The Peninsular War Read online

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  For Martin Blinkhorn, who first put me on the road, and Pilar Bravo Lledó, without whom I would still be on it.

  Preface

  At first sight a new history of the Peninsular War – the great struggle that convulsed the Iberian Peninsula between 1808 and 1814 following its invasion by Napoleon Bonaparte – may appear superfluous. After all, in Britain, France, Portugal and Spain alike, a series of imposing histories of the war have been published that appear to leave little room for anything other than derivative pot-boilers. In fact a fresh work is sorely needed. Part of the problem is that this great weight of historiography now shows its age very badly. As ‘old’ history written very much in terms of battles, campaigns and great men, it is blind to the fresh currents of historical work that for at least the last fifty years have been revolutionising our understanding of the past. At the same time, it is disfigured by a combination of national myth, cultural prejudice and political partisanry. In Britain, for example, the Duke of Wellington so dominates the scene that many English-language histories of the Peninsular War turn out to be mere recitations of his victories. In France we find a deep desire to explain the conflict in terms of the Napoleonic legend. And in Spain and Portugal a succession of liberals, neo-absolutists, authoritarian nationalists and Marxists have all sought to hijack the war for their own purposes.

  Viewed as a subject in its own right, then, the Peninsular War deserves fresh consideration. But the conflict cannot just be viewed in this fashion. A vital episode in the history of modern Spain and Portugal, it was also a part of the wider Napoleonic Wars. If this aspect of the question is considered, a fresh history of the struggle can be seen to be still more justified. With the publication of a succession of new works that have redefined our understanding of Napoleon and his wars, there is clearly room for a reevaluation of the part played by the Peninsular War. Why, for example, did the emperor intervene in Spain and Portugal? Why was he defeated there? And, above all, to what extent did the Iberian struggle contribute to the formation of the great coalition that overthrew Napoleon in 1814? As for Spain and Portugal, meanwhile, a serious gap remains in their historiography. Whilst a massive growth of interest in local history has greatly enriched our understanding of such subjects as conscription, la guerrilla, the nature of political authority and the impact of French reform, little of this material has been synthesised even for the benefit of Iberian audiences, let alone made available to readers lacking the benefits of Spanish and Portuguese. Still worse, perhaps, the few general works that exist on the subject are now increasingly dated, being dominated by a fascination with concepts whose validity is at the very least open to serious question. If the idea of 1789 as a bourgeois revolution has been comprehensively demolished, for example, is it really possible to go on making use of the same language when it comes to 1808?

  Last but not least, a review of the historiography of the Peninsular War suggests that there is a strong need to pull military and political treatments of the subject together. If historians such as Oman were woefully ignorant of the political context of battle, so historians such as Artola have been just as ignorant of the military context of reform. War and politics go hand in hand. Britain’s predominance, for example, cannot be understood without a discussion of the nature of the uprising of 1808, the response of the Iberian peoples to the war against Napoleon, and the social and economic background against which the struggle took place. Yet, by the same token, neither the triumph of the Spanish liberals, nor the restoration of Spanish absolutism, nor the place of the Peninsular War in the history of Iberia as a whole, can be understood without a grasp of the conflict’s battles and campaigns, or, more broadly, the military experience which they afforded. Self-evident as all this is, the failure of generations of historians to blend the military with the civil may seem somewhat surprising. In fact, it was all but inevitable. Deeply hostile to, and, indeed, prejudiced against, military history, the academic community has on the whole surrendered its study to writers who lack the sources, languages, institutional support and intellectual formation necessary to see beyond the smoke and dust of battle. In recent years things have begun to change – a succession of academics have, for example, transformed our knowledge of ‘people’s war’ in France – but with regard to Spain and Portugal the process has as yet hardly begun. Hence the need for a new general history. Whether this will be any more successful than its predecessors is, however, another matter.

  * * *

  A book that has been some twenty years in the making incurs far more debts of gratitude than any author can ever repay, not least to the various sources of research funding – in this case, the British Academy, the Leverhulme Trust, the University of Southampton and the University of Liverpool – that have made it possible. At the head of the list of people, perhaps, comes Simon Winder and Ellah Allfrey at Penguin, without whom it would not have seen the light of day, and Martin Blinkhorn at the University of Lancaster, who first pointed me in the direction of the Peninsular War. Great encouragement, too, came from Christopher Allmand, whose years as my Head of Department at the University of Liverpool were marked by much patience and sympathy. The staff of all the libraries and archives at which I have worked have without exception been kindness and helpfulness themselves, but in this context I should particularly like to thank Christopher Woolgar, Karen Robson, Sue Donnelly and Mary Cockerill at the University of Southampton; Ian Jackson at the University of Liverpool; Nieves Sánchez Hidalgo, Estrella Valentín-Fernández Fernández, Inmaculada Martín Múñoz, Amalia Jiménez Morales, Ana Sanz Robles, Jesus Rodríguez Izquierdo, Maribel Baenas Pérez, Paqui Mateo Macias, and Yolanda Ruiz Estebán at the Biblioteca Nacional; and, above all, the gracious Pilar Bravo Lledó of the Archivo Histórico Nacional, whose matchless generosity at a moment of total technological failure not only far surpassed the call of duty, but stands as the very acme of the warmth that I have experienced at the hands of so many people in Spain. Others whom I should like to remember in this context include Leopoldo Stampa of the Ministerio de Asuntos Exteriores, Marta Requena, Concha Bocos, Rafael Agasagasti, William and Sonia Chislett, Emilio de Castro, Dolores Schilling, Jo Klepka, Enrique Mardones, Fernando Fanjul, Antonia Rodríguez, Jesus Maroto, José María Espinosa de los Monteros, Santiago Nistal and Maribel Piqueras. Also worthy of note here are my fellow researchers, Azucena Pédraz Marcos, Nuria Carmena Jiménez, Leonor Hernández Enviz, Grahame Harrison, Susan Lord, Mari-Cruz de Carlos (to whom I am indebted not just for much friendship and hospitality, but for her assistance with the illustrations) and Satoko Nakajima, whose company has provided me with insight and relaxation alike. And, in the publishing world, I owe many thanks to Lionel Leventhal of Greenhill Books, not just for his great personal generosity, but also for his sterling efforts to bring the memoir literature of the Napoleonic Age to the attention of a wider public.

  Turning now to my fellow labourers in the Napoleonic vin
eyard, as so often before, I must first pay tribute to my dear friend and esteemed colleague, Rory Muir, who, despite years of exposure to my manuscripts, has once again lavished every possible care and attention upon the current work, whilst at the same time enlightening me on many aspects of the subject with which I am less familiar than I should be. Amongst those who have also at various times been kind enough to provide me with encouragement and good counsel have been Neville Thompson, Alan Forrest, Jeremy Black and Michael Broers, whilst from Don Horward of Florida State University I have received, in addition, much hospitality in the course of numerous visits to the Consortium on Revolutionary Europe and the Strozier Library at Tallahassee. Two young historians in Spain who have proved of great assistance to me are Arsenio García Fuertes and Jorge Sánchez Fernández, but much kindness has also been shown me by Vittorio Scotti-Douglas, Paddy Griffith, John Tone, Alicia Laspra Rodríguez, Estebán Canales, Lluis Roura, Antonio Moliner Prada, Franciso Carantoña Alvarez, Antonio Carrasco Alvarez and Herminio Lafoz Rabaza. From them all I have learned a great deal, whilst it is a source of considerable regret to me that considerations of space have made it impossible to pay adequate tribute not only to their work, but also to that of the many other scholars whose writings have enriched this study. Needless to say, however, such errors as may have crept into its pages are the fault of no one but the author (at all events they most certainly are not the fault of the copy-editor, Sue Dickinson, who has been the very model of efficiency, patience and dedication).

  Good to me though all my friends in the Napoleonic field have been, it is to my family that my debts are greatest. To my mother and my father, though he is now dead, I still owe more than I can say (including, not least, the copy of Oman presented me as a graduation gift!). But, above all, my beloved wife, Alison, remains the great woman behind this not very great man, and Andrew, Helen, Maria-Isabel, and Bernadette, whose arrival enlivened the last chapters of this work, are the dearest, best and most loving of children. To you all, un abrazo.

  Liverpool, 23 March 2001.

  NOTE ON THE TEXT

  All translations of Spanish and French sources quoted in the text are the author’s own.

  List of Maps

  Map 1. The Iberian Peninsula

  Map 2. The Battle of Medina de Rio Seco, 14 July 1808

  Map 3. The Battle of Bailén, 19 July 1808

  Map 4. The Battle of Vimeiro, 21 August 1808

  Map 5. The Battle of Tudela, 23 November 1808

  Map 6. The Battle of Uclés, 13 February 1809

  Map 7. The Battle of La Coruña, 16 July 1809

  Map 8. The Battle of Medellín, 29 March 1809

  Map 9. The Battle of Talavera, 28 July 1809

  Map 10. The Battle of Almonacid de Toledo, 13 August 1809

  Map 11. The Battle of Ocaña, 19 November 1809

  Map 12. The Battle of Buçaco, 27 September 1810

  Map 13. The Battle of Fuentes de Oñoro, 3 May 1811

  Map 14. The Battle of Albuera, 16 May 1811

  Map 15. The Battle of Saguntum, 25 October 1811

  Map 16. The Battle of Valencia, 26 December 1811

  Map 17. Ciudad Rodrigo

  Map 18. Badajoz

  Map 19. The Battle of Salamanca, 22 July 1812

  Map 20. The Battle of Vitoria, 21 June 1813

  Map 21. The Battle of Sorauren, 28 July 1813

  Map 22. The Siege of San Sebastián, 11 July–8 September 1813

  1

  Lisbon

  THE ORIGINS OF THE PENINSULAR WAR

  Weary, ragged and dishevelled, the French troops crested the rise. Gleaming in the distance, they could see the broad waters of the River Tagus, with, beside them, the towers of Lisbon. To reach this spot near the town of Sacavem, they had endured weeks of forced marching in torrential rain across some of the roughest country in the Iberian Peninsula. Indeed, thousands of their comrades had fallen by the wayside, all that was left being a handful of picked grenadiers. Still worse, it was all for nothing. Another European capital was on the point of falling to Napoleon, true, but the chief prize was vanishing before the invaders’ very eyes, the Tagus being filled with the sails of a large convoy of shipping heading for the open sea. Going with them were the Portuguese royal family, the Portuguese navy, the contents of the treasury, and thousands of the country’s leading citizens. Napoleon, in short, had been foiled.

  But why had the emperor intervened in Iberia? Admirers of the emperor have on the whole sought to explain his actions in the context of either political idealism (the desire to extend the benefits of the French Revolution), family loyalty (the need to find thrones for Napoleon’s numerous brothers and sisters) or strategic necessity (the strategic demands of a war that was none of his own making). For their opponents, meanwhile, the answer lies rather in dreams of conquest, hatred of the Bourbons, dissatisfaction with Spain as an ally, and the character of the emperor himself. Whichever view is taken, there is general agreement that in the summer of 1807 he was at the zenith of his power. Master of Holland, Switzerland, northern Italy and a much expanded France, in the autumn of 1805 he had been confronted by Britain, Russia, Austria, Sweden and Naples. In a matter of months, however, crushing victories at Ulm and Austerlitz (Slavkov) had produced the surrender of Austria; the cession of Venetia to the French-controlled Kingdom of Italy, of the Tyrol and Vorarlberg to Bavaria, and of the Dalmatian littoral to France; the occupation of Naples; the evacuation of all British and Russian forces from the central European theatre; and the conversion of Prussia into a de facto French ally. Russia and Britain, indeed, had themselves considered peace, only for their overtures to founder on Napoleon’s ambition, the emperor’s conduct in fact becoming so immoderate that within a year Prussia had been forced to go to war to defend her interests. Heavily defeated at Jena and Auerstädt on 14 October 1806, the Prussian armies had then for the most part surrendered without a fight. Having in the meantime occupied Berlin and inaugurated the Continental Blockade – his great master-plan for forcing the British out of the war by economic means – the emperor went on to invade Poland and East Prussia. Repulsed in a bloody draw at Eylau (Bagrationovsk) in early February 1807, on 14 June he secured his revenge, shattering the main Russian army at Friedland (Pravdinsk) and forcing Alexander I to sue for peace.

  Negotiated during the famous meeting between Napoleon and Alexander at Tilsit (Sovetsk), the treaties that followed brought with them both a major reorganisation of Eastern Europe and a great increase in Napoleon’s power. Already master of Germany, whose constituent states he had reorganised and united in the Confederation of the Rhine, the emperor turned his attention to Poland, whilst at the same time settling scores with Prussia. Thus, the latter was stripped of all her Polish territories, the bulk of these lands being formed into a new vassal state known as the Grand Duchy of Warsaw. As for her western lands, these became the basis of the Grand Duchy of Berg and the Kingdom of Westphalia, of which the former was given to Joachim Murat, who was married to Napoleon’s younger sister, Caroline, and the latter to his younger brother, Jerome. In the later Treaty of Berlin, meanwhile, the Prussians were also compelled to pay a heavy indemnity and restrict their army to 42,000 men.

  With Prussia humbled and Germans and Poles alike firmly incorporated in the Napoleonic system, there yet remained Russia. Unusually for him, Napoleon had in fact treated her with great magnanimity at Tilsit, not only employing his considerable personal charm to captivate the somewhat naive Alexander I, but sparing him the indignity of an indemnity and tossing him a slice of Prussian Poland. Beneath the surface, however, Russia was simply being snared as an instrument of the emperor’s purposes. Thus, easily persuaded to join the Continental Blockade – in Russia as elsewhere, resentment of Britain was rife – Alexander also agreed to put pressure on Sweden, Denmark and Austria to do the same, to go to war against Britain, recognise the Napoleonic settlement in the rest of Europe, allow the French to resume control of the much-disputed Ionian Islands, and general
ly give the emperor carte blanche.

  Napoleon, then, was in a commanding position. Russia was friendly, Prussia shattered, and Austria temporarily neutralised. Thrones or other suitable positions had been found for most of the emperor’s brothers and sisters as well as a variety of other figures connected with the régime – Joseph was King of Naples, Louis, King of Holland; Jerome, King of Westphalia; Murat and Caroline, Duke and Duchess of Berg; Elise, Duchess of Parma; Eugene de Beauharnais, Viceroy of Italy; and Marshal Berthier, Prince of Neufchâtel – so that familial duty could be said to have been well satisfied. By the same means, meanwhile, Napoleon had established a network of ‘family courts’ that could legitimise the Bonaparte dynasty, attract the loyalty of the aristocracy, and promote French culture. Ruling at his whim as they did, Napoleon’s satellite rulers could also be expected to remain loyal to his rule, as could those princes who had survived the emperor’s earlier reorganisation of Germany.

  Setting aside Spain – notionally a close ally, but one that in practice had increasingly to be kept under observation – the one disappointing feature of the situation was the continuing failure to defeat Britain. However, supreme at sea though she was, the latter’s position was far from unassailable. Indeed, her strategic difficulties were enormous. In the first place, her only allies were Sweden and Sicily (whither the King and Queen of Naples had fled following the occupation of their mainland domains in 1806), neither of whom possessed the capacity to defend itself unaided, let alone conduct the large-scale military campaigns that Britain needed from coalition partners. On the contrary, both needed defending, when troops were exactly what the British were short of. Whilst the number of men they had under arms had soared, far too many of them were serving in forces that could not be required to serve abroad. Still worse, neither Britain nor her colonies could be entirely stripped of regular troops. Though the British strove to employ local auxiliaries and foreign manpower, the result was that they did not have sufficient men to do very much themselves. Nor was raising a respectable field army the only problem: setting aside the dangers of storm and shipwreck, transporting even the most modest expeditionary force required large numbers of specialised ships, whilst simply getting the forces involved on and off ship was a most complex undertaking.