Memoir of Louis Trezevant Wigfall part 5

Louis Trezevant Wigfall

Part 5

Peach-tree Creek offered every advantage which deep rivers and mountain-passes could afford. It was impassable for an army, except at a few points. Johnston expected to fall upon the heads of the enemy's columns as they issued from these crossings, and crush them before they could form. From General Hood's report of his own operations, it seems they were allowed time not only to form, but intrench before they were attacked.

What is called General Johnston's defensive policy is severely criticised. Fewer men are lost by fighting than by retreating, etc.

General Hood does not seem to consider sufficiently the worth of an army, nor the consequences which follow the destruction of one. Napoleon said that the very first duty which a general owed to his country was to preserve his army. After the battles of Ocana and Alba de Tormes, in which Ariazaga lost his army, he was defended upon the ground that the campaign was undertaken by the directions of his government. Napier repudiates such defense. He says: "Ariazaga obeyed the orders of his government! No general is bound to obey orders (at least without remonstrance) which involves the safety of his army; so that he should sacrifice every thing but victory, and many great commanders have sacrificed even victory rather than appear to undervalue this vital principle. . . .

"Sir Arthur Wellesley absolutely refused to coöperate in this short and violent campaign. He remained a quiet spectator of events at the most critical period of the war;
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and yet, on paper, the Spanish project promised well. . . . This man, so cautious, so conscious of the enemy's superiority, was laying the foundation of measures that finally carried him triumphant through the Peninsular War. False, then, are the opinions of those who, asserting that Napoleon might have been driven over the Ebro in 1808-'9, blame Sir John Moore's conduct. Such reasons would as certainly have charged the ruin of Spain on Sir Arthur Wellesley, if, at this period, the chances of war had sent him to his grave. But in all times the wise and brave man's toil has been the sport of fools."

The complaint against General Johnston cannot be that he would not fight, for he fought almost every day, killing and wounding forty-five thousand of the enemy, and losing ten thousand himself. It is that he did not stake the cause of his country on a single cast of the dice -- that he would not risk all on the issue of a single battle. When urged by the Portuguese regency to a like course in 1810, Lord Wellington replied: "I have little doubt of final success, but I have fought a sufficient number of battles to know that the result of any is not certain, even with the best arrangements." He persisted in his defensive policy, and saved Portugal from subjugation. When he had determined to abandon Spain and retreat through Portugal to Lisbon, he was urged to relieve the garrison of Ciudad Rodrigo, containing five thousand men. Napier says: "This was a trying moment. He had in a manner pledged himself, his army was close at hand, the garrison brave and distressed, and the governor honorably fulfilled his part. To permit such a place to fall without a stroke would be a grievous disaster, and a more grievous dishonor to the British arms. The troops desired the enterprise; the Spaniards demanded it as a proof of good faith; the Portuguese, to keep the war away from their own country; finally, policy seemed to call for this effort, lest the world might deem the promised defense of Portugal a heartless and hollow boast. Lord Wellington refused to venture even a brigade, and thus proved himself a great commander, and of a steadfast mind. It
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was not a single campaign, but a terrible war that he had undertaken. . . . What would even a momentary success have availed? Five thousand men brought off from Ciudad Rodrigo would have ill supplied the ten or twelve thousand men lost in the battle, and the temporary relief of the fortress would have been a poor compensation for the loss of Portugal. . . . Massena, sagacious and well understanding his business, only desired that the attempt should be made. He held back his troops, appeared careless, and, in his proclamations, taunted the English general that he was afraid; that the sails were flapping on the ships prepared to carry him away; that he was a man who, insensible to military honor, permitted his ally's towns to fall without risking a shot to save them, or to redeem his plighted word. But all this subtlety failed. Lord Wellington was unmoved, and abided his own time. `If thou art a great general, Marius, come down and fight.' `If thou art a great general, Silo, make me come down and fight!'"