The English, never dreaming that the French commander would be thus separated from his army, took our group for a rear-guard, which they did not venture to attack; but it is certain that if the hussars had made a resolute charge, they would have carried off Massena and all who were with him.197
Naturally this gave Massena even more reason to dislike Ney, whom Marbot felt had retreated long before he needed to at Condeixa. Indeed, Massena believed that the animosity between them had grown to such an extent that Ney might have wilfully placed him in danger. It seemed that everything was going wrong, and the burdens of command were added to by Massena’s need to look after his mistress. Though a good rider, she had taken a series of hard falls riding over rough ground during the retreat and had to be carried along by two grenadiers. With the pursuit becoming more aggressive, she was likely to be taken by the enemy if they were hard pressed. Several times Marbot heard his commander exclaim: ‘What a mistake I made in bringing a woman to the war!’198
The retreat was taking a severe toll on the Army of Portugal. After months of being cold and hungry, men were falling at the roadsides and with so few transport wagons many were simply left where they fell. The lucky ones were taken by the Allies as they advanced, but those discovered by guerrillas or the peasantry suffered severely:
The Portuguese were not unrevenged (sic) of their destroyers, great numbers of whom had lain down, unable to proceed, from wounds or fatigue, and had either been killed by the peasantry, or died, unheard, amongst the devastation themselves or their fellows had made.199
Following the wanton destruction and the abuse of their people, many stragglers were tortured and mutilated before being put to death by the vengeful Portuguese. The invaders had despoiled their country and therefore paid a terrible price when they fell into the hands of those they had dispossessed.
As the French passed through Miranda de Corvo, constant and bitter skirmishing took place between the rearguard and British light troops as Ney did his best to ensure that small ambushes constantly waylaid the Allied advance. The cavalry in the vanguard were frequently attacked by dragoons firing carbines from the saddle, who then fled after causing disruption or engaged in brief, running fights with their pursuers. Marbot was caught up in a rearguard incident. Riding with a dispatch from Massena to Ney, he was fired upon several times by light infantry and, when returning, was challenged by a mounted infantry officer to single combat. At first refusing to acknowledge the challenge, he turned and rode at his adversary when accused of cowardice. As he did so, two hussars rode from the woods to ambush him:
I was caught in a trap, and understood that only a most energetic defence could save me… So I flew upon the English officer; we met; he gave me a slash across the face, I ran my sword into his throat. His blood spurted all over me, and the wretch fell from his horse to the ground, which he bit in his rage. Meanwhile, the two hussars were hitting me all over…200
The aide managed to strike one of his assailants in the mouth, cutting his face open and forcing him to ride away. Seeing light troops from both sides approaching, and with musket balls hissing about them, the other hussar turned and followed, only to receive a thrust from Marbot in his shoulder as he did so. Though Massena praised his bravery, he admonished him gently for getting involved in outpost skirmishing, where an aide had no business to be. Marbot had been badly injured in the fight and, barely able to ride, was lucky to survive the retreat.
Firing Miranda de Corvo behind them, Ney’s rearguard prepared to make another stand before the village of Foz de Arouce on the River Ceira. The bridge before the village was narrow and had been damaged by the peasantry but II and VIII Corps only crossed with difficulty. Massena ordered the rearguard across and to hold the line of the river, but unaccountably Ney left two infantry divisions in the meadows with the river at their backs, along with Lamotte’s cavalry brigade. On 14 March, as the British approached, both Picton and Erskine assumed that Wellington would proceed with caution and attack the next day. However, despite the heavy fog that had come down, Wellington reconnoitred the French position and decided to attack at once, having observed the French seemingly dispersed and many troops cooking over their campfires.
As the British advanced, a confused action took place amid the mist. At first the French stood their ground in line, trading volley fire with the British infantry but soon at least two battalions broke and fled for the bridge. Seeing the crush of fugitives around the structure, many tried to ford the river instead and were swept away. The Ceira was in spate and the water was deeper than usual, with dozens of fugitives drowning. Ney led a bayonet charge with the 69th Line, partially restoring the situation. During the attacks made by both sides a curious incident took place, which apparently terminated the affair:
We on the right bank then witnessed a sight unusual in war: two sides flying each from the other in complete disorder! Finally the panic on both sides was checked and English and French returned to the abandoned ground to pick up their muskets; but both sides were so much ashamed that, though they were quite close to each other, not a shot was fired nor any challenge exchanged, and they returned to their positions in silence.201
During the initial panic of the retreat, the French hamstrung 500 mules and horses for fear of them falling into enemy hands. The gruesome sight of these doomed animals foundering in the mud amidst a wash of blood sickened the redcoats as the French fell back before them, destroying the bridge as they did so. Grattan recorded that, in their wasted and starved condition, the animals would have been no good to anyone and that it was considered a bestial and savage act.202
On 16 March Wellington decided to halt his army’s advance at Foz de Arouce. He was obliged to feed his troops by supply column from Lisbon and, though his improved commissariat was performing the task ably, the Portuguese were receiving next to nothing from their own supply masters. Obliged to feed both, the British commissariat could not cope and they would have to wait until sufficient stocks reached them. In any case, Wellington had achieved his main objective of denying the enemy a route into central Portugal and they now seemed bent on leaving the country. He had finally received reinforcements in Lisbon and the newly formed 7th Division was marching to join him. However, on 11 March Badajoz had capitulated and he had only just received the news. Though Soult’s forces remained relatively immobile, he feared a move on the fortress town of Elvas and consequently dispatched troops to reinforce the south, leaving him with an army of roughly 30,000 to continue the pursuit.
The French had been allowed a breathing space and retreated along the line of the Mondego, reaching Colerico about twenty miles from Almeida. Trant’s levies were shadowing them along the northern bank of the Mondego, but were unlikely to interfere seriously with French progress and Wellington was a couple of days behind. At this juncture Massena made a curious decision, motivated it seems by a stubborn refusal to admit defeat. He had also heard of Wellington’s political difficulties, with doubts expressed in Parliament and by the Portuguese Regency about the ruinous cost of the war. He gave orders to march southwards on Guarda with the intent of crossing the Tagus out of reach of British interference and marching once more on Lisbon along the southern bank. The officers of his tired and ragged army received this news with shock and dismay. Ney angrily refused to obey his orders, knowing that the men needed rest, shelter and food before any offensive operations could even be contemplated. He wrote to his commander in the strongest terms, refusing to have anything to do with the plan and complaining: ‘Since you always wait for the moment of greatest danger to make up your mind, I am obliged to prevent the total ruin of the army.’203
Massena was scandalised and wanted to dismiss Ney there and then. Pelet tried to calm him and emphasised what a triumph it was for the enemy that there should be such inner division within their army. The marshal relented but, after an exchange of angry recriminations, disregarded Pelet’s advice and removed Ney from command, appointing General Loison over VI Corps in his stea
d. Ney was instructed to return to Spain and await the Emperor’s pleasure whilst, to ensure his side of the story had the first hearing, Pelet was dispatched to Paris. Massena assured him: ‘You do not need any instructions. You will see the Emperor and tell him everything that you judge proper.’204 Throughout the campaign Ney had hindered him at every turn with insubordination, intransigence and abuse. Massena had finally had enough, though the army was shocked and bewildered by Ney’s loss.
Once they reached Guarda, Massena ordered a three-day halt to rest his army and sent Junot and Reynier to conduct a wide-ranging reconnaissance of the region he intended to march into. D’Erlon had also refused to march on the expedition, and had taken IX Corps to Almeida, but the Army of Portugal still comprised around 40,000 men. At Guarda, Massena received several dispatches from Napoleon, nearly all of which were two months old, proving the folly of the Emperor trying to influence the campaign from such a distance. The reconnaissance revealed the area to the south to be largely barren and D’Erlon sent news that Almeida had only fifteen days’ worth of provisions in its storehouses, with Ciudad Rodrigo in a similar state.205 The army was short of ammunition, horses and transport. It was also underfed and nearly exhausted, despite the brief rest. Finally seeing sense, Massena abandoned his plans and decided to retire behind the Côa.
Wellington had resumed his advance and the leading elements of his army arrived at Guarda just as the French were leaving. Grattan of the 88th recalled that they came to within two gunshots of the town without meeting any cavalry vedettes. They could not take advantage of this negligence since the artillery and sufficient cavalry were taking some time to catch up with the advance guard and:
…we had the mortification to witness the French getting out of it (the town), bag and baggage, as quick as they could. The scene of confusion that the streets presented was great; infantry, artillery, and baggage, men, women, and children, all mixed pell-mell together, hurrying to the high road leading to Sabugal.206
The Army of Portugal was now headed for Almeida and Reynier’s II Corps, comprising three divisions, was bringing up the rear. On 2 April Reynier had reached the town of Sabugal, situated on a bend in the River Côa. Knowing his position was isolated, Massena urged him to resume his march as soon as possible, but Reynier delayed, hoping to use darkness to cover his retreat. After a cautious pursuit, Wellington now decided that it was time to strike and hopefully inflict a grievous wound on the retiring French army. The dawn of 3 April was foggy with intermittent rain, but Wellington hoped it would assist his plans by masking the advance. The Light Division, with two attached brigades of cavalry, was to ford the Côa to the north, cutting off the French line of retreat and assailing their flank and rear. Simultaneously the 3rd, 5th and 7th Divisions would attack in force across the river against the town and hold the French in place. With luck Reynier’s Corps would be severely damaged or even cut off and destroyed.
From the very beginning things started to go wrong with the Allied plan. General Erskine, commanding the Light Division, crossed far too high upriver with the cavalry and failed to engage in the action. The 1 Brigade of the Light Division under Colonel Beckwith also crossed at the wrong ford, with the fog limiting visibility to 100 yards. The ford was only four miles above Sabugal and far too close to the French positions. The green-jacketed 95th waded across the river up to their armpits in places, holding their rifles above the water. Luckily the French picket only fired a single volley at the struggling men before retiring. Meanwhile, the main attack was proceeding far too slowly, the mist adding to their confusion, leaving the Light Division dangerously exposed.
Beckwith’s Brigade comprised around 3,500 men of the 95th and 43rd Regiments and the 3rd Caçadores, considered some of the best troops in the army. He was lucky to have such elite and experienced troops as, after driving in the enemy skirmishers, he was soon confronted by Merle’s Division. Though holding his own, Beckwith observed Heudelet’s Division advancing in column, intent on outflanking him, and he retired to a small hill. With both sides eager for a fight, a fierce struggle now ensued. Three columns of French infantry advanced against the British line with the drums beating the pas de charge and their officers roaring encouragement at the head of their men. After pushing back the skirmishers, they were coolly received by the redcoats of the 43rd, who fired volley after volley into their columns. Vastly outnumbered, the riflemen and Caçadores also formed line shoulder to shoulder, firing their rifles like muskets into the oncoming masses. The French had brought up a couple of howitzers that lobbed their heavy shells high over the advancing troops to explode over the British position, but the broken ground limited their effect.
As the first attack was beaten off, one of the howitzers was left between the two sides and a struggle ensued for its possession. The French infantry advanced three times to contest the gun, only to be driven back. Reynier had recovered well from his initial surprise, but now the main attack could be discerned, with the fog beginning to clear, and it was time to withdraw. After a brief fight in the town, his infantry fell back in some disorder but were covered by the 31st Line and 47th Line who had not been engaged. The last act against the beleaguered 1 Brigade was a cavalry charge led by General Pierre Soult, who drove the British back from the howitzer to a dry stone wall. His dragoons bravely rode up to the wall to fire pistols and carbines at the re-forming infantry, but so many saddles were emptied by riflemen sheltered there that they were forced to turn about and flee.207
Wellington had failed to inflict decisive damage on Reynier’s Corps, but the French had lost 760 casualties with eighty prisoners whilst the Allies suffered only 179 casualties. The Light Division bore the brunt of the British losses. For example, the 1st Battalion of the 43rd had suffered eighty casualties whilst 1 Brigade was engaging as many as ten French battalions, a stunning tribute to their fighting ability. The rain had diminished the use of musketry and the French should have possessed an advantage, with their preference for bayonet fighting over musketry, but the Light Division had repulsed them three times. Grattan had not taken part in the fighting, but walked the field afterwards and heard details of the fight. Whilst exchanging fire with the 43rd, the French had stuck the ramrods of the muskets into the ground before them to speed their rate of fire. The howitzer, now captured by the British, had been bitterly contested and all of its gun crew had perished in its defence. Grattan saw the body of a French artillery officer next to a gunner who sat with his back to the wheel of the gun as if resting:
A round shot had taken off his thigh a few inches below the groin… The bare stump exhibiting a shocking sight – the muscles, arteries, and flesh, all hanging in frightful confusion, presented the eye with a horrid sample of the effects of those means made use of by man for his own destruction…208
Since the gunner had been killed by Allied artillery, this meant that he had died late in the engagement as Allied guns only arrived towards the end of the action. The French were nearing the end of their long, gruelling retreat, but they still had plenty of fight left in them and it was agreed that they had rarely fought better than at Sabugal. Though briefly pursued by cavalry, Reynier soon resumed an orderly withdrawal. The French had had a lucky escape, only the fog and the confusion saving them from a worse defeat.
After some skirmishing around Almeida, the Army of Portugal withdrew over the border to camps in the region of Salamanca. The retreat officially ended on 11 April. Massena’s invasion had been defeated. Yet even now his authority was challenged. Though D’Erlon was now officially placed under him, Marshal Bessières questioned his requests for supplies, protesting that they belonged to the elements of the Young Guard that he commanded.209 Once again, the Emperor had not made Massena’s position clear to the army, a fact which protected his own authority but placed great strain on the marshal’s ability to perform his role. After almost continuous fighting over eleven months, the Army of Portugal had earned a better reception.
Once Wellington had reached Almeida
he halted, having reached the end of his resources. He swiftly blockaded the fortress and deliberated whether he should bring up a siege train to reduce it or move it south against Badajoz. On 10 April he issued a proclamation to the Portuguese people, announcing their deliverance from a cruel invader who had wrought terrible destruction on their country. They were free to return to their homes and professions, though the prospect of starting again in a man-made wilderness must have been daunting. The British were aware of the debt they owed to Portugal and several charitable relief committees were formed to help rebuild the country.210 London was well pleased with the outcome of the campaign and the Earl of Liverpool rushed to praise him:
I congratulate you most sincerely upon the successful conclusion of all your operations, as far as relates to the defence of Portugal. The event has most fully confirmed all your predictions, and the eyes of the world are now completely open to the wisdom of the system upon which you have been acting.211
However, many bemoaned the enormous costs of protecting Lisbon which, though relatively cheap in terms of troops, had amounted to over nine million pounds. Even General Tarleton, a hero of the American Rebellion and sympathetic to the military, questioned what he believed to be unnecessary expenditure, claiming Wellington should never have retreated after Busaço and had squandered thousands of pounds feeding the refugees in Lisbon. This was the responsibility of the Regency, he insisted, adding: ‘…we were even obliged to supply the army in Portugal with red port, which was infinitely worse than sending coals to Newcastle.’212 Wellington angrily refuted this, answering that such accusations were founded on propaganda published in the French newspapers. Ignoring the financial difficulties Perceval’s Government was undergoing, he raged at the political ‘betrayals’ that dogged his achievements. In a letter to his brother he claimed:
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