Jones followed this up a few days later saying he had spoken to Admiral Berkeley who stated that Lieutenant Leith had not expressed any concerns to him. Jones then wrote to Lieutenant Leith ‘offering all the means of the [Engineer] Department to perfect the stations’.45
In the final few weeks before the Lines were occupied, the whole plan for Wellington’s vital communications was thrown in jeopardy in circumstances that could only be described as farcical today. An argument broke out about proving additional rations for the sailors manning the telegraphs. When the Navy were informed that Wellington could not authorise this, they threatened to recall the sailors to their ships. Wellington, who must have had more urgent business, was forced into writing a constant stream of letters on the subject. When on 7 September 1810 the Royal Navy reported they were planning to withdraw the sailors if the army would not provide rations, Wellington was forced to suggest that the signalling should revert to using the simpler, but less effective, Portuguese telegraph which could be operated by ‘old seamen at Lisbon’. In the days immediately before the arrival of the Allied troops in the Lines, Wellington was still asking ‘are new telegraphs complete?’ and saying ‘I am very anxious about our signal posts’. One can only assume that the situation was remedied to Wellington’s satisfaction as they were not mentioned again.46
Was it a Secret – or Was it Not?
The question of how secret the building of the Lines was is an interesting one. It is easy to find many examples of people who did know, but it seems puzzling that others did not appear to. The engineer George Ross commented on 28 January 1810 that guards were stopping inquisitive people approaching the works. Interestingly, Ross also said that when he mentioned the works in his previous letters ‘he was at liberty to do so … but could not repeat now being one of the confidential agents’. As he was writing almost to family, it is clear that they had been told to keep quiet. This did not last long!
In Portugal, steps were taken to stop inquisitive people gaining access to critical places. Wellington showed his continual concern about having a secure place for embarkation by issuing instructions about the works at St Julian: ‘[You] will allow no-one into or inspect them excepting officers of engineers … or persons having orders in writing from Marshal Beresford or me.’47
In the Allied army there clearly was some knowledge of the Lines. As early as 23 October 1809, Ensign Aitchison reported home that Wellington had been reconnoitring the area around Lisbon, and it is said that the packet had been delayed so that he could send home his opinion on defending the city,48 and Captain Duffy of the 43rd wrote about the existence of the Lines when he passed through the area in April 1810.49
Amongst the Ordnance officers, that is the Artillery and the Engineers, there was clearly a better understanding. Alexander Dickson first mentions the lines in his diary on 16 July 1810, but he said the Engineers had been working on them for some time so we can assume that Dickson had also known about them for some time before that. Dickson was not near Lisbon during this whole period. John Burgoyne noted in his diary on 22 November 1809 that he had ‘Heard from Mulcaster at Torres Vedras. The engineers are throwing up field works at that place and Sobral.’ Burgoyne noted in a different letter that he did not know the detail of the works due to the secrecy surrounding them. Mulcaster had said ‘you will not mention this to anyone, all being a most profound secret’.50
George Ross, writing home to Dalrymple on 25 April 1810, said:
I have now my hands full having commenced twenty-three redoubts … Our line of redoubts commences in front of Ericeira a few miles – and continues … to the Tagus … In front of this short position Torres Vedras and Sobral have been made as strong … field works … so as to put them out of the chance of being stormed without being breached.51
Hew Dalrymple was in the UK at this time and it is difficult to believe that this sort of information will not have been discussed with his peers. Similarly John Squire was writing home regularly to Henry Bunbury who was Under Secretary of State for War.
There is a very noticeable lack of mention of the Lines in Wellington’s dispatches. Was he deliberately not saying much to the government because he felt that some of the leaks of confidential information appearing in the newspapers were coming from government sources? There is no real discussion in Wellington’s dispatches about the detail of the Lines. Maybe Liverpool was concerned about the security of the British force because he did not know about the lines. It is interesting to note that immediately after Wellington’s visit to Lisbon in October 1809, when he ordered the start of work on the lines, his correspondence on the subject is quite vague unless absolutely necessary. Writing to Castlereagh on 20 October, he said: ‘I came here [Lisbon] a few days ago in order to be better enabled to form a judgement on the points referred to in your Lordships dispatch on 14 September.’
Writing to the Marquis Wellesley on 25 October 1809 and Lord Burghersh three days later, he refers to ‘business’ in Lisbon but makes no comment on the nature of the business. However, he goes into some detail in a letter to Admiral Berkeley the next day, when asking him to advise on the best embarkation point. It is surprising that Wellington, writing to the Earl of Liverpool on 14 November 1809, which is about the first opportunity after his visit to Lisbon, makes no mention of ordering construction of the Lines and just makes a general reference to being able to ‘successfully resist’ a French attack. Bearing in mind that Wellington was also writing to Liverpool at the same time complaining about the publication of confidential information in the British press, it is maybe understandable why he was being economical with the details.
I find the most surprising comment on the Lines is in the January 1811 edition of the Royal Military Chronicle.52 It lists the number of forts and guns present in the Lines. This seems like far too early to be making such information publicly available! Masséna was still in front of the Lines at this time. It is also interesting to note that the numbers of redoubts, men and guns mentioned in the account of Masséna’s ADC, Pelet, match exactly those given in the Royal Military Chronicle, but do not match any other report I have seen.
What I am sure of is that although there were many on the Allied side who did know about the Lines, the French did not. They had been given some warning but did not believe that the defences would be able to stop them. Pelet tried hard to justify the failure of the French to be aware of the lines, saying;
The cruel ravages carried out by the enemy reinforced our ignorance [of the existence of the Lines], for it seemed they would not have abused a country they wanted to save. One must never lose sight of this central idea, for otherwise we could be accused, with reason, of a lack of foresight, and even stupidity.53
Stupidity is too strong, but I think the French were guilty of arrogance, ignoring the information they were receiving. They did not consider that Wellington was eventually going to stand, but at a place of his choosing, like he did at Bussaco.
What did the Engineers Think of the Lines?
Over a period of more than a year many engineers were involved in the construction of the Lines and the surveying and planning work that preceded construction. Their private letters often show their true feelings about the work they were involved in. What is surprising is their lack of understanding and confidence in the defences they were building.
John Squire, writing on 27 May 1810 to the Undersecretary of State for War Henry Bunbury, said:
I cannot however understand our defensive operations in the interior of the country, we seem to entirely abandon the defence of the frontier … we find all our strength applied to fortifying a line, which surely neither ought nor can be defended … I feel persuaded that this extraordinary line will never be defended; and … expose us to the ridicule of both our friends and enemies.54
George Ross wrote to Hew Dalrymple in a similar vein on 25 May 1810:
If they [the forts] should ever be named as a sin we have to answer for, I hope the military world will be kind enough to consider that we make them but do not invent them. If the twenty-seven redoubts in my neighbourhood were upon wheels and could travel quick as thought – they might by a fortunate application of them prevent a French column penetrating with impunity.55
and again on 20 June 1810:
Your friend Colonel Murray seems to like to keep us useless gentleman as far from the army as possible. The armies are contending on a frontier where certainly fortresses have some influence. Twenty of us are kept here making useless works and one Captain [Burgoyne] is with the army fortifying alone a fort which may perhaps be disputed.
Burgoyne commented in a letter to Pasley on 26 March 1810 that he did not think Wellington could hold the Lines, although he did admit that he did not know much about them because of the secrecy. He surmised that Wellington was not confident about the strength of the defences due to him demanding sufficient transports to carry off the army. Burgoyne cynically suggested that Wellington’s reason was – I will show them I can do anything Sir John Moore could, i.e. fight a battle before withdrawing by sea.
As the campaign progressed and the size of Masséna’s army fell in the imagination of the British officers, there was a growing confidence that perhaps the French could be stopped short of the British transports. In a more positive mood, Squire wrote to Henry Bunbury on 10 October 1810:
When I told you in one of the letters written soon after my arrival in Portugal that the lines in front of Lisbon neither could nor ought to be defended I calculated that the enemy would not have committed the unpardonable error of invading this country with an army inferior in numbers to those who defend it.56
Even after the Allied troops had entered the Lines there was no praise for the Lines or Wellington’s strategy, only criticism of the French.
Was Masséna Starved Out?
An essential part of Wellington’s strategy was the ‘scorched earth’ policy that would lead to the rapid starvation of the advancing French army. Despite his best efforts, several proclamations and threats of punishment for people who did not destroy usable goods, there is no doubt that there were still substantial supplies available when the French arrived in front of the Lines. Schaumann records in his diary that he was often sent out with foraging parties to find and remove stores ‘hidden’ by the Portuguese, using the same techniques that the French were well practised in. The Allied cavalry were also engaged in disrupting French foraging. The abandoned mills, which were supposed to have been completely disabled, were in many cases quickly back in action again. Whilst Wellington was very unhappy that the Portuguese civilians had not followed exactly their instructions to destroy everything of value, it is not surprising that they did not. They were being asked to destroy everything they owned with no promises that they would receive any help to replace their possessions. Many Portuguese civilians starved to death on the streets of their capital city during that terrible winter.
There were a number of engineer officers who commented on the supply situation whilst Masséna was in front of the Lines. Soon after the French arrived, Burgoyne wrote:
The country they are now occupying is a very fertile one and the harvest was got in entirely when they arrived. No measures were taken for driving the country … Even at Villa Franca a town … only one league in front of our line, a very large quantity of grain was left. Therefore all things considered the idea of starving the enemy out of their ground is out of the question.57
A few days later, on 6 November 1810, John Squire wrote to Bunbury:
Do not my dear friend believe that the enemy are in want of provisions. As they arrived just at the conclusion of the harvest I believe they are most amply supplied … their granaries were left full of corn and their cellars filled with the wine of the recent vintage. Large herds of cattle also remained for the enemy and while lately on the opposite side, on the left bank of the Tagus I saw an abundance of stacks of straw, Indian Corn etc. untouched, which convinced me that their supplies were by no means exhausted.58
Whilst this meant that the French had adequate supplies for a few weeks, as the winter progressed the foraging parties had to cover larger areas, the brutality of their methods of extraction increased and ultimately the success of the foraging decreased. But even into 1811, there were still reports of the French having food. Fletcher wrote on 2 February: ‘They are said still to find an abundance of cattle’; Squire also commented on 1 March: ‘They display on their side of the Tagus a great abundance of sheep and cattle and are in no greater danger of starvation than ourselves.’
In the end Masséna had no choice but to retreat as his force had steadily diminished throughout the winter to a point where it was no longer strong enough in numbers or in health to attack the Allied positions. It is likely that Masséna also knew that Allied reinforcements had arrived in the first days of March. It may have been that this, combined with no possibility of substantial reinforcements of his own, was the trigger for his decision to retreat. In the end Masséna did not even try to take the Lines. I will leave the final comment on the Lines to John Jones: ‘[This was the] first and only instance of a military enterprise planned and matured by Napoleon … being defeated by the … superior foresight of an opponent.’59