KING JOSEPH AND HIS TROUBLES
While following the fortunes of Wellington and Masséna, during the first four months of 1811, we have been compelled to leave almost untouched the sequence of events in the rest of Spain; not only the doings of Suchet and Macdonald in the far east, which had no practical connexion with the campaign of Portugal, but also the minor affairs of the southern and central provinces. Only Soult’s expedition to Estremadura, which came into close touch with Wellington, has been dealt with. It is time to explain the general posture of the war in the Peninsula, during the time when its critical point lay between Lisbon and Abrantes, where Masséna and Wellington stood face to face, each waiting for the other to move.
What was going on in Portugal was, as we have already seen, practically a secret to the French in Spain. For the Portuguese Ordenan?a and the Spanish guerrilleros had done their work of blocking the roads so well, that no accurate information penetrated to Madrid, Valladolid, or Seville from Santarem. It was only at rare intervals, when Foy and other officers cut their way through this ‘fog of war’ that the condition of affairs on the Tagus became known for a moment. The fog descended again when they had passed through on their way to Paris, and given their information as to the fortunes of the Army of Portugal during the weeks that preceded their departure. The gaps in the narrative were very long—nothing got through between the departure of Masséna from Almeida on September 15, 1810, and Foy’s first arrival at Ciudad Rodrigo on November 8th.[p. 207] There was another lacuna in the knowledge of the situation between that date and the passage of Masséna’s second successful messenger, Casabianca, from Santarem to Rodrigo in the earliest days of February. And after Casabianca had passed by, the next news came out through Foy’s second mission, when he started to announce the oncoming retreat on March 5, and got to the borders of Leon on March 13. The only way in which King Joseph at Madrid, or the generals of the ‘military governments’ of Old Castile, or Soult in Andalusia, felt the course of the war on its most important theatre, was that they were for many months freed from any anxiety about the movements of Wellington. He was ‘contained’ by Masséna, and, however he might be faring, he had no power to interfere by armed force in the affairs of Spain. The French for all this time had to deal only with the armies of the Cortes, and with their old and irrepressible enemies the guerrilleros of the mountains.
While the fate of the Portuguese expedition was still uncertain, while it seemed possible to Napoleon that Masséna might cling to his position at Santarem till Soult came up to join him on the Tagus, a considerable change was made with regard to the French troops in northern Spain. Convinced at last there was little to be said in favour of that system of many small ‘military governments’, in Old Castile and the neighbouring provinces, which he had created in 1810, the Emperor resolved to put them all under a single commander. This would give him six less independent generals to communicate with, and would ensure for the future a much better co-operation between the divisions which occupied the valley of the Douro and the Pyrenean regions. The six military governors had been each playing his own game, and taking little notice of that of his neighbours. Their enemies were mostly the guerrillero bands of the Cantabrian hills and of Navarre. Each general did his best to hunt these elusive enemies out of his own department, but took little heed of their trespasses on his neighbours’ territory. Evasive and indomitable partisans like Mina in Navarre, Julian Sanchez in Old Castile, and Porlier and Longa in the Cantabrian sierras, found it comparatively easy to shift their positions when the pressure on one region was too great for them, and to move on into another—they were sure that the hunt would soon slacken, and that they[p. 208] could return at their leisure to their old haunts. The Emperor thought that it would be possible to make an end of them, if all his garrisons and movable columns in northern Spain were put under a single commander and moved in unison under a single will. Hence came the decree of January 8, 1811, creating the ‘Army of the North,’ and handing it over to Marshal Bessières, whose name was still remembered in those regions owing to his old victory of Medina de Rio Seco. His authority extended over the troops stationed in Navarre, Biscay, Burgos, Valladolid, Salamanca, the Asturias, and Santander, including not only the regular garrisons of those provinces but the two divisions of the Young Guard, which had replaced Drouet’s corps in Old Castile, and the division under Serras which watched Galicia from the direction of Benavente and Astorga. The total of the forces placed under his orders amounted to 70,000 men, of whom 59,000 were ‘présents sous les armes,’ the rest being in hospital, or detached outside the limits of the territory assigned to the Army of the North.
Considerable as was this force, it did not accomplish all that the Emperor hoped, even when directed by a single commander of solid military talents. Bessières, though a capable officer, was not a genius, and the tasks assigned to him were so multifarious that after a short time he began to grow harassed and worried, and to cavil at every order that was sent him. He was directed to ‘suppress brigandage,’ i. e. to put down the guerrilleros, to support the Army of Portugal against Wellington whenever necessary, to keep an eye upon the Spanish regular forces in Galicia and the Asturias. This, he declared, was more than could be accomplished with the forces at his disposal. ‘If I concentrate 20,000 men all communications are lost, and the insurgents will make enormous progress. The coast would be lost as far as Bilbao. We are without resources, because it is only with the greatest pains that the troops can be fed from day to day. The spirit of the population is abominably bad: the retreat of the Army of Portugal has turned their heads. The bands of insurgents grow larger, and recruit themselves actively on every side.... The Emperor is deceived about Spain: the pacification of Spain does not depend on a battle with the English, who will accept it or refuse it as they please, and who have Portugal[p. 209] behind them for retreat. Every one knows the vicious system of our operations. Every one allows that we are too widely scattered. We occupy too much territory, we use up our resources without profit and without necessity: we are clinging on to dreams. Cadiz and Badajoz absorb all our means—Cadiz because we cannot take it, Badajoz because it requires a whole army to support it. We ought to blow up Badajoz, and to abandon the siege of Cadiz for the present. We ought to draw in, get solid bases for our magazines and hospitals, and regard two-thirds of Spain as a vast battlefield, which a battle may give us or cause us to lose, till the moment that we change our system and take in hand the real conquest and pacification of the country,’ &c.[264]
All this means that Bessières found it impossible to pacify the North, and concluded that it was useless to try to complete the conquest of Andalusia or Portugal, when that of Navarre and Santander was so far from being secure that no small party could go two miles from a garrison town, without a large probability of being cut off by the insurgents. He would have had his master abandon Andalusia and Estremadura, in order to concentrate such masses of troops in the north that the guerrilleros should be smothered by mere numbers, that every mountain village should have its garrison. There was small likelihood that his views would find favour at Paris; the Emperor knew well enough the effect on his prestige that would result from the abandonment of the siege of Cadiz, following upon the retreat of Masséna from Santarem. It would look like a confession of defeat, a renunciation of the great game of conquest; if the French armies retired beyond the Sierra Morena, the results of eighteen months of victorious campaigning in the south would be lost, and the Cortes at Cadiz would once more have a realm to administer. Hence all that Napoleon did for Bessières was to send him in June two new divisions for the strengthening of the garrisons of the North[265], and to bid him fortify every important station on the high-road to Madrid, and even the main bridges of the upper Ebro. A few months later he recalled him, partly[p. 210] because he considered him a pessimist, partly because Bessières quarrelled with King Joseph, who was continually soliciting his removal. But before the Duke of Istria departed he had many more troubles to go through, as will be seen.
The main difficulties of the Army of the North arose from geographical facts. While the plains of Leon and Old Castile could be scoured by cavalry, and easily traversed by flying columns, so that it was not impossible to keep some sort of order in them, this flat upland was bordered on the north by the long chain of the Cantabrian sierras and their foot-hills, broad, rugged, and nearly roadless. Behind these again lay the narrow and difficult coast-land of Asturias and Santander, cut up into countless petty valleys each drained by its own small river, and parted from its neighbours by spurs of the great sierras. How was this mountain region, seventy miles broad and two hundred long, to be dealt with? The French had no permanent garrisons on the coast between Gijon, the port of Oviedo, which was generally occupied by a detachment of Bonnet’s division, and Santander, not far from the borders of Biscay[266]. This last Bessières describes as ‘a bad post from every point of view, only to be defended by covering it with large bodies of troops,’ and only accessible by a series of difficult defiles. In the Cantabrian highlands dwelt Longa and Porlier, with bands which had assumed the proportions of small armies; they could communicate with the sea at any one of a dozen petty ports, and draw arms and supplies from the British cruisers of the Bay of Biscay. Even Mina would occasionally get in touch with the sea through this coast-land, though his main sphere of operations was in Navarre. There were dozens of smaller bands, each based on its own valley, but capable of joining its neighbours for a sudden stroke. Again and again French columns worked up into these sierras from the plain of the Douro, and went on a hunt after the patriots. Sometimes they caught them and inflicted severe loss; more often they were eluded by their enemies, who fled by paths that regular troops could not follow, into some distant corner of the mountains. It was impossible to garrison each upland valley with a force that could resist a general levy of the insur[p. 211]gents. Even little towns like Potes, in the Liebana, Longa’s usual head quarters, which were repeatedly taken, could not be kept. The ‘Army of the North’ would have required 150,000 men instead of the 70,000 whom Bessières actually commanded, if it was to master the whole of this difficult region. Indeed, Cantabria could only have been conquered by an enemy possessing a sea force to attack it in the rear, and occupy all its little ports, as well as an overwhelming land army operating from all sides. To the end of the war Longa and Porlier, often hunted but never destroyed, maintained themselves without any great difficulty in their fastnesses. Nothing but the general despair and demoralization that might have followed the extinction of the patriotic cause in the whole of the rest of Spain, could have brought the war in this region to an end. Nothing of the kind occurred: the Cantabrians kept a high spirit; they won many small successes, and they were perpetually helped by the British from the side of the sea. Bessières had a hopeless problem before him in this quarter, considering the size of his army.
But this was not his only trouble; Bonnet in Asturias was holding Oviedo and the district immediately round it with a strong division, which varied at one time and another from 6,000 to 8,000 men. He was very useful in his present position, because he cut the Spanish line of defence along the north coast in two, and because he seemed to threaten Galicia from the north-east. The threat was not a very real one, for he had not enough men to deliver an attack on eastern Galicia and at the same time to hold Oviedo and its neighbourhood. But he was a source of trouble as well as of strength to his superiors, for it was very difficult to keep in touch with him through the pass of Pajares, and if he were to be attacked at once by the Galicians and by a British landing-force, his position would be a very dangerous one. He had been put to great trouble by Renovales’s naval expedition in October 1810[267], though this was but a small force and had not received any real help from Galicia along the land side. Bessières, after he had been a few months in authority, was inclined to withdraw Bonnet to the south side of the sierras, and to abandon Oviedo, but was warned against such a move by his master, who said that this would be ‘a detestable opera[p. 212]tion,’ as it would relieve Galicia from the threat of invasion, allow of the re-formation of a Junta and an army in Asturias, and necessitate a heavy concentration at Santander[268]. Nevertheless the Marshal did at one crisis withdraw the division from Oviedo.
Between Bonnet in the Asturias and Ciudad Rodrigo, the long front against Galicia was occupied by a single weak French division, that of Serras, whose head quarters were at Benavente, his advanced post at Astorga, and his flank-guards at Leon and Zamora[269]. If the army of Galicia had been in good order this force would have been in great danger, for it was not strong enough to hold the ground allotted to it. But when Del Parque in 1809 drew off to Estremadura the old Army of the North, he had left behind him only a few skeleton corps, and the best of these had been destroyed in defending Astorga in the following year. The formation of a new Galician army of 20,000 men had been decreed, and the cadres left behind in the country had been filled up in 1810, but the results were not satisfactory. The Captain-General, Mahy, was a man of little energy, and spent most of it in quarrels with the local Junta, whom he accused of conspiracy against him, and charged with secret correspondence with La Romana and his party. He seized their letters in the post and imprisoned two members, whereupon riots broke out, and complaints were sent to the Regency at Cadiz. This led to Mahy’s recall, and the captain-generalship was given to the Duke of Albuquerque, then on his mission to London. He died without having returned to Spain, so that the appointment was nugatory, and the Regency then gave it to Casta?os, who was at the same time made Captain-General of Estremadura, after the death of La Romana and the disaster at the Gebora. Casta?os went to the Tagus, to rally the poor remnants of the Estremaduran army, and while retaining the nominal command in Galicia never visited that province, but deputed the command in it to Santocildes, the young general who had so bravely defended Astorga in the preceding spring. He had been sent prisoner to France, but was adroit enough to escape[p. 213] from his captivity, and to make his way back to Corunna. His appointment was popular, but he got no great service out of the Galician army, which was in a deplorable condition, and hopelessly scattered. The Junta kept many battalions to garrison the harbour-fortresses of Corunna, Vigo, and Ferrol, and the main body, whose head quarters lay at Villafranca in the Vierzo, did not amount to more than 7,000 men, destitute of cavalry (which Galicia could never produce) and very poorly provided with artillery. There was another division, under General Cabrera, some 4,000 strong, at Puebla de Senabria, and a third under Barcena and Losada on the borders of the Asturias, opposite Bonnet. The whole did not amount to 16,000 raw troops—yet this was sufficient to hold Serras in observation and to watch Bonnet, who was too much distracted by the Cantabrian bands to be really dangerous. But in the spring of 1811 the Galicians could do no more, and Wellington was much chagrined to find that he could get no effective assistance from them, after he had driven Masséna behind the Agueda, and so shaken the hold of the French on the whole kingdom of Leon. It was not till June that Santocildes found it possible to descend from the hills and threaten Serras. This led to a petty campaign about Astorga and on the Orbigo river, which will be narrated in its due place.
While affairs stood thus in the north, King Joseph and his ‘Army of the Centre’ were profiting for many months from the absence of any danger upon the side of Portugal. Indeed, the period between September 1810 and April 1811 were the least disturbed of any in the short and troublous reign of the Rey Intruso, so far as regular military affairs went. There was no enemy to face save the guerrilleros, yet these bold partisans, of whom the best known were the Empecinado and El Medico (Dr. Juan Palarea) on the side of the eastern mountains, and Julian Sanchez more to the west, on the borders of Leon, sufficed to keep the 20,000 men of whom King Joseph could dispose[270][p. 214] in constant employment. Such a force was not too much when every small town, almost every village, of New Castile had to be provided with a garrison. Roughly speaking, each province absorbed a division: the Germans of the Rheinbund occupied La Mancha, Lahoussaye’s dragoons and the incomplete division of Dessolles[271] held Toledo and its district, the King’s Spaniards the Guadalajara country, leaving only the Royal Guards and some drafts and detachments to garrison the capital. It was with considerable difficulty that Joseph collected in January 1811 a small expeditionary force of not over 3,500 men[272], with which Lahoussaye went out, partly to open up communications with Soult in Estremadura, but more especially to search for any traces of the vanished army of Masséna in the direction of the Portuguese frontier. Lahoussaye started from Talavera on February 1, communicated by means of his cavalry with Soult’s outposts between Truxillo and Merida, and then went northward across the Tagus to Plasencia, from which his cavalry searched in vain, as far as Coria and Alcantara, for any news of the Army of Portugal. From Plasencia he was soon driven back to Toledo by want of supplies. Joseph had directed him to seize Alcantara, re-establish its broken bridge, and place a garrison there; but this turned out to be absolutely impossible, for it would have been useless to leave a small force in this remote spot, when it was certain that it must ere long retire for lack of food, and might well be cut off by the guerrilleros before it could reach Talavera, the nearest occupied point[273].
The Army of the Centre just sufficed to occupy the kingdom of New Castile, and was unable to do more. At least, however, it could maintain its position, and was in no danger. The King was even able to make state visits to places in the close neighbourhood of Madrid, such as Alcala and Guadalajara[274], and[p. 215] seems to have regarded the possibility of such a modest tour as a sign of the approaching pacification of this region.
But just at the moment when Joseph Bonaparte’s military situation was safe, if not satisfactory, he was passing through a diplomatic crisis which absorbed all his attention and reduced him to the verge of despair. We have already alluded, in an earlier chapter, to Napoleon’s insane resolve to annex all Spain beyond the Ebro to the French Empire[275], in return for which he was proposing to hand over Portugal, when it should be conquered, to his brother. The proclamation announcing this strange resolve, which was to make Frenchmen of Mina and all the guerrilleros of Navarre, no less than of the Catalan armies which were still striving so hard against Macdonald, was delayed in publication. For the Emperor wished to wait till Lisbon was in the hands of Masséna, before he made known his purpose. But Joseph was aware that the proclamation had been drawn up, and had been sent out to the governors of the northern provinces, who were only waiting for orders to issue it. The news that the English had evacuated Portugal might any day arrive, and would be the signal for the dismemberment of Spain. He had sent in succession to Paris his two most trusted Spanish adherents, the Duke of Santa-Fé and the Marquis of Almenara, to beg the Emperor to forgo his purpose; all was to no effect. Santa-Fé came back in December absolutely crushed by the reception that he had been given; the Emperor had delivered to him an angry diatribe, in which he complained that his brother forgot that he was a French prince, and remarked that ‘many other European sovereigns, who had received much harder measure, did not make nearly so much noise about it as the King of Spain[276].’ Almenara reached Madrid about a week later to report an equally characteristic interview with Napoleon. He had been directe............