We started by driving to Ciudad Rodrigo’s Portuguese counterpart, via the battlefield of Fuentes De Onoro. Almeida. We arrived in time for lunch. The guide book says that the easiest way to get trampled to death is to come between a Portuguese and his lunch. We walked into the restaurant at 12.35, to find it full, and that one of the specials was already finished. Fantastic. My kind of people. Unfortunately I ordered salt cod. I got confused in Spain, because bacalao was sometimes fresh cod, so I asked the waitress and she said it was fresh, but I think she meant freshly prepared. Her enthusiasm that we were ordering the stuff should have warned us. It was beautifully prepared but nothing will ever make me like that fibrous texture and old fish taste. Still, looking on the bright side, meals are eaten at proper times. No wonder the Spanish invented tapas – it was the only way not to faint with hunger.
Anyway, Fuentes de Onoro. This was an earlier battle, in May 1811, and the French were commanded by Massena, who was sacked by Napoleon for not winning. Wellington was defending a typically Wellington position, along a ridge. One end was the village of Fuentes De Onoro and there was fierce street fighting. It must have been really difficult as the houses are low and stone built and there are many narrow lanes with stone walls The village is pretty decrepit, it looks as though it never recovered, although Wellington asked Parliament to vote funds for compensation, saying the fighting “had not much improved” it. We drove along the ridge to where Craufurd’s Light Division carried out a textbook retreat from French cavalry.
Next, we went to the valley of the Coa. It’s strategically very important, and one can see why since it runs in a deep and steep sided valley. In 1811 the British were retreating into Portugal. They needed to hold a bridge near Almeida long enough to get the guns and cavalry across, which they did. Ney tried to force the bridge, in spite of the British now being across and placed on higher ground and got three quarters of the regiment sent to attack killed or wounded.
Then on to Almeida. The best thing abut this trip is that we are seeing parts of Spain and Portugal we didn’t know existed. This area is all tors, rocks, and heath or even moor. And I certainly never thought of Alpine type villages with half timbered houses and rushing mountain streams in Spain. We are so far off the beaten track that we have had some very strange conversations, including one with an old lady all in black with a mattock on her shoulder, who talked for ages, evidently under the impression that if she said things forcibly enough, we would understand. We didn’t.
Almeida is the strongest fortress we have seen. The fortifications are absolutely immense. Wellington was quite confident that the garrison would be able to hold out for months. Unfortunately, almost immediately a French shell set off the most tremendous explosion in the powder magazine, which took the citadel and the church with it. With no powde,r weapons or provisions left, and with most of the gunners dead (and, no doubt, the rest demoralised) it fell the next day. It’s a pleasant town nowadays and they are obviously proud of their history. There’s still a massive hole in it! I managed to send the grandsons a post card – I thought they’d like the story of a massive explosion. I haven’t seen anything to buy them, except wooden scimitars, which I think they like but hurt each other with, so I’m trying to send post cards. Having a suitable card, stamps and a post box all at the same time is surprisingly challenging, however.
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