On 20 October Wellington admitted defeat. Even the withdrawal on the night of the 21st went awry, with the bullocks too few and weak to draw the old battered 18-pounders and howitzers. The former were therefore made useless and abandoned, being described by Wellington in his despatch as ‘destroyed by the enemy’s fire’, which was only half true. Even the plan to blow up the hornwork failed, through the powder barrels going to the wrong place. A sorry month-long saga, in which in total twenty-four officers and 485 men had been killed, sixty-eight officers and 1,445 wounded and forty-two men missing, a total bill of 2,064 all ranks. During the siege the day-after-day casualty list had ground remorselessly on, keeping the doctors forever busy. While the four storms cost 973 men, and the two French sorties 326 men, for each of the other twenty-six days of ‘inaction’ on average twenty-nine men were hit, which is a measure of French gunnery and marksmanship in the trenches.
The conduct of the siege can be criticised on several levels, and one must firstly quote the Commander’s own limited self-criticism:
The fault of which I was guilty in the expedition to Burgos was, not that I undertook the operation with inadequate means, but that I took there the most inexperienced instead of the best troops. I left at Madrid the 3rd, 4th and Light Divisions, who had been with myself always before; and I brought with me that were good the 1st Division, and they were inexperienced.
He went on in this letter to Lord Liverpool, as we quoted earlier, to blame Major Laurie of the 79th. Had Laurie succeeded in that very first attempt, he said ‘we had means sufficient to take the place.’ What nonsense! Neither his artillery nor his engineers were anything like adequate, and whose fault was that? Yes, had he had a dozen 24-pounders and no engineers the place would have fallen; yes, had he engineers to guide and proper miners to dig but no guns, the same can be said, and was indeed later said by Dickson, Burgoyne and Jones, polishing their own axes thereby. No, his Lordship’s scant early intelligence on the castle gave him no hint to be cautious. He was in no position to be cautious, he needed to get on, and get back: no time for guns to be fetched from Santander or Madrid, let’s get the ladders up and get in. Yet at the same time there was also a continuing reluctance to commit the overpowering numbers such an approach required, and this was so amateurish a mistake, we can only assume he was strongly influenced by his losses in the ditch at Badajoz. This reticence led to a rather half-hearted atmosphere by all concerned, including those due to climb the ladders: there is nothing like being more numerous than your enemy. Burgoyne, who after all was his Chief Engineer, tried to persuade him to use more men. ‘Why’ he said in reply ‘expose more men that can ascend the ladders or enter the work at any one time, when by this mode the support is ordered to be up in time to follow the tail of the preceding party close?’ Yet the supports were not always there, tight behind, when needed, and when men look around and see no-one, it’s a bit grim. The final assault on 18 October was notably unfunded. For their escalade, 300 guardsmen were to move up in successive waves of a forlorn hope of twenty men, then six storm parties of fifty men: but these were not to leave cover until the previous party had reached a certain point. For their breach, 300 Germans with a similar tiny hope and a support of fifty men – but these were not to move until the hope’s twenty men had reached the lip of the breach. A reserve of 200 men were to stay in their trench until the fifty-man support were well established on the rampart. Well, such a proceeding is clearly not remotely related to the 4th and Light Divisions – thousands in each! – each being given a breach at Badajoz! Why, they had more in their forlorn hopes than here the Guards and KGL had in their entirety!
A lack of endeavour was also noticed among the working parties, as Burgoyne wrote:
Our undertaking, every night that we broke ground, appeared most pitiful: there was scarcely a single instance where at least double the work was not projected, with sufficient men and tools collected, that was afterwards executed, owing to the neglect and misconduct of the working parties. It was seldom that the men could be induced to take out their gabions and set to work, and I myself placed at different times hundreds of gabions with my own hands, and then entreated the men to go and fill them, to no purpose. The engineers blamed the men – the men blamed the engineers, who, as they grumbled, were by unskilful direction ‘sending them out to be butchered’.
This regrettable attitude was surely not helped by Wellington’s own doubts, set out in letters at an early point, as we have seen. These might well have been known in Headquarters and, if so, gossip would have done the rest, down the officer chain, and the men would eavesdrop. Also on his shoulders was the use of ad hoc groupings of men, from whichever men were on duty in the trenches, especially if men were allocated away from their own officers and sergeants. Nothing like a proper spirit would exist in such circumstances, a fact of life known by the merest green subaltern, and it is to be wondered at, that his Lordship allowed it. It is one thing to ask for 200 volunteers from a division, another to make men wearing nine different cap badges work in harmony. They can’t, for they just don’t know the next man from Adam. Or their officer, probably. It is no coincidence that the cleanest, cheapest and quickest storm was that of 4 October, by the 2nd/24th.
What cannot be placed on Wellington’s shoulders, yet affected the outcome, was the appalling weather – both the heat and the torrents. Nor the skill and energy of his enemy and, in particular, the leadership of General Dubreton. Nor the Portuguese, who more than once were said to have been shy. Burgoyne was one of those who had no time for them, and he urged Wellington to ‘brigade them’, that is use them at all times in conjunction with British battalions or companies. However, their rather poor showing at Salamanca, and now for whatever reason in siegework, cannot be blamed upon Wellington; except, one supposes, in so far as he could have chosen not to use them.
Perhaps in the end we must simply blame Badajoz. The recent memory of what can follow full-blooded measures taken against a good enemy, dictated half measures this time. The snatching of Indian hill-forts, the Renault Redoubt, and Fort Picurina encouraged him in his belief in the coup-de-main use of ladders; indeed, had not Badajoz fallen in the end to those same devices, and the indomitable fighting qualities of the British soldier? But now it was October and the men were stale, and tired. They needed rest. No more miracles, for a while. Which was not a good starting point for a humiliating month-long march backwards of 200 grim miles. Many said what they now faced was worse than that other retreat four years back, to the ships at Corunna.
CHAPTER 18
Back to Portugal 22 October-19 November 1812
John Aitchison, 3rd Guards, wrote to his father on the last day of October:
The enemy had collected towards the beginning of this month a very considerable force in our front, and they gradually advanced towards Burgos as they found our inability to take it; on the 19th they were within one day’s march of it in force and Wellington then judged it proper to raise the siege and move forward to meet them. Accordingly on the 20th, soon after daybreak, the whole allied army was assembled in position about 7 miles from Burgos, on a range of hills covering the high road from Vitoria; in the afternoon the enemy came down upon us with a large body of Cavalry and about 15,000 Infantry, but being uncertain of the points occupied by us, they exposed their own right flank in their advance upon our right, and this error was instantly taken advantage of by Wellington – he quitted the heights with the left of the army, and advanced on the plain and gained considerably towards the rear of their right – but night came on and they effected their retreat, and we returned to our position about 9 o’clock.
We remained looking at each other throughout the whole of 21st, the enemy bringing up fresh troops and we making preparations for a retreat. As soon as the sun set we began to move, and notwithstanding it was fine moonlight we passed under the guns of the Castle within range of grape shot without being discovered, and before daybreak on the 22nd the whole of our army was three leagues i
n rear of Burgos. The next day we made a short march of a league and a half but we were compelled to quicken our pace on the 23rd.
The Army of Portugal had passed briefly into the hands of General Joseph Souham on 3 October, five weeks or so before King Joseph sacked him. He inherited an Army much improved in numbers and morale since 22 July. With 10,000 men in two divisions and 1,600 cavalry from Caffarelli’s Army of the North, and drafts of new men, he had some 51,000 men, whereas Wellington here had just 21,000 Anglo-Portuguese and 11,000 Spaniards, and was clearly not adequately placed. He must surely now have regretted leaving 17,000 in and around Madrid, to combine with Hill.
Yet Hill needed the 17,000 men also: news from him arrived on 21 October, as Wellington was being tested by Souham after his last abortive attempt on the castle; ‘The King, Soult, and Suchet having united their armies are on the frontiers of Murcia and Valencia, and appear to be moving this way. It is certain that a considerable force is advancing towards Madrid.’ That was the news that broke the siege, for the king’s combined strength, which Wellington judged to be ‘Not less than 50,000 men,’ put Hill also in jeopardy: it was imperative Wellington and Hill closed their 150-mile separation. Hill had accordingly been instructed to quit the Tagus and march north. He was to head for Arevalo, seventy miles north-west of Madrid, but in extremis to march west along the Tagus. So it was about-turn for all. Soult and the king were already at Ocana and Taracon, fifty miles below Madrid.
One of the 1st (Royal) Dragoons’ surgeons was George Burroughs. In a letter home he gives an account of the first two days of the retreat:
I had scarcely reposed an hour in my tent, and it was eleven o’clock at night, when my servant came to inform me the regiment was ordered to march. I arose hastily and dressed myself, the thunders of the artillery of the castle vibrating in my ears. My tent was instantly struck, and the baggage thrown upon the mule. The distant sounds of the artillery rattling on the roads, the buzzing murmurs of the passing soldiery, and the angry lightning from the cannon of the besieged castle, could not fail of inspiring sublimity even in the most vacant mind.
Having mounted my horse, I directed my way to Villa Toro, a very small and insignificant village, about two miles from Burgos, where the headquarters of the army had been established during the siege. As the narrow road (which from the late rains, was rendered heavy) led through the mountains, and lay out of the range of the shot of the castle; the spare artillery and hospital waggons, commissariat mules, and baggage of the army, proceeded by it. The throng presently became so great, that the cargoes of the mules were overturned, and in proportion to the opposition, did the desire of pushing forward increase. Everything was at a stand and in disorder. In one place were two or three sick soldiers bolstered up by their comrades’ knapsacks lying on a bullock car, and surrounded by some less sick companions; in another, bags of biscuit trodden under feet, and casks of rum stove in; here an artillery waggon had sunk axle-tree high in mud, the leading horses of which, having exhausted their strength to drag it out, were lying prostrate and panting in the road, so that it was with much difficulty I could proceed, and then only by striking out a path over the mountain.
Having entered Villa Toro, which presented one scene of bustle, I found the flying artillery of the Spanish army passing, and the streets so narrow and dirty, and so blocked up with beasts of burden of every sort, that the officers’ servants, of headquarters, were unable to load their mules with baggage, and the commissaries were in a like situation with regard to their supplies. Some considerable time elapsed before I got clear of this village, and had scarcely done so, when I overtook one of the eighteen-pounders, which had been employed on the horn-work of Saint Michael against the castle of Burgos. An extraordinary number of horses were endeavouring to drag the carriage through the muddy ground, but the resistance offered was so great, that it was ordered to be spiked and left behind.
I had now approached a village, and feeling an ague coming on, dismounted from my horse, at the door of a house which was open. On entering, quantities of burnt straw lay on the floor, with some wood, which seemed recently to have supplied a fire. Having ordered my baggage to be unloaded, and a fire to be kindled, I wrapped myself up in my cloak, and laid down, prepared to encounter the paroxysm. This hovel, which from its exterior, looked as decent as any in the place, was entirely divested of everything in the shape of furniture. The slender partitions which separated the upper rooms with the flooring, was removed, and only the central beam, that from its size had resisted every attempt, was remaining. Stores of all kinds and baggage continued to pass by, and the Portuguese soldiers were frequently entering my quarters to light their paper segars. As soon as break of day, I arose, and almost the first object that presented itself, was the 5th division and Spanish army, marching over the mountains which run northward through Old Castile, and which are a continuation of those forming the northern boundary to the kingdom of Leon.
A party of German hussars marching by, informed me the whole of the infantry had passed the skirts of the village, and that the cavalry would arrive presently. Having re-mounted, and marched about three miles, I overtook the 6th division, and proceeded with it to Celada del Camino, where the headquarters of our second in command, the Honourable Sir Edward Paget, was established; and, at some little distance, the column was encamped. These troops had arrived here about two hours before, and were cooking their dinners. I had but just come to my regiment, when the route was announced. The column was soon under arms, and proceeded to Vallefena, which after several halts we did not reach until dark. Vallefena is a small village, distance eight leagues from Burgos; and is situated on the Pisuerga river, over which a good stone bridge is thrown. There is much inconvenience suffered in coming to a bivouac at night, particularly in the present instance, as it was upon vineyard grounds, so that at every step we sunk deep in the soft ground surrounding the trunk of the vines, or else were thrown down by their long branches curling round our limbs. The tents were pitched, and the camp soon began to blaze with our fires. Our horses felt this night the want of straw; indeed, what little could be obtained, was always allotted to the cavalry and artillery horses.
There is in this account that whiff of confusion, ignorance and mild resignation which is a forerunner to the fear which characterises all retreats. And there in the want of straw lay a first hint of breakdown in supplies, which turned this retreat sour in spirit, and expensively wasteful in men and horses.
On 23 October the French vanguard was pushing hard and, with nearly 6,000 horsemen available, it was all Wellington’s skinny rearguard could do to keep them off the marching infantry. Anson’s and Bock’s brigades, and 1,000 of Julian Sanchez’s lancers, totalled no more than 2,000. They and two light battalions of the KGL had scampered over a tributary of the Arlanzon at Venta del Pozo, near the village of Villodrigo, having already held the French and gained precious time at a similar stream. The bridge gave Cotton a chance to emulate Lumley at Usagre in May 1811, that is, to catch the French as they crossed and were busy reforming. Unfortunately they were too close on Anson’s heels, whose squadrons whilst themselves reforming above the bridge masked the fire of Cotton’s horse artillery. French squadrons thus crossing without hindrance, a strong force quickly built up, and by the time Bock’s dragoons, supported by Anson, charged, they had missed their chance. The French were too numerous, and too boisterous, especially Boyer’s dragoons who crashed into the flank of the light cavalry. ‘Then’ wrote Napier, ‘the British ranks were broken, the regiments got inter-mixed and all went to the rear in confusion ... The swiftness of the English horses alone prevented a terrible catastrophe’, while the KGL squares with a ‘tempest of bullets emptied the French saddles by scores ... After three fruitless attempts to charge, [they]) reined up and drew off to the hills.’ This affair is partly covered by Surgeon Burroughs:
About half-past four o‘clock on the morning of the 23rd of October, an aide-de-camp of Sir Edward Paget’s, came to our ground,
and ordered the tents to be struck, and the baggage to be sent off; but it was six o’clock before the column was in motion and clear of the village. We continued our march, without interruption for several hours, along a very fine and level road, which seemed to lengthen, as we advanced. The 7th division, under the command of the Earl of Dalhousie, with the cavalry, formed the rear of the army; and as these troops approached the village of Toquemada, the French cavalry, chiefly composed of the Gendarmerie of Paris, began to display themselves. The Spanish army, under General Castanos, was retiring by Palencia, with the Spanish cavalry, under that meritorious officer, Don Julian de la Sanchez; but these cavalry were unequal, both from the size of their horses, and the paucity of their numbers compared to that of the enemy, either to make a charge, or to resist one. And the French having encountered and put them into disorder, they came flying upon the British cavalry, mixed with the enemy, in pursuit. Here the difference of language, with the similarity of the Spanish to the French uniform, created much confusion; and our light dragoons, under Sir Stapleton Cotton, (now Lord Combermere) having done everything bravery could effect, were overpowered by numbers, and obliged to retire. At this critical moment, the 7th division, composed for the most part of Foreign soldiers, was halted, and formed a square. In this square, the commander of the forces with his staff was observed; when the enemy endeavouring to charge the square, was foiled in the attempt, and kept at a respectable distance afterwards.
Salamanca 1812- Wellington’s Year of Victories Page 45
