CHAPTER IX

THE PURSUIT OF KING JOSEPH. MAJALAHONDA. WELLINGTON AT MADRID

Having thus made all his arrangements for ‘containing’ Clausel, and for dealing with what he considered the unlikely chance of an offensive move by the Army of Portugal, Wellington was at liberty to carry out his new strategical move. The mass of troops collected at Cuellar and its neighbourhood was at last set in motion, and, after his short halt and time of doubting, he himself marched against Madrid with the whole remaining force at his disposal--the 1st, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 7th, and Light Divisions, Arentschildt’s, Bock’s, and Ponsonby’s [late Le Marchant’s] cavalry brigades, the Portuguese infantry of Pack and Bradford, with D’Urban’s horse of that same nation, as also Carlos de España’s Spanish infantry and Julian Sanchez’s lancers. The whole, allowing for Salamanca losses and the wear and tear of the high-roads, amounted to about 36,000 men[650]. It was ample for the hunting of King Joseph, and sufficient, if Hill were called up, to face the King and Soult in conjunction, supposing that the latter should at last evacuate Andalusia and march on Toledo. Santocildes and Clinton were informed that it was the intention of the Commander-in-Chief to return to Castile when affairs in the South had been settled in a satisfactory fashion. No date, of course, could be assigned: all would depend on Soult’s next move.

[650] The 1st and 7th Divisions alone were up to their usual strength. The 4th and Light Divisions were still showing very weak battalions, owing to their dreadful Badajoz losses; and the former had also suffered very severely (1,000 casualties) at Salamanca. The 5th and 3rd had comparatively moderate casualties at each of these fights, but the combination of the two successive sets of losses had reduced them very considerably.

On August 7th the vanguard, consisting of the force that had occupied Segovia--D’Urban’s Portuguese squadrons, the heavy German dragoons, Macdonald’s horse artillery troop, and one light battalion of the German Legion--marched forward six leagues, ‘five of them against the collar,’ remarks an artillery officer. The steep route lay past the royal summer-palace of San Ildefonso, ‘a beautiful place, and most magnificently fitted up: what is very singular, the French have not destroyed a single stick of it: the rooms are hung as thick as can be with paintings _of sorts_[651].’ No hostile vedettes were discovered on the Guadarrama, and a reconnoitring party pushed as far as the Escurial, and reported that the enemy’s most outlying picket was at Galapagar, three or four miles to the south-east of that melancholy pile. Meanwhile the main body, a march behind the vanguard, started from Segovia on the 8th, Ponsonby’s dragoons and the 7th Division leading; then came Alten’s brigade, the 3rd, 4th, and 5th Divisions, and Pack. The rear was brought up by the 1st and Light Divisions and Bradford, who only started from the neighbourhood of Segovia on the 9th [652]. The necessity for moving the whole army by a single mountain road--though it was a well-engineered one--caused the column to be of an immoderate length, and progress was slow. Head-quarters were at San Ildefonso on the 8th and 9th August, at Nava Cerrada (beyond the summit of the Guadarrama) on the 10th, at Torre Lodones near the Escurial on the 11th.

[651] Dyneley’s diary in _R. A. Journal_, vol. xxiii. p. 454.

[652] Many of the brigades did not march through Segovia, but by crossroads around it: steep gradients and fatigue were thereby avoided. One route was by the deserted palace of Rio Frio, an old royal hunting-box.

Meanwhile D’Urban, far ahead of the main body, occupied the Escurial on the 9th, and pushed on cautiously to Galapagar, from whence the enemy had vanished. His rearguard was discovered at Las Rosas and Majalahonda, five miles nearer to Madrid. Wellington’s orders were that his vanguard was to keep well closed up, the Germans close behind the Portuguese, and that nothing was to be risked till support from the leading divisions of the army was close at hand. Wherefore on the 10th D’Urban, finding the French in force at Las Rosas, only advanced a few miles, and bivouacked on the Guadarrama river at the bridge of Retamar. He received news from the peasantry that King Joseph was preparing to evacuate Madrid, that convoys had already started, and that the main body of the Army of the Centre was to march by the road of Mostoles on Toledo, where Soult was expected in a few days. The information--true as regards the evacuation, false as regards the approach of Soult--was duly sent back to Wellington, who lay that night at Nava Cerrada, fifteen miles to the rear, with the 7th Division and Ponsonby’s cavalry [653].

[653] All this from D’Urban’s unpublished diary, as are also most of the details about the movements of the troops.

Madrid was at this moment a scene of tumult and despair. The King had retired from Segovia still in a state of uncertainty as to whether Wellington intended to turn against him, or whether he would pursue Clausel. He quite recognized the fact that, even if Soult obeyed the last dispatch sent to him on August 2nd, it would be too late for him to arrive in time to save Madrid. But there was a pause of some days, while Wellington was making up his mind at Cuellar, and it was only on the morning of the 8th that the news arrived that a strong column (D’Urban and the advanced guard) had started from Segovia on the preceding day, and that more troops were following. The orders to make ready for departure were issued at once, and a veritable panic set in among the French residents and the _Afrancesados_. ‘Every one,’ wrote a keen observer on the 9th August, ‘is packing up his valuables and making ready for a flitting. Not to speak of the many Spaniards of birth and fortune who have committed themselves to the King’s cause, there is an infinite number of minor officials and hangers-on of the palace, who by preference or by force of habit stuck to their old places. All these poor wretches dare not stay behind when the King goes--their lot would be undoubtedly a dreadful one, they would fall victims to the ferocious patriotism of their fellow-citizens, who have never forgiven their desertion. Since the word for departure went round, every one has been hunting for a vehicle or a saddle-beast, to get off at all costs. Add to this crowd a swarm of valets, servants, and dependants of all sorts. Most of the merchants and officials are, as is natural, taking their families with them: the caravan will be interminable. All night the noise of carriages, carts, and wagons, rolling by without a moment’s cessation under my windows, kept me from sleep.’ On the next morning he adds, ‘More than 2,000 vehicles of one sort and another, loaded with bundles and bales and furniture, with whole families squatting on top, have quitted Madrid. Adding those who follow on foot or on horseback, there must be easily 10,000 of them. They are mostly without arms, there are numbers of women, old people, and children: it is a lamentable sight: they take the Aranjuez road, guarded by a considerable escort[654].’

[654] Reiset’s _Souvenirs_, ii. pp. 358-60.

The King, after resigning himself to the retreat, and giving orders for the departure of the convoy and the greater part of his infantry, had still one troublesome point to settle. Should he, or should he not, leave a garrison behind, to defend the great fortified _enceinte_ on the Retiro heights, outside the eastern gate of the city, which his brother had constructed, to serve as a citadel to hold down Madrid, and an arsenal to contain the assortment of stores of all kinds. Heavy material, especially in the way of artillery--had been accumulating there since the French occupation began. Here were parked all the guns captured at Ucles, Almonaçid, and Ocaña, and tens of thousands of muskets, the spoil of those same fields. There was a whole convoy of clothing destined for the Army of the South, and much more that Joseph had caused to be made for his skeleton army of _Juramentados_. There were 900 barrels of powder and some millions of rounds of infantry cartridges, not to speak of much arsenal plant of all kinds. All this would have either to be blown up or to be defended. The fortifications were good against guerrilleros or insurgents: there was a double _enceinte_ and a star-fort in the interior. But against siege-guns the place could obviously hold out for not more than a limited number of days. After twenty-four hours of wavering, Joseph--contrary to Jourdan’s advice--resolved to garrison the Retiro, on the chance that it might defend itself till Soult reached Toledo, and a counter-attack upon Madrid became possible. If Soult should not appear, the place was doomed clearly enough: and the previous behaviour of the Duke of Dalmatia made it by no means likely that he would present himself in time. However, the King directed Lafon Blaniac, the governor of the province of La Mancha, to shut himself in the works, with some 2,000 men, consisting mainly of the drafts belonging to the Army of Andalusia: he would not leave any of the Army of the Centre. Probably he considered that Soult would feel more interest in the fate of the Retiro if his own men formed its garrison. They were a haphazard assembly, belonging to some dozen different regiments[655], under-officered and mostly conscripts. But they were all French troops of the line; no _Juramentados_ were among them. To their charge were handed over some 500 non-transportable sick of the Army of the Centre, mostly men who had collapsed under the recent forced marches to and from Blasco Sancho. They were not in the Retiro, but at the military hospital in the Prado, outside the fortifications.

[655] The surrender-rolls show that there were also some small leavings of Marmont’s troops in the Retiro, notably from the 50th Line [of which there were no less than six officers]. Of the Army of the South the 12th and 27th Léger, and 45th and 51st Line were strongly represented.

Having sent off towards Aranjuez his convoy and the larger part of his troops, the King was suddenly seized with a qualm that he might be flying from an imaginary danger. What if the column that had been heard of on the Guadarrama was simply a demonstration--perhaps half a dozen squadrons and a few battalions of infantry? He would be shamed for ever if he evacuated his capital before a skeleton enemy. Obsessed by this idea, he ordered General Treillard to take the whole of his cavalry--over 2,000 sabres--and drive in Wellington’s advanced guard at all costs: Palombini’s Italian division marched out from Madrid to support the reconnaissance. Treillard was ordered to use every effort to take prisoners, from whom information could probably be extracted by judicious questioning.

On the morning of the 11th the French outpost-line outside of Madrid had been held only by Reiset’s brigade of dragoons (13th and 18th regiments), about 700 sabres. It was these troops that D’Urban had discovered on the previous night at Las Rosas: at dawn he proceeded to drive them in, making sure that they would retire, as they had regularly done hitherto. His own force was much the same as that of the enemy, his three weak regiments (seven squadrons) amounting to a little over 700 men. But he had with him Macdonald’s horse artillery, and the French were gunless. Demonstrating against Reiset’s front with two regiments, D’Urban turned him with the third and two guns. The flank movement had its due effect, and the dragoons gave back, when shelled diagonally from a convenient slope. They retired as far as the village of Las Rosas, and made a stand there: but on the flanking movement being repeated, they again drew back, and passing a second village--Majalahonda--went out of sight, taking cover in woods in the direction of Mostoles and Boadilla. D’Urban was now within seven miles of Madrid, and thought it well to write to Wellington to ask whether he should endeavour to enter the city or not. The reply sent to him was that he was to go no farther than Aravaca--three miles outside the walls--till he should be supported; the head of the main column, headed by Ponsonby’s heavy dragoons, would be up by the evening.

Long before this answer reached him D’Urban was in terrible trouble. The manœuvring of the morning had taken up some four hours; it was about 10 when the French disappeared. While waiting for orders, the brigadier directed his regiments to quarter themselves in Majalahonda, water their horses, and cook their midday meal. After the pickets had been thrown out, all went quietly for five hours, and most of the men were enjoying a siesta at 3.30. They had now support close behind them, as the heavy German brigade, and the 1st Light Battalion of the K.G.L. had come up as far as Las Rosas, only three-quarters of a mile to their rear. The advance was to be resumed when the worst heat of the day should be over.

But a little before four o’clock masses of French cavalry were seen debouching from the woods in front of Boadilla. This was Treillard, who had come up from the rear with four fresh regiments (19th and 22nd Dragoons, Palombini’s Italian _Dragons de Napoléon_, and the 1st Westphalian Lancers[656]), and had picked up Reiset’s brigade on the way. The whole force was over 2,000 strong, and was advancing in three lines at a great pace, evidently prepared to attack without hesitation. D’Urban had barely time to form a line in front of Majalahonda, when the enemy were upon him.

[656] Treillard calls them only _les lanciers_ in his report. Dyneley in his narrative calls them Polish lancers, but they were really the Westphalian _Chevaux-légers-lanciers_ of the Army of the Centre.

It is certain that the wise policy would have been to make a running fight of it, and to fall back at once on the Germans at Las Rosas, for the Portuguese were outnumbered three to one. But D’Urban was a daring leader, honourably ambitious of distinction, and the excellent behaviour of his brigade at Salamanca had inspired him with an exaggerated confidence in their steadiness. He sent back messengers to hurry up the German dragoons, and took position in front of Majalahonda, throwing out one squadron in skirmishing line[657], deploying five more in line of battle (1st and 12th regiments), and keeping one in reserve on his left flank to cover four horse artillery guns there placed. Here also were placed a party of forty of the German Dragoons, who had been sent out on exploring duty, and joined the Portuguese in time for the fight.

[657] This was a squadron of the 11th, whose other squadron formed the reserve.

Treillard came on in three successive lines of brigades, each composed of six squadrons, Reiset’s dragoons (13th and 18th) forming the front line, the other dragoon brigade (19th and 22nd) the second, and the two foreign regiments the reserve. The clash came very quickly, before the British guns had time to fire more than three or four rounds. The Portuguese rode forward briskly enough till they were within a few yards of the enemy, when they checked, wavered, and went about, leaving their brigadier and their colonels, who were riding well in front, actually in the French ranks. D’Urban cut his way out--the Visconde de Barbaçena and Colonel Lobo were both severely wounded and taken prisoners. The broken line shivered in all directions, and went to the rear pursued by the French: some of the fugitives rode into and carried away the reserve squadron, which abandoned the guns on the left as they were limbering up. There was a wild chase for the mile that intervened between the battle spot in front of Majalahonda and the village of Las Rosas. In it three of the four horse artillery guns were captured--one by a wheel breaking, the other two by their drivers being cut down by the pursuing dragoons. Captain Dyneley, commanding the left section of the battery, and fourteen of his men were taken prisoners--mostly wounded. The small party of German dragoons, under an officer named Kuhls, who chanced to be present, made a desperate attempt to save the guns. ‘Oh, how those poor fellows behaved!’ wrote Dyneley, ‘they were not much more than twenty in number, but when they saw the scrape our guns were in, they formed up to support us, which they had no sooner done than down came at least 150 dragoons and lancers: the poor fellows fought like men, but of course they were soon overpowered, and every soul of them cut to pieces.’

The main body of the leading French brigade rode, without a check, up to the first houses of Las Rosas, where they found the German heavy brigade only just getting into order, so swift had the rout been. When D’Urban’s first alarm came to hand, the horses were all unsaddled, the men, some asleep, some occupied in grooming their mounts or leading them to water. The trumpets blew, but the squadrons were only just assembling, when in a confused mass and a cloud of dust flying Portuguese and pursuing French hurtled in among them. That no irreparable disaster took place was due to two causes--two captains[658], who had got a few of these men already together, gallantly charged the head of the French to gain time, and some of the light infantry opened a spattering fire upon them from the houses. Reiset called back his regiments to re-form them, and meanwhile the Germans came pouring out of the village and got into line anyhow, ‘some on barebacked horses, some with bare heads, others in forage-caps, many in their shirt-sleeves.’ By the time that the French were advancing again, all the four squadrons of the heavies were more or less in line, and D’Urban had rallied the greater part of his Portuguese on their left. The fight in front of Las Rosas was very fierce, though the Portuguese soon had enough of it and retired. But the Germans made a splendid resistance, and ended by beating back the front line of the enemy. Treillard then put in his second line, and under the charge of these fresh squadrons the dragoons of the Legion, still fighting obstinately, were pressed back to the entrance of the village: Colonel Jonquières, commanding the brigade in Bock’s absence, was taken prisoner with a few of his men. The salvation of the overmatched cavalry was that the light infantry battalion of the Legion had now lined the outskirts of the village, and opened such a hot fire that the enemy had to draw back.

[658] Reizenstein and Marshalk.

What Treillard would have done had he been left undisturbed it is impossible to say, but just at this moment Ponsonby’s cavalry brigade and the head of the infantry column of the 7th Division came in sight from the rear, hurrying up to support the vanguard. The French drew off, and retired in mass, with such haste that they did not even bring off the captured guns, which were found by the roadside not much damaged, though an attempt had been made to destroy their carriages.

In this fierce fight, which was so honourable to the Germans and so much the reverse to the Portuguese, the vanguard lost nearly 200 men. The heavy brigade had 1 officer and 13 men killed, 5 officers and 35 men wounded, 1 officer (Colonel Jonquières) and 6 men prisoners. The Portuguese naturally suffered much more--by their own fault, for it was in the rout that they were cut up. They had 3 officers and 30 men killed, 3 officers and 49 men wounded, and 1 officer[659] and 22 men missing. Macdonald’s unfortunate battery lost 6 killed, 6 wounded, and its second captain (Dyneley) and 14 men missing: most of the latter were more or less hurt. The K.G.L. light battalion had 7 wounded. The total casualty list, therefore, was 15 officers and 182 men. It is probable that the French did not suffer much less, for they had as many as 17 officers disabled, including Reiset, the brigadier who led the first line, and 11 more of the officers of his two regiments: the supporting corps lost only 5 officers wounded among the four of them [660]. But a loss of 17 officers must certainly imply that of at least 150 men: the Germans had used their broadswords most effectively. Treillard sought to diminish the effect of his loss by making the preposterous statement that he had killed 150 of the allies, wounded 500, and carried off 60 prisoners; he forgot also to mention that he left the three captured guns behind him.

[659] Colonel Lobo: the other colonel (the Visconde de Barbaçena) who was taken, had been so severely wounded that the French left him behind.

[660] Three in the 19th Dragoons, one in the 22nd, one in the Italian regiment. Oddly enough, of seventeen officers in the casualty list, only one (a _chef d’escadron_ of the 13th) was killed. The sabre disables, but does not usually slay outright.

After this affair Wellington made the memorandum: ‘the occurrences of the 22nd of July [Salamanca] had induced me to hope that the Portuguese dragoons would have conducted themselves better, or I should not have placed them at the outposts of the army. I shall not place them again in situations in which, by their misconduct, they can influence the safety of other troops[661].’ It is fair to D’Urban’s men, however, to remember that they were put into action against superior numbers, and with a knowledge that they themselves were unsupported, while the enemy had two lines of reserve behind him. To be broken under such circumstances was perhaps inevitable. But the second rout, in the vicinity of Las Rosas, was much more discreditable. Their brigadier, very reticent in his dispatch to Wellington, wrote in a private letter: ‘The same men who at Salamanca followed me into the French ranks like British dragoons, on this 11th of August at the first charge went just far enough to leave me in the midst of the enemy’s ranks. In the second, which, having got them rallied, I attempted, I could not get them within ten yards of the enemy-they left me alone, and vanished from before the helmets like leaves before the autumn wind[662].’

[661] _Dispatches_, ix. p. 354.

[662] There are very full narratives of Majalahonda to be got from D’Urban’s correspondence, Reiset’s memoirs, and the letters of Dyneley, who was lucky enough to escape a few days later and rejoin his troop. Schwertfeger’s _History of the German Legion_ gives the facts about the part taken by the K.G.L. Light Battalion, whose service Wellington ignored in his dispatch--wrongly stating that it was not engaged. Treillard’s dispatch is a fine piece of exaggeration, but useful as giving the official French view of the affair.

Treillard brought back to King Joseph the news that Wellington in person was certainly marching on Madrid with the greater part of his army. Indeed his prisoners had tried to scare him by saying that 8,000 horse were coming down on him, and otherwise exaggerating the numbers of the allies. The cavalry brigades fell back to form the rearguard of the King’s army, which moved on Valdemoro and Aranjuez, not toward Toledo, for certain information had come that none of Soult’s troops were anywhere near that ancient city. The convoy had been turned towards Ocaña, and the road to Valencia.

Wellington entered Madrid unopposed next day--vexed that his arrival should have been marred by the untoward business at Majalahonda, ‘a devil of an affair,’ as he called it in a private letter to Stapleton Cotton[663]. But the inhabitants of the Spanish capital took little heed of the mishap--the departure of the French was the only thing that mattered. Their enthusiasm was unbounded.

[663] _Dispatches_, ix. p. 351.

‘I never witnessed,’ wrote an intelligent observer in the ranks[664], ‘such a scene before. For a distance of five miles from the gates the road was crowded with the people who had come out to meet us, each bringing something--laurel boughs, flowers, bread, wine, grapes, lemonade, sweetmeats, &c. The road was like a moving forest from the multitude who carried palms, which they strewed in the way for us to march over. Young ladies presented us with laurel, and even fixed it in our caps: others handed us sweetmeats and fruit. Gentlemen had hired porters to bring out wine, which they handed to us as we passed by: every individual strove to outvie each other in good nature. On the other hand the feelings of each British soldier were wound up to the highest pitch--Wellington himself rode at the head of our regiment, we were flushed with victory, and a defeated enemy was flying in our front: proud of the honour paid us by the people, we entered Madrid, the air rent with cries of “Long live Wellington, Long live the English.” The crowd and shouts and ringing of bells was beyond description. The men on the flanks were involuntarily dragged out of their subdivisions into houses, and treated with the best that could be found for them. It was with difficulty that Lord Wellington could keep his seat on horseback-every one was pressing round him.’ They kissed his hands, his sword, even his horse and the ground he had passed over. It would have been a moment of intoxicating exultation to most men: but Wellington looked beyond the laurels and the shouting. ‘It is impossible to describe the joy of the inhabitants on our arrival:’ he wrote, in his rather ponderous style, ‘I hope that the prevalence of the same sentiment of detestation of the French yoke which first induced them to set the example of resistance to the usurper, will again induce them to make exertions in the cause of their country, which, being more wisely directed, will be more efficacious than those they formerly made[665].’ But hope is not the same as expectation.

[664] Journal of Wheeler of the 51st, p. 27.

[665] To Lord Bathurst, August 13. _Dispatches_, ix. 355.

That evening the whole city was illuminated, and the streets were so full, till long after midnight, of crowds tumultuously joyful, that some cautious officers feared that the French garrison of the Retiro might sally out to make mischief in the confusion. Lafon-Blaniac, however, kept quiet--he was already quailing over two discoveries--the one that his water supply was very short, the other that the inner _enceinte_ of the works was so full of miscellaneous combustible stuff, shot in at the last moment, that nothing was more probable than a general conflagration if he were to be bombarded. It had also begun to strike him that his outer line of defences was very weak, and his second one very constricted for the amount of men and material that he had in charge. The larger _enceinte_, indeed, only consisted, for the greater part of its extent, of the loopholed wall of the Retiro Park, with some _flèches_ placed in good flanking positions. On the side facing the Prado were buildings--the Retiro Palace and the Museum, which had been barricaded and made tenable: they formed the strongest section of the exterior line. The inner _enceinte_ was a more formidable affair--with ten bastioned fronts on the scale of a powerful field-work. The star-fort, which constituted the final refuge for the garrison, was built around the solid building that had once been the royal porcelain manufactory (where the celebrated Buen Retiro china was made): it had a ditch twelve feet deep and twenty-four wide, and was formidably palisaded.

Wellington reconnoitred the works on the 13th, and directed that the outer line should be stormed that night. Three hundred men of the 3rd Division were told off to break into the Park wall on the north, near the Bull-Ring: 300 more from the 51st and 68th regiments of the 7th Division were to attack the south-west angle of the _enceinte_, which was formed by the wall of the Botanical Garden. Both assaults were completely successful--the walls were so flimsy that they were easily hewn through with picks, or beaten in with beams used as battering-rams, and the 68th found and broke open a postern. The resistance was very weak--only ten of the storming-parties were killed or wounded, and the enemy retired almost at once into his second line, abandoning the Palace and other fortified buildings.

Lafon-Blaniac was now in a deplorable position, for there was only one well of moderate capacity within the second _enceinte_ to serve the whole garrison. He had lost those in the Palace at the foot of the hill: and the old porcelain manufactory, within the star-fort, had been wont to be supplied by a little aqueduct, which had of course been cut by the British. It was clear that a lack of water would soon be a serious problem: but a superfluity of fire was a still more probable one--the garrison was crowded up among buildings and stores, and the large factory inside the star-fort was specially dangerous--a very few shells would suffice to kindle it and to smoke out or smother its defenders.

On the morning of the 14th Lafon-Blaniac sent out a flag of truce, ostensibly to deliver a threat to fire upon the town if he were pressed, really to see if he could get tolerable terms, before the British had begun to batter him, for he could note preparations to bring up heavy guns being made. Wellington saw the _parlementaire_ in person, and a conclusion was arrived at in a very few minutes. Tolerable conditions of surrender were granted--the garrison to march out with honours of war, the officers to keep their swords, horses, and baggage, the men their knapsacks unsearched. All arms and stores were to be handed over intact. At four o’clock the French marched out, ‘most of them drunk, and affecting a great rage against the governor for surrendering so tamely.’ Yet it is clear that he could not have held out for more than a day or two, with great loss of life and no strategical profit, since there was absolutely no chance of the place being relieved. The prisoners were sent off under escort to Lisbon. On the way they were joined by the garrison of Guadalajara, which had surrendered with equal facility to the Empecinado--this was a force of _Juramentados_ and foreigners--regiments Royal-Étranger and Royal-Irlandais, about 900 strong, under a General de Prieux, of the Spanish not the French service. They feared for their necks if they resisted the guerrilleros, and made practically no resistance.

The stores in the Retiro proved most useful--nearly every regiment at Madrid was supplied with new shoes from them: the stock of blue French regimental coats was issued to the artillery and light dragoons, to be cut up into jackets; Joseph’s _Juramentado_ uniforms served to reclothe Carlos de España’s and Julian Sanchez’s men. The most unexpected find in the fort was the eagles of the 51st Line and 12th Léger, which had somehow got into the Retiro, though the bulk of those corps were with Soult’s army, and only detachments of them were at Madrid. They were sent to the Prince Regent, and now hang in the chapel of Chelsea Hospital[666]. The garrison was found to consist of 4 _chefs de bataillon_, 22 captains, 42 other officers, and 1,982 men--the latter including some 200 non-military employés. In addition, 6 officers and 429 rank and file had been surrendered in the hospital, which was outside the Retiro, before the attack on the place began[667].

[666] The second eagle is in error described in Wellington’s dispatch as that of the 13th--which was in Russia at the time.

[667] For the ‘siege’ of the Retiro see (besides the official sources) Burgoyne’s _Diary_, i. pp. 208-9, and the narratives of Green of the 68th and Wheeler of the 51st. For the use of the French uniforms see the _Dickson Papers_, ed. Major Leslie, ii. pp. 738-9.

Here we must leave Wellington for a space, triumphant in the Spanish capital, and much worried by the polite and effusive attentions of the authorities and inhabitants, who lavished on him and his officers banquets, balls, and bull-fights for many days, in spite of the penury which had been prevailing for years in the half-ruined city. Never was an army better treated--wine could be had for the asking, and at last the men had to be confined to their quarters for many hours a day, lest they should be killed by kindness. The Constitution was proclaimed in state, a patriotic municipality elected, and Carlos de España was made governor. He signalized his appointment by arresting a good many _Afrancesados_ and garotting with much ceremonial the priest Diego Lopez, who had been one of King Joseph’s most noted spies.[668]

[668] Grattan’s _With the Connaught Rangers_, p. 275.

NOTE.--For the garrison of the Retiro I can find no regular details; Wellington gives only totals of the surrendered force. But a paper of Jourdan’s (at Paris), though dated so far back as July 17th, speaks of the Madrid garrison as containing 230 men of the 3/12th Léger, 250 of the 3/45th, and a whole _bataillon de marche_ more of Soult’s army, 750 strong, together with 200 _hommes isolés_, and a considerable number of dismounted cavalry. I suspect that these formed the Retiro garrison in August as well as in July. The other troops noted as left at Madrid on July 18th--a battalion of Nassau, the dépôts of the Royal Guard, 28th and 75th, and three Spanish battalions, were certainly _not_ in the surrender, and had marched off on August 10th with the King. But a good many scores of the 50th, belonging to Marmont’s army, were among the prisoners. I suspect that these were the garrison of Avila, which retired on Madrid on getting the news of the battle of Salamanca.

SECTION XXXIII: