as well as the governors of Navarre and Biscay, out of the control of any central authority that he might set up in Spain. The second was his jealousy of entrusting the vast army south of the Ebro,[p. 461] far more than 250,000 men at the moment, to any single commander. He remembered Soult’s absurd strivings after royalty in Portugal; he knew that Masséna, though the best of soldiers, was false, selfish, and ambitious; and he refused to hand over to either of them a full control over the whole of the forces in the Peninsula. It was even better, in his estimation, to leave King Joseph a shadow of power, than to take the risk of giving overmuch authority to one of the two able, but not wholly trustworthy, marshals to whom he must otherwise have entrusted it.

The war in Portugal, therefore, went on as a mere section of the great contest in the Peninsula; the other and less important episodes were not made wholly subordinate to it. And if this system continued Wellington was free from any real danger. He knew it himself; he studied diligently both the political position and the details of the emplacement of the imperial armies in the Peninsula. He was fortunate enough to secure whole budgets of French dispatches captured by the Ordenan?a[540], and all that he read confirmed him in his conclusion. ‘I calculate,’ he writes on October 27, ‘that a reinforcement of 15,000 men would not now give the enemy so good an army as they had at Bussaco. He lost 2,000 killed or taken there: Trant took 5,000 at Coimbra: above 1,000 prisoners have gone through this army: many have been killed by the peasantry. They cannot have less than 4,000 sick[541], after the march they have made, and the weather to which they are exposed. The deserters tell us that almost every one is sick. From this statement you may judge of the diminution of their numbers; and you will see that I have not much reason to apprehend anything from [Drouet’s] “quinze beaux bataillons which fought at Essling”[542], and which cannot be here before the middle of November. I do not think I have much to apprehend even if Mortier is added to them. However, we shall see[p. 462] how that will be.... All the accounts which I receive of the distresses of the enemy for want of provisions would tend to a belief that their army cannot remain long in the position in which it is placed, and it is astonishing that they have been able to remain here so long as this[543].’ That they have succeeded in staying even a fortnight in front of the Lines is, he adds, entirely the fault of the Portuguese government, for not carrying out thoroughly the work of devastation. But, for the reasons stated on an earlier page, Wellington was resolved not to take the offensive, even against a foe whose ranks were beginning to grow thin. Famine should do the work, and no lives should be wasted.

There remained only one danger: it was just possible that Soult, even though Masséna had not yet suffered any disaster great enough to make the evacuation of Eastern Andalusia imperative, might send Mortier and some additional divisions of his other corps to Spanish Estremadura, and make a dash at the Lower Tagus. Masséna’s boat-building at Santarem, of which every deserter spoke, might be intended to give him the materials for a bridge by which he might communicate across the Lower Tagus with Soult. Wellington accordingly resolved to keep a strict watch beyond the Tagus, and to have a flying force ready, which could hinder the construction of a bridge or a bridge head. With this object on November 2 he sent over the Tagus General Fane, with his 1,500 Portuguese horse, a battalion of Ca?adores, and a few guns. All the North Alemtejo Ordenan?a were called out to watch the river banks, and to lend what small assistance they could to the cavalry. Fane discovered the French dockyard at Santarem, and tried to fire it with rockets on November 13. He failed, but the mere appearance of his little force on the further bank of the Tagus had some good effect, since it warned Masséna that an attempt to pass the broad river would not be unopposed, and therefore made him more chary of attempting it. Fane, being in touch with Abrantes on his right hand and with Lisbon on his left, now formed, as it were, a section of the blockading screen which was thrown round the whole French army.

Wellington had miscalculated the time which the French could[p. 463] afford to spend in front of the Lines, without suffering actual starvation, by about a fortnight. On November 10 Masséna gave orders for the evacuation of his whole position, and a general retreat on Santarem, because it had become absolutely impossible to stay any longer on the ground facing Zibreira and Alhandra, unless the whole army was to perish. The report from the 8th Corps may suffice to give in a few words the condition of affairs, ‘General Clausel wishes to observe that during the daytime he cannot count on any other troops save those actually guarding the outpost line. The majority of the men are absent on raids to the rear, to seek for maize and cattle. The last detachment which came back to camp had been nine days away. Generals and soldiers agree in stating that for some time it has only been possible to collect a little corn with extreme difficulty. For eight days the troops have been living on polenta (boiled maize flour) alone, and of this they have received only half a ration. During the last four days the 1st Division has received only one ration of meat, which amounted to six ounces of goat’s-flesh. If the corps had to make a retreat, it would have to abandon its sick and wounded for want of carts, which the intendant-generals will not furnish[544].’ The condition of the 2nd and 6th Corps was only so far better that they had to send their foragers a less distance, when seeking for the scanty store which could still be gleaned from the hidden granaries of the Portuguese.

But Masséna had no intention of retiring on Spain when he began to issue orders for a general movement to the rear. Profoundly sensible of the difficulties of a November retreat through the mountains, trusting that he might block the British army by maintaining a bold attitude in its front, and still hoping that large reinforcements might reach him ere long from Drouet and Mortier, he had resolved only to evacuate the Lisbon peninsula, and to retire no further than to the flat and fertile lands between Santarem and the Zezere. In the Plain of Goleg?o, as it is sometimes called, he hoped to feed his army for many weeks more, for the region was still comparatively full of resources, since it had only been exploited as yet by the garrison[p. 464] of Santarem and the flying columns which had marched to the Zezere. It was now his cherished hope that Wellington might follow him into the plain-land, abandoning his defensive system, and consenting to give battle in the open. The English might even be induced to attack the French army when it should have taken up a new and a strong position. In somewhat rash confidence the Marshal professed himself certain of the result, even with his depleted army of under 50,000 men, if Wellington would consent to fight. At the worst, if starved out again or beaten in the field, he would retreat on Spain by Castello Branco, for which purpose he had sent up the greater part of his boat-train from Santarem to build a bridge over the Zezere. He had also pushed part of Loison’s brigade of infantry across that river at Punhete, and was holding with it a point suitable for a tête-du-pont. A regiment of dragoons was attached to this force: it skirmished not unfrequently with parties sent out to reconnoitre from Abrantes, but with no serious result. For General Lobo, the governor, had no intention of coming out with a large detachment, in order to push the French advanced guard back over the river. He had been ordered to keep to the defensive, and only sent out occasional reconnaissances to see whether the enemy were still in position.

Loison’s troops were now no longer the only large force which had quitted the army in front of the Lines. Not only was Montbrun, with the main body of the cavalry, watching the roads from the north, but six battalions of infantry had been sent up from the 6th Corps on November 8 to occupy Torres Novas and Thomar. If Wellington had attacked the enemy behind Sobral on any day after that date, he would have found Ney short of fourteen battalions[545] out of the thirty-four which formed his corps. There would have been only 10,000 infantry ready to support Junot in the direction of Alemquer. But this fact, of course, was unknown to the English general, who had already made up his mind not to take the offensive. If it had come to his knowledge, he might have attacked, even at the last[p. 465] moment, with an enormous probability of inflicting on the enemy not the mere repulse that he disliked to contemplate—on account of its ulterior effects—but a crushing defeat, which might have hurled them out of Portugal.

On November 10 Masséna ordered the hospitals of the 6th and 8th Corps at Alemquer, and of the 2nd Corps at Azambuja, to be sent off to Santarem. At the same time the intendants of the commissariat were ordered to direct to the rear the meagre store of provisions which was in their possession, loaded on the much depleted transport train which still survived. On the 13th the reserve parks and the artillery train of each corps were ordered to follow. On the 14th, at eight o’clock in the evening, the infantry, many of whom lay in contact with the British lines, acted on their marching directions. Ney’s main body, which was out of sight of Wellington, was to move first; then Junot and Ferey’s brigade, whose movement was most perilous—for if their departure were discovered while they were on the hither side of the defile of Alemquer, they ran a great risk of being enveloped and destroyed. Reynier was to maintain his position at Villafranca and Carregado, until it was reported to him that Junot and his corps had passed Alemquer and reached Moinho de Cubo. For if the 2nd Corps had gone off at an early hour, and its departure had been discovered, Hill might have marched from Alhandra on Alemquer quickly enough to intercept Junot at that point; and if Junot were being pursued at the moment by the troops from his immediate front, the whole 8th Corps might have been cut off.

On the night of the 14th, when the movement was commencing, Masséna was favoured with the greatest piece of luck which had come to him since the explosion of Almeida. A fog began to rise in the small hours, and had become dense by the early morning. It caused some difficulty to the retiring troops, and dragoons had to be placed at every cross road to point out the right direction to the infantry columns[546]. But it had the all-important result of permitting the British outposts to see nothing at dawn. The limit visible to them was less than 100 yards. It was only at ten o’clock in the morning of the 15th that the mists were suddenly rolled up by an east wind, and that the[p. 466] nearer outposts could see that the French sentinels in front of them had disappeared. The first alarm was given by Campbell’s 6th Division[547]. The news spread along the whole line from west to east, and reached the Commander-in-Chief, who ascended the hill in front of Sobral a few minutes later[548]. The ingenuity of the enemy in concealing his departure had been great. Ferey’s brigade, in front of Arruda, had erected a well-designed line of dummy sentinels before the Light Division, which were not discovered to be men of straw, topped with old shakos and bound to poles, till the fog rolled off on the 15th[549].

Meanwhile the French had accomplished the first stage of their retreat absolutely unmolested. Ney had retreated as far as Alcoentre; Junot had passed the defile of Alemquer, and passed through Moinho de Cubo to Aveira de Cima. Reynier, who had waited till Junot was in safety before he withdrew at eight in the morning, reached Cartaxo before the day ended. The first and most difficult stage of the retreat had been finished without a shot being fired. What would have happened had the night of the 14th been clear and starry, and the morning sun had shone out on the 15th, so that Junot would have been detected as he was passing Alemquer, and Reynier would have been visible still in line of battle behind Villafranca, the French diarists of the campaign prefer not to contemplate. Yet they mostly continued to speak of Wellington as a mediocre general, who had all the luck on his side.

On the night of the 15th the British Commander-in-Chief had to draw his deductions from the facts before him. Three things were possible: Masséna might have been so thoroughly starved out and broken in spirit, that he might be intending to retire on Spain, either via Thomar and the Mondego, or by his new bridge on the Zezere and the route of Castello Branco. Or he might be proposing to cross the Tagus by means of the boats and pontoons still remaining at Santarem, to seek unwasted fields in the Alemtejo and a junction with Mortier. Or, again, he might merely be abandoning a position that was no longer tenable, in order to take up a new one—perhaps at Santarem, perhaps at[p. 467] Thomar, but very possibly at and about Abrantes, whose siege he might be contemplating[550].

On the whole Wellington thought it probable that the last-named plan was the one which Masséna intended to adopt. A retreat on Spain would not only be difficult and dangerous, but inconsistent with the Marshal’s obstinate and courageous temper. It was much more likely that he would endeavour to hold out in Portugal, and meanwhile to cover his partial discomfiture by a bold stroke, such as the siege of Abrantes, which would still give an offensive air to his movements, and would also throw on the British army the responsibility of relieving the fortress. Such a course, it will be remembered, was what Napoleon recommended to Foy[551]. ‘There is still a chance that the enemy may take up and try to keep a position at Santarem,’ wrote Wellington to Fane on the night of the 15th, ‘endeavouring to keep his rear open, and to get a communication with Ciudad Rodrigo across the Zezere.’ But he was inclined to think that Abrantes was Masséna’s goal. He therefore directed Fane to transfer his cavalry to the point opposite Abrantes on the south bank of the Tagus, and requested Carlos d’Espa?a to enter the place and strengthen the garrison. He intended to pass over Hill’s two divisions to strengthen Fane, and for that purpose directed Admiral Berkeley to prepare all the boats of the fleet to ferry Hill across to Salvaterra, on the south bank of the Tagus, from whence his force could join Fane, and either reinforce Abrantes, by means of its bridge of boats, or join in the pursuit of Masséna if he were about (an unlikely chance) to retire on Spain by way of his bridge over the Zezere[552] and Castello Branco.

Meanwhile all was still uncertain, and it was Wellington’s first task to find out what roads the enemy had taken in his retreat. He did not on the 15th order his whole army to leave the Lines in headlong pursuit. Only Spencer, Craufurd, and Hill were[p. 468] directed to march that afternoon. The former, with a cavalry regiment out in his front, occupied Sobral, and pushed its vanguard forward to Alemquer by the high road. The second left Arruda, climbed the low hills in front of him, where Ferey had been encamped for the last month, and felt his way to Alemquer, by the bad road which his immediate adversary had taken eighteen hours before. Hill followed the great chaussée along the Tagus bank, by Villafranca and Castanheira, and reached Carregado before dark. He was warned to be in readiness to cross the river, by means of Admiral Berkeley’s boats, at the earliest possible moment, in case the French should have built a bridge at Santarem to enable them to cross into the Alemtejo.[553]

The advancing troops found the French camps, and the villages where the more fortunate battalions had been quartered under cover, in the most dreadful condition. ‘The Alemquer road was covered with horses, mules, and asses which had perished from want of forage. We passed many French soldiers lying dead by the road-side, whose appearance indicated that disease and want of food had carried them off. Every house in every town or village was thoroughly ransacked[554].’ ‘Alemquer had been entirely sacked, the windows and doors torn down and burnt, as well as most of the furniture; china, pier-glasses, and chandeliers all dashed to pieces with the objectless fury of savages. They had left many miserable fellows behind, who were too ill to march: these were, of course, put to death by the Portuguese whenever we happened to miss finding them out. We found several peasants whom the French had murdered and left upon the road, and also several French killed by the Portuguese. It was a dreadful sight to see so many fine towns and villages sacked, and without a creature in them.’[555]

On the 15th none of the enemy had been seen save the dead and the abandoned sick. The traces of their retreat, however, showed that all had gone off by the roads towards Santarem. On the 16th Wellington moved more troops out of the Lines, to support Hill, Craufurd, and Spencer, in the event of the enemy[p. 469] showing fight. Slade’s horse followed Spencer, Pack’s Portuguese followed Craufurd; Picton, Leith, Cole, and Campbell were left in the Lines, which Wellington still disliked to leave wholly unguarded while he was not yet certain of the ultimate intentions of the French. The advanced guard picked up about 300 prisoners this day—partly marauders, partly debilitated men who could not keep up with their regiments during a second stage of hard marching. Next day (November 17) it was evident that the enemy was being overtaken: Anson’s cavalry brigade, which had reached the front on the preceding night, cut up a number of small parties of the French rearguard—the 16th Light Dragoons alone captured two officers and 78 men, not stragglers, but belated pickets and convoy guards. One of their exploits was long remembered—Sergeant Baxter, with five men only, came on an infantry outpost of 50 men, who had stacked their arms and were cooking. Bursting in upon them, he captured an officer and 41 men, though some of the Frenchmen had got to their muskets and wounded one of his troopers.[556]

On the afternoon of the 17th the enemy’s rearguard was at last discovered, drawn up on a heath outside the village of Cartaxo. It consisted of one of Reynier’s divisions, which Craufurd was preparing to attack, when the Commander-in-Chief came up, and refused him leave to begin the combat, because neither Hill nor Spencer was within supporting distance of him. Opinions differed as to whether an attack would have led to a repulse by superior numbers, or to the capture of the French division, which had a bridge and a long causeway—a most dangerous defile—in its rear[557]. Probably Craufurd was not in quite sufficient strength to be certain of success: he had but six strong battalions[558], a battery, and the 16th Light Dragoons in[p. 470] his company. The enemy had the eleven weak battalions of Merle’s division, and two regiments of cavalry: probably 1,000 bayonets and 300 sabres in all more than Craufurd could command. But an attack made with vigour, when half the French had begun to retire across the defile, might have had considerable results. Merle’s division was, however, allowed to retire unmolested in the evening, while the Light Division took up quarters for the night at Cartaxo. Reynier drew back the whole of his corps next morning to the environs of Santarem, which he had been directed to defend. Meanwhile the 8th Corps had reached Pernes with one division, and Alcanhede with the other and its cavalry: these were the points at which Junot had been ordered to stay his retreat. The bulk of the 6th Corps was at Thomar, but Loison’s division had been kept in the neighbourhood of the Zezere[559], and part of Marchand’s infantry and Ney’s corps-cavalry were at Caba?os. The retreat was thus ended, for Masséna was in possession of the new ground on which he intended to maintain himself for the winter, and he was prepared to accept a defensive battle if Wellington should push him any further. His left flank near the Tagus (Reynier’s corps) was advanced: his right flank (Junot’s corps) much ‘refused.’ Ney was forming the central reserve.

Unfortunately for himself the British Commander-in-Chief received, on the night of the 17th, confusing intelligence, which led him to the false conclusion that the enemy was still retiring, and was aiming either for Abrantes or for the borders of Spain. This news was sent by Fane, who from the other bank of the Tagus had observed French columns and convoys marching eastward from Santarem towards the Zezere[560], and wrongly inferred that the main army was making for this direction, and that only a rearguard had been left in Santarem. He was also influenced by the fact, reported from Abrantes, that Masséna had cast a second bridge over the Zezere near[p. 471] Punhete, as if to give him a quicker chance of passing that river. In consequence of this news, Wellington directed Hill to cross the Tagus at Vallada with his own division, Hamilton’s Portuguese, and the 13th Light Dragoons, in order to strengthen Abrantes if it were assailed, or to fall on the flank of the French, if they were merely passing that fortress on their retreat to Spain. Thus he deprived himself of 14,000 men on the right bank of the Tagus, where alone troops were really needed. To make up for Hill’s absence, Leith’s and Cole’s divisions were called out of the Lines, where they had rested till this moment (18th November)[561]. But they were two marches off, and Wellington had for the moment in his front line only Craufurd, Spencer, Pack’s Portuguese, and Slade’s and Anson’s cavalry, a force of some 16,000 men. Reynier was in his immediate front at Santarem, with 13,000 men of all arms. Junot’s corps at Alcanhede and Pernes was twelve miles away, and about 11,000 strong: the greater part of his men could have been brought up in half a day’s march. Ney was too distant to come up in less than 24 hours, and then only with half his corps, as Loison and one of Marchand’s brigades were far away. But if Wellington had attacked Santarem on the 19th the Duke of Elchingen would have appeared next morning.

Craufurd was as strongly convinced as his chief that there was nothing in front of him but a rearguard on the night of the 18th, and he even doubted whether the last of the French would not withdraw at midnight. It was this that induced him to make the curious personal exploration mentioned by Napier (iii. 63)[562], when, followed by a single sergeant only, he pushed[p. 472] along the causeway in the small hours of the morning, ran into the French picket, and escaped as if by miracle the volley that was fired at him. The picket reported to Reynier that they had been seriously attacked, had killed three of their assailants, and had heard the groans of wounded dragged away by the survivors. Craufurd and his sergeant retired, thoroughly convinced that the causeway had not been evacuated.

It was undoubtedly fortunate for the British Commander-in-Chief that his habitual caution prevented him from making a serious attack on the force at Santarem, under the impression that it was a mere rearguard, left behind to detain him while the enemy’s main body was pushing for Abrantes. Reynier’s position was very formidable. The town of Santarem, surrounded by an old mediaeval wall, stands on a lofty height above the Tagus, with a narrow suburb—where the French dockyard had been established—along the lower edge of the hill. But this was only the third and last line of the defensive position. In front of it lay low alluvial ground, inundated by the rain which had been falling during the last fortnight, and barely passable save by the chaussée from Lisbon. The plain was cut in two by the Rio Mayor, a deep muddy stream at this time of the year, and to reach Santarem a narrow bridge over this obstacle had to be passed. Just where the chaussée leaves the marsh, to climb towards the town, was a long knoll, completely commanding the road: on this Reynier had placed a battery with infantry supports. This force must be driven in by the British, and the only practicable way to reach it was by forcing a passage along the causeway, for the marsh between the road and the Tagus turned out, when explored, to be practically inaccessible to formed troops, though individuals might wade through it in a few places. Behind the advanced French knoll were the foot-hills of the lofty ridge on which Santarem lies. The enemy were visible upon it, working hard at the construction of a line of abattis from the olive-trees which cover its slopes. Behind this, again, was the town itself, hastily prepared for defence.

On the morning of November 19th the British advanced guard was on the edge of the swampy plain; Craufurd’s Light Division occupied the near end of the long bridge over the Rio[p. 473] Mayor, and skirmished with the French outposts, who refused to retire from the further side. Spencer came up more to the left, and further inland, Pack’s Portuguese reached the upper course of the Rio Mayor. Neither Leith nor Cole had yet arrived at the front, so that the force available for an attack was no more than 16,000 men. Nevertheless, Wellington, still hoping that he had only a rearguard in front of him, made dispositions for a demonstration against the enemy’s front, which was to be turned into a real attack if he showed want of strength. Craufurd was directed to advance across the swamp near the Tagus, if he found it practicable. Pack was to cross the upper Rio Mayor, and turn the hostile right. Spencer was formed at the entrance of the bridge and causeway, and ordered to charge up the chaussée at the French centre, and the battery commanding the road, so soon as he should see that the flanking divisions were making good progress. Fortunately for Wellington the attack was never delivered: more rain during the night had made the marsh so waterlogged that Craufurd, who had crossed the Rio Mayor by a narrow wooden bridge near Valle, came to a stand in the slush, though a few of his skirmishers pushed far enough forward to engage the enemy’s pickets on the other side. Pack’s Portuguese on the left flank got across the river with much difficulty, but their guns were absolutely stuck in the mud far to the rear, and the brigadier sent back word to Wellington that he should advance no further without special orders. The 1st Division had not yet begun to move. Thereupon the Commander-in-Chief called back both Craufurd and Pack, and gave up his plan. It is clear that he had nourished some intention of attacking in earnest, for he wrote to Hill that afternoon: ‘I did not attack Santarem this morning, as the artillery of the left wing (Pack) had lost its way, and I am rather glad that I did not attack, as the enemy have there undoubtedly a very strong post, and we must endeavour to turn it. And if they [the main body] have not retired across the Zezere or towards the Alva, they must be too strong for us here.’

It is obvious that both Wellington’s and Masséna’s strategy on the 18th and 19th November is exposed to criticism. Why had the British General only 16,000 men to the front on these[p. 474] days, when he was risking a general action with the French? One of two courses must have been adopted by the enemy: either he must be marching hard for the Zezere, and intending to retire into Spain, or he must be merely changing his ground, and proposing to fight at Santarem, or in front of Abrantes, or elsewhere. In either case it was strange tactics for Wellington to take the field with 16,000 men (deducting Hill on the other side of the Tagus), while he left Leith and Cole two or three marches behind, and still kept the divisions of Picton, Campbell, and Le Cor, and the unattached Portuguese brigade of Coleman and Alex. Campbell—20,000 men—unmoved within the Lines. For if the enemy was flying, there was no need to leave such a force of regulars to guard positions which the French could not be intending to attack. While if the other hypothesis was correct, and Masséna, with an army which Wellington still reckoned at 50,000 men, was in a fighting mood, and ready to give battle if he saw an advantageous opportunity, it was still more inexcusable to leave behind 20,000 men, who would be wanted for the decisive struggle.

On the other hand, the French Marshal was taking a terrible risk also. Supposing Wellington had been leading his whole force—deducting Hill—for a resolute attack on the Santarem positions, which was the most probable course for him to adopt, he might have had not only the 16,000 men that he had actually brought forward, but Leith and Cole with 11,000 more, and Picton and the other 20,000 men left in the Lines, a force, if the cavalry be thrown in, of full 50,000 sabres and bayonets. If Wellington had left Craufurd and Pack to block the marshy southern exit from Santarem, which was as difficult for Reynier as for his adversaries, he might have thrown 40,000 men into the empty space of twelve miles between Reynier and Junot, have driven away the latter’s 11,000 men, and surrounded Reynier’s 13,000 in Santarem. Ney could not have got up in time to prevent this. The 2nd Corps would either have had to surrender, for it had hardly any food, or to cut its way out with disastrous losses[563].

[p. 475]

Reynier saw this perfectly, and was in an agony of mind on the 18th and 19th. He wrote urgent appeals to Masséna, for permission to abandon Santarem on the former day, pointing out that if his front was practically inaccessible, because of the swamps, his right might be turned by the upper Rio Mayor, where he had only a single regiment in observation, to face what might be an overwhelming strength of British troops, who might be preparing to cut in between him and Junot. He sent all his train, sick, and wounded to Goleg?o[564], and besought leave to follow them. When he received a peremptory reply, to the effect that he was to hold Santarem to the last, he came to the conclusion that he was to be sacrificed in order to allow the other two corps to escape unmolested. When Pack advanced on the 19th he sent the report that he was turned by 10,000 British troops—Pack had but 3,000 Portuguese—and that Clausel with Junot’s nearest division was too far off to succour him. He prepared to suffer a disaster, and to die fighting[565]. He ordered his troops to surround Santarem, in rear as well as in front, with a double line of abattis, and continued to strengthen and repair its old walls.

Nothing, therefore, could exceed Reynier’s relief when Pack and Craufurd halted, and Spencer did not move at all, after the firing had begun upon the 19th. On the next morning the British army was still stationary, save that a cavalry reconnaissance, pushed northward from Pack’s position on the upper Rio Mayor, discovered Junot’s outposts in the direction of Alcanhede and Pernes, and reported to Wellington that the enemy was in strength, with all arms, in this direction. Leith[p. 476]’s division came up this morning, raising the British force to 21,000 men, but this, as the Commander-in-Chief now saw, was not sufficient to enable him to deal with two corps d’armée, of which one was in an inaccessible position and now stockaded up to the eyes. He halted, and sent, very tardily, orders for Cole to join in haste, and for Campbell’s division to come up from the Lines. But even thus he was too weak to strike. Hill was now at Almeirim, half way to Abrantes on the other side of the Tagus. Fane had actually entered Abrantes, and sent news that the enemy was making no forward movement from the Zezere. Thus at last Wellington discovered that he must have practically the whole French army in his front, while his own forces were in a state of terrible dispersion.

On the 21st he wrote a dispatch to Lord Liverpool which shows that he had given up all intention of pushing Masséna further. ‘Although the enemy have moved large bodies of troops eastward from Santarem, I have not heard that any large body has crossed the Zezere.... Their army being collected between Santarem and the Zezere, they are in a situation to be able to maintain themselves in their strong position till the reinforcements, which I know are on the frontier, can join them. For this reason, and because I am unwilling to expose to the inclemencies of the weather a larger body of troops than is absolutely necessary to press upon the enemy’s rear, and to support my advanced guard, I have kept in reserve a considerable proportion of the allied army—some of them still in their cantonments in the Lines, our fortified position. I have ordered General Hill to halt the head of his corps at Chamusca [on the other side of the Tagus, fifteen miles south of Abrantes] till the enemy’s movements have been decided.... The rain, which has been very heavy since the 15th, has so completely filled the rivulets and destroyed the roads, that I have hitherto found it impossible to dislodge the enemy from his position at Santarem, by movements through the hills on his right flank. Possibly the bad state of the roads has also been the cause of his remaining at Santarem so long.... The enemy’s army may be reinforced, and they may again induce me to think it expedient, in the existing state of affairs in the Peninsula, to resume my positions [the Lines]. But I do not believe that they have it[p. 477] in their power to bring such a force against us as to render the contest a matter of doubt[566].’

In a supplementary dispatch, dated the same day, Wellington adds: ‘At first I thought the enemy were off, and I am not quite certain yet that they are not going.... I am convinced that there is no man in his senses, who has ever passed a winter in Portugal, who would not recommend them to go now, rather than to endeavour to maintain themselves upon the Zezere during the winter, or than attack our position, whatever may be the strength of their reinforcements.’

There were, indeed, men in the French camp who advised Masséna to continue his retreat, but he had no intention of taking up a timid policy after braving so many passed dangers. He had resolved to maintain himself between Santarem and the Zezere, and to call down Drouet and other reinforcements[567], in the hope that, ere the winter was over, the Emperor might find means to strengthen him to a force which, with the co-operation of Soult from Andalusia, would enable him finally to resume the offensive, and make a second and more formidable attack upon the Lines. In adopting this resolve he was, though as yet he knew it not, carrying out the instructions which the Emperor was at this very moment (November 22) dictating to Foy at Paris. But Wellington had not written at random when he reminded Lord Liverpool of the terrors of a Portuguese winter, and in the end the Prince of Essling was forced to begin on the 1st of March, with under 40,000 men of his original force, the retreat which he might have commenced on November 20 with over 50,000[568].

The scheme for starving out the French, which Wellington had devised early in 1810, and begun to execute in September, was now transferred to a different area. Masséna had been able to endure for a month in front of the Lisbon Lines: the question now was whether he would be able to live so long in the land between the Rio Mayor and the Zezere. Wellington could not be sure of his data, in calculating the day when exhaustion would once more compel the French to shift their[p. 478] ground. It was only certain that the plain of Goleg?o, and the Thomar-Torres Novas country, had not been devastated by the Portuguese government even with the same energy that they had displayed in the Lisbon Peninsula. And there, as the British Commander-in-Chief complained, not half the necessary work had been done. Yet something had certainly been accomplished; the population had nearly all been withdrawn, the mills destroyed, the corn buried or sent over the Tagus. Trusting to these facts, and to the rains and frosts of the oncoming winter, Wellington hoped that Masséna would finally be reduced to a disastrous retreat by sheer privation. ‘Though it is certainly astonishing that the enemy have been able to remain in this country so long, and it is an extraordinary instance of what a French army can do[569].’

Resolved to take no further offensive action, and to let famine do its work, Wellington, on November 24, gave orders for the army to draw back and go into winter quarters, leaving only Craufurd and Pack in touch with the enemy in front of Santarem, and Spencer in support of them at Cartaxo. Of the other divisions, Hill remained behind the Tagus at Chamusca and Almeirim, with his own troops and Hamilton’s Portuguese. Picton and the 3rd Division retained their old post at Torres Vedras, with Coleman and Alex. Campbell’s Portuguese near them. Cole remained at Azambuja, in rear of Spencer. Leith was sent back to Alcoentre, Campbell’s 6th Division was placed at Alemquer, behind Leith. Le Cor’s Portuguese stayed at Alhandra, within the Lines.

‘The army thus placed,’ writes D’Urban, the Quarter-Master-General, on this day, ‘at once takes care of Abrantes (by means of Hill), observes the enemy at Santarem (with Craufurd and Pack), has a division on the higher Rio Mayor road to turn the enemy’s right, if this become expedient (Leith’s to wit), and still “appuis” itself on the Lines, its retreat into which is secured by its echelloned position. Means are ready to pass General Hill back to the right bank of the Tagus, with such celerity, that his divisions can be counted upon for the order of march or battle on this side of the river as certainly as if he were already there[570].’

[p. 479]

Masséna, on the other hand, also remained nearly quiescent for many days, the only important change which he made in the cantonments of his army being that he moved in Clausel’s division closer to Santarem, to fill the dangerous gap between the 2nd and 8th Corps, which had existed on November 18. On the 22nd and 23rd he pushed forward, against Pack’s Portuguese and Anson’s light cavalry, a considerable force, consisting of Clausel’s whole division and six squadrons from the 8th Corps, and General Pierre Soult with two cavalry regiments and three battalions from the 2nd Corps. After some lively but bloodless skirmishing, the allied troops retired behind the Rio Mayor, evacuating the village of Calares beyond the stream, and drawing in their cavalry pickets, which had hitherto held some ground on the further bank. This affair confirmed Wellington in his conclusion that nearly the whole French army was now concentrated on the Santarem-Pernes line, and made him more reluctant than ever to take the offensive.

Meanwhile Montbrun’s cavalry, supported by small detachments from the infantry of Ney’s corps, had pressed somewhat further to the north, in order to occupy a broader tract of land from which the army might feed itself, a task that grew harder every day. From his head quarters at Ourem and from Caba?os, on the Thomar-Coimbra road, he continued to send out strong reconnaissances in every direction, of which some occasionally pushed as far as Leiria on the road towards Coimbra, and others scoured the left bank of the lower Zezere and the Nabao. The limit of their excursions was fixed by the fact that Wilson’s brigade of Portuguese militia still lay at Espinhal, and, though it was reduced by desertion and sickness to 1,500 men, was reported to Montbrun as a serious force, with which he had better not meddle. Trant’s troops at Coimbra—a weak militia division—were also estimated at much over their real strength. It was not till later that sheer starvation drove the French further afield, and revealed to them the weakness of the cordon of inferior troops which hemmed them in upon the northern side.

The blockade of the French army, therefore, remained still unbroken, and its communication with the north was as[p. 480] absolutely interrupted in the end of November as in the beginning of October. One attempt to break through the screen of Portuguese irregulars had been made in November, but of its failure Masséna had as yet no knowledge. When Foy reached Rodrigo, on his way to Paris, he had handed over his escort of one battalion of infantry and 120 horsemen to General Gardanne, who was ordered to strengthen them with all the convalescents of the Army of Portugal, and with the garrisons of Almeida and Rodrigo also, if these last had now been relieved by troops of Drouet’s 9th Corps. At the head of 6,000 men, as Masséna calculated, he could cut his way to join the main army, escorting a great train of munitions, of which both the artillery and the infantry at the front were lamentably in need. Gardanne could not gather in the Almeida garrison, as that place was still blockaded by Silveira’s Portuguese. But with the two battalions from Rodrigo, added to Foy’s late escort, and a mass of convalescents, he had collected some 5,000 men by November 20[571], the day on which he marched by the Sabugal-Belmonte-Fund?o route towards Punhete and the lower Zezere. He was cursed with dreadful weather, followed and harassed by all the Ordenan?a of the Castello Branco country, hampered by his heavy convoy, and much troubled by the disorderly convalescents, who were largely professional malingerers. But he got as far as Cardigos on the Sobreira-Formosa road, only fifteen miles from Punhete, where Loison was awaiting him on the Zezere. Here he was brought to a stand (November 27) by the flooded and bridgeless stream of the Codes. No news had reached him from Masséna, while he was assured by Portuguese deserters, who probably were sent out to deceive him by the governor of Abrantes, that the Marshal had not only evacuated his position before the Lines, but was retreating on Spain via the Mondego. They added that Hill had just reached Abrantes with 10,000 men, and was about to march against him. Thereupon Gardanne hastily turned back, reached Penamacor by forced marches on[p. 481] November 29, and from thence retired to Rodrigo, having lost 400 men and 300 horses by disease and fatigue during his ill-conducted expedition. If he had pushed forward fifteen miles further on the 28th, he would have got into touch with Loison, and reached Masséna’s head quarters in safety. Wellington, not without reason, professed himself unable to comprehend this strange march and countermarch. ‘I do not exactly understand this movement[572],’ and ‘if this march was ordered by superior authority, and was connected with any other arrangements, it had every appearance of, and was attended by all the consequences of, a precipitate and forced retreat[573].’

Here, then, we leave Masséna and his army, cantoned in the space between the Rio Mayor and the Zezere, still destitute of news from France, and still entirely ignorant whether or no any endeavour was being made to relieve them. Of their further doings during the three months that ended on March 1, 1811, we shall tell elsewhere. Suffice it to say that, despite many dangers and risks, Wellington’s scheme of starvation was played out to the end, and achieved complete success. Of the privation and losses that the French suffered, and the atrocities that they committed, of the difficulties of the British Commander-in-Chief—with an obstinate enemy still in front of him, a factious Regency and a half-starved population behind him in Lisbon, and a disquieting prospect that Soult might take a hand in the game—the fourth volume of this work will give full details.