Had that battle been lost, the disasters of the French army before Moscow would have been of little account in the scale of the south, and the imperial eagles would have soared with the same splendour, from Madrid to Cadiz, or perhaps to Lisbon, as if no event of importance had occurred beyond the Vistula. Portugal would have been then open to invasion—the siege of Cadiz continued—the lines of Lisbon once more invested—and what then?—why, the probable withdrawal of the British army from the Peninsula. Portugal would be thus conquered—Spain laid prostrate—England in utter dismay—and one hundred and fifty thousand veteran French troops marched across the Pyrenees to take a part in the combats of Lutzen and Leipsic. These would have been the results of a defeat at Salamanca; and who is the man bold enough to say what the results in the north of Europe would have been, had such an augmentation of force—which would have been certain—joined Napoleon in the end of 1812, or even in the spring of 1813? As it was, he gained the battle of Lutzen with a “green army.” Had he been backed by one hundred and fifty thousand veteran troops from Spain, it requires no conjuror to tell what the upshot would have been. These are the consequences which would have followed a defeat at Salamanca. The gaining that battle placed matters on a different footing. Portugal had nothing to dread—Soult was forced to raise the siege of Cadiz—Madrid was evacuated, and Castille and Andalusia were freed from the presence of a French force; but, above all, no reinforcement of any account durst leave Spain to succour the French army in the north of Europe; and the European struggle was brought to a favourable result, and England saved from invasion—perhaps ultimate conquest! But those services of the Peninsular army are forgotten, and unrewarded. At ten o’clock at night, Lord Wellington at the head of twelve thousand infantry, and two thousand horsemen, was in pursuit of the routed and discomfited army of Marmont, while the bulk of his own soldiers lay on the field of battle. The results of that battle were—prisoners, one hundred and thirty officers, seven thousand five hundred men, two eagles, and fourteen guns. The field of battle was heaped with the slain, and the total loss of the enemy may be estimated at seventeen thousand: it has been reckoned by some writers as exceeding twenty thousand; but I apprehend I am nearer the mark, and that seventeen thousand was the outside. The dead and wounded on the side of the British and Portuguese (for the Spanish army, commanded by Don Carlos de España, lost _four men_!) were nearly five thousand; but the greater number of the Portuguese either fell in their feeble attempt against the Arapilles height, or by the shot that passed over the first line, composed of British, which fell at random amongst the Portuguese placed in the rear.