THE BATTLE OF BUSACO.
1810.
Soult, who had collected thirty-five thousand men, on learning the
defeat of Talavera, made a flank movement to assist Joseph Buonaparte,
and reached Placentia by the pass of Banos. Lord Wellington, on being
apprised of the French marshal’s advance, instantly determined to march
forward and engage him; while Cuesta observed the line of the Tagus,
and protected the stores and hospitals at Talavera. Accordingly, on
the 3rd of August, the British moved to Orapesa; but on that evening
information was received that Soult had cut off Lord Wellington’s
communication with the bridge of Almarez, and that Cuesta was about to
evacuate Talavera. This intelligence made an immediate change in Lord
Wellington’s plans indispensable, and it became necessary to cross the
Tagus instantly. A passage was effected by the bridge of Arzabispo, and
the whole artillery and stores were safely brought off, over horrible
roads, which hitherto had been deemed impracticable for anything but
mules and the rude carriages of the country. After a short stay, the
British fell back on Badajoz, early in September.
Cuesta’s sudden retreat from Talavera had not only endangered Lord
Wellington, but nearly caused the total destruction of the Portuguese
corps commanded by Sir Robert Wilson. In obedience to orders, Sir
Robert had advanced within twelve miles of the capital before he
was recalled, and after narrowly escaping the French armies, by
the ill-judged retirement of the Spanish general from Talavera, he
found himself completely cut off from the Tagus. With considerable
difficulty, the Portuguese general crossed the Sierra de Llana, and
seized the pass of Banos, whither Soult, on falling back from Placentia
to Leon, was rapidly advancing, nothing remaining for him but to defend
the pass, and risk a battle with numbers immensely superior to his
own. This determination was gallantly carried into effect. After a
desperate resistance of nine hours, Wilson was at last forced from the
position, with a loss of eight hundred men; while the remainder of his
corps dispersed, and succeeded in reaching Castello Branco.
Following up this success, Soult, with fifty thousand men, was
despatched by Joseph against the southern provinces, and succeeded in
crossing the Sierra Morena, though the whole range had been strongly
fortified, and thirty thousand men under Ariezaga, intrusted with its
defence. So quickly, and with such trifling loss was this dangerous
operation achieved, that it was a question whether the marshal was more
indebted for his success to treachery or cowardice. Cadiz was preserved
by the prompt decision of the duke of Albuquerque, the gates closed
against the French, and the city secured against bombardment, except
from one point occupied by Fort Matagorda.
All else had gone favourably for the French. Sebastiani defeated
Ariezaga on his retreat to Grenada, and that city and Malaga, after
a faint effort at defence, fell. Gerona surrendered after a brave
and protracted resistance. Hostalrich was also taken; and Astorga
capitulated in the middle of April. In fact, the French were everywhere
victorious, and Spain once more lay nearly at their feet. This, as
Colonel Jones observes, was “the second crisis in the affairs of the
Peninsula, as, by a succession of desultory and ill-planned enterprises
on the part of the Spaniards, all their armies had been annihilated,
their fortresses reduced, and three-fourths of the kingdom subdued.”
Affairs certainly wore a gloomy aspect. Napoleon had openly announced
his determination to drive the British into the sea; and his means,
relieved as he was by an alliance with Austria, seemed amply sufficient
to realise the threat. Circumstances had increased his resources, and
left him a large disposable force to direct on Portugal.
But still, notwithstanding the gloomy prospects of the British, it was
surprising what a number of desertions took place from the enemy’s
corps. Between the commencement of 1810 and the month of May, nearly
five hundred men, chiefly Germans and Italians, arrived, time after
time, at the British outposts; while desertions from the British
regiments were extremely rare.
Early in May, Massena prepared for active operations, and invested
the fortress of Rodrigo, the inferiority of Lord Wellington’s force
rendering any attempt on his part to prevent it impossible. All that
could be done was to observe the enemy closely; and for this purpose,
headquarters were transferred to Almeida, which, after a few days, were
farther retired to Alverca, six leagues in the rear.
The investment of Rodrigo, which occasional advances of the British had
partially relaxed, became now more serious, for Ney determined that
the place should fall, and taking post on a range of high grounds with
thirty thousand men, he covered effectually the operations carried on
by Junot, whose separate force amounted to forty thousand more.
It was now ascertained that Matagorda had fallen, that Cadiz, of
course, must yield, that divisions of the guards had entered Madrid,
and that Napoleon was absolutely across the Pyrenees.
The siege of Rodrigo continued; a gallant resistance was made, for
the garrison disputed every inch of ground, rallying frequently,
and maintaining a well-directed fire that occasioned the besiegers
considerable loss. The old governor, Hervasti, did wonders, and with
a garrison of four thousand men, and fortifications in bad condition,
many parts of the wall having its breaches only stopped loosely with
rubbish, he kept seventy thousand men at bay, provided with siege
stores in abundance, and a numerous corps of active and scientific
engineers to direct the labours of the thousands who composed their
working parties. On the 30th of June the breach was practicable, and
stormed, but the French were repulsed, after suffering an enormous loss
in killed and wounded.
Though the British army looked on, they could not save the fortress.
The siege was pressed, and the outposts of the two armies came
occasionally in contact with each other.
On the 4th of July the French made a strong reconnaissance with five
regiments of cavalry, a corps of infantry, and some guns. A spirited
affair ensued, and Gallegos and Almeida were given up, and a position
taken by the British in rear of Fort Conception.
Time passed without any affair of moment occurring, until Ciudad
Rodrigo capitulated, after a noble defence of a full month with open
trenches. Julian Sanchez, finding the place must fall, quitted the city
at midnight with his lancers, and cut his way through the enemy’s posts.
Ney, it is said, annoyed at the obstinacy with which the fortress held
out, until the breach was found by Hervasti indefensible, and the
troops for the assault were actually formed in the trenches, declined
all terms but unconditional surrender. Massena, however, with more
generosity, conceded the honours of war to the brave and resolute
commandant.
Consequent on the fall of Rodrigo, numerous movements took place.
It was impossible to guess in what way Massena would follow up his
success, and the last arrangements were made by Lord Wellington to meet
every probable contingency.
When the fall of Almeida was known, Lord Wellington, who had advanced
when Massena broke ground, fell back to the position on which he had
previously retired; and anxious to get into closer communication with
General Hill, he retreated leisurely on Gouvea. By this movement he
checked any attempt that might have been intended from Sabugal by
Covilhos, and effectually secured the fortified position of Zezere from
being turned.
Yet the situation of the allies was truly critical. The fall of Almeida
permitted Massena to advance with confidence, while in numbers, the
French marshal was immensely superior; and of the allied force, a
great portion of the Portuguese had never been under fire. The news of
Romana’s defeat by Mortier, made matters still more alarming; as the
latter might come up in sufficient time to threaten the right of the
allies by Alcantara or Abrantes.
But Massena’s movements ended this suspense, and Wellington was about
to achieve one of his most splendid victories.
It was impossible to avoid a battle. Wellington crossed the Mondego,
while the French were concentrated at Viseu. The first division had
been placed in observation of the Oporto road, the light on the road of
Viseu; but the French having passed the Criz, Lord Wellington changed
his position, and fell back upon the heights of Busaco.
The mountain range, upon which the British retired, was about eight
miles long; its right touching the Mondego, and the left stretching
over very difficult ground to the Sierra de Caramula. There was a road
cresting the Busaco ridge, and a ford at Pena Cova, communicating with
the Murcella ridge, and the face of the position was steep, rugged, and
well defended by the allied artillery. Along the front a sweeping fire
could be maintained, and on a part of the summit cavalry might act if
necessary.
To an assailing enemy, a position like that of Busaco must present
most serious difficulties; and, therefore, it was generally believed
that Massena would not risk a battle. But Lord Wellington thought
differently, and coolly added, “If he does, I shall beat him.”
Pack’s division had fallen back on the 22nd September, and on the
23rd Massena drove in the British cavalry. The third division took a
position at Antonio de Contara, and the fourth at the convent; while
the light division bivouacked in a pine wood. On the 24th it fell back
four miles, and some skirmishing of no particular importance took place.
The 25th had nearly brought on a second affair between Craufurd and
the enemy. Immense masses of the French were moving rapidly forward,
and the cavalry had interchanged a pistol fire, when Lord Wellington
arrived, and instantly retired the division. Not a moment could
be lost; the enemy came on with amazing rapidity, but the British
rearguard behaved with its usual determination; and after a series of
quick and beautifully-executed manœuvres, secured their retreat on
the position. Both armies that evening bivouacked in each other’s
presence, and sixty-five thousand French infantry, covered by a mass of
voltigeurs, formed in the British front, while scarcely fifty thousand
of the allies were in line on the Sierra de Busaco, and these, of
necessity, were extended over a surface which their numbers were quite
incompetent to defend.
Ney and Reynier agreed that the moment of their arrival afforded the
best chance for attacking Wellington successfully, and Massena was
informed that the allied troops were only getting into their ground,
and that their dispositions were accordingly imperfect. But the marshal
came up too late; for all the arrangements of Wellington had been
coolly and admirably effectuated.
The British brigades were continuously posted. On the right, General
Hill’s division was stationed. Leith, on his left, prolonged the line,
with the Lusitanian legion in reserve. Picton joined Leith, and was
supported by a brigade of Portuguese. The brigades of Spencer crested
the ridge, and held the ground between the third division and the
convent; and the fourth division closed the extreme left, covering
the mountain path of Milheada, with part of the cavalry on a flat,
and a regiment of dragoons in reserve on the summit of the Sierra.
Pack’s division formed the advanced guard to the right, and extended
half-way down the hill; while in a hollow below the convent, the light
brigade and Germans were thrown out. The whole front was covered
with skirmishers, and on every point from which the artillery could
effectively range, the guns were placed in battery.
While these dispositions were being completed, evening had come on,
both armies establishing themselves for the night, and the French
lighting fires. Some attempts of the enemy to introduce their
tirailleurs, in broken numbers, among the wooded hollows in front of
the light division, indicated an intention of a night attack, and
the rifles and caçadores drove them back. But no attempt was made,
and a mild and warm atmosphere allowed the troops to bivouac without
inconvenience on the battleground. A few hours of comparative stillness
passed, one hundred thousand men slept under the canopy of heaven; and
before the first faint glimmering of light, all stood quietly to arms,
and prepared for a bloody day.
Shrouded by the grey mist that still was lingering on the Sierra, the
enemy advanced. Ney, with three columns, moved forward in front of the
convent, where Craufurd’s division was posted; while Reynier, with
two divisions, approached by less difficult ground the pickets of the
third division, before the feeble light permitted his movements to be
discovered. With their usual impetuosity the French pushed forward,
and the British as determinately opposed them. Under a heavy fire of
grape and musketry, the enemy topped the heights; and on the left of
the third division, gained the summit of the mountain, their leading
battalions securing themselves among the rocks, and threatening the
ridge of the Sierra. The disorder of a Portuguese regiment, the 8th,
afforded them also a partial advantage. But the fire of two guns
with grape opened on their flank; in front, a heavy fusilade was
maintained; while, advancing over the crown of the height, the 88th
and four companies of the 45th charged furiously with the bayonet, and
with an ardour that could not be resisted. Both French and British
were intermixed in a desperate _mêlée_, both fought hand to hand,
both went struggling down the mountain, the head of the French column
annihilated, and covering the descent, from the crown to the valley,
with heaps of its dead and dying.
At this time the 45th were engaged with numbers out of proportion, but
they gallantly maintained their ground. The 5th, 74th, and 83rd, were
likewise attacked; but the 88th, from the nature of their situation,
came in contact with the full body of the enemy, and, while opposed
to three times their own number in front, were assailed on their
left by a couple of hundred riflemen stationed in the rocks. Colonel
Wallace changed his front, but had scarcely reached the rocks, when a
fire, destructive as it was animated, assailed him. The moment was a
critical one, but he never lost his presence of mind. He ordered his
two first companies to attack the rocks, while he pressed forward with
the remainder of his regiment against the main body. The 8th Portuguese
were close on the enemy, and opened a well-directed fire, while the
45th were performing prodigies of valour. At this moment the 88th came
up to the assistance of their comrades, and the three regiments pressed
on; a terrific contest took place; the French fought well, but they had
no chance with our men when we grappled close with them; and they were
overthrown, leaving half of their column on the heath with which the
hill was covered.
The French, ranged amphitheatrically one above another, took a
murderous aim at our soldiers in their advance to dislodge; officers as
well as privates became personally engaged in a hand-to-hand fight.
Although they combated with a desperation suited to the situation in
which they were placed, the heroes of Austerlitz, Ealing, and Wagram,
were hurled from the rocks by the Rangers of Connaught.
The 88th arriving to the assistance of their comrades, instantly
charged, and the enemy were borne over the cliffs and crags with
fearful rapidity, many of them being literally picked out of the holes
in the rocks by the bayonets of our soldiers.
Referring to their conduct on this occasion, the Duke of Wellington
observes in his despatch that he never witnessed a more gallant attack
than that made by these two regiments on the division of the enemy
which had then reached the ridge of the Sierra. In addition to this
flattering testimony of his Grace, and in further evidence of the
gallantry they displayed, it will be sufficient to state that the
loss sustained by these two corps on the occasion amounted to sixteen
officers, seven sergeants, and two hundred and sixty-one men, being
nearly one-half of the whole British loss in the battle.
When a part of the Sierra had been gained, Leith perceiving that the
French had occupied it, moved the 38th on their right flank, with the
Royals in reserve. The 9th formed line under a heavy fire, and, without
returning a shot, fairly deforced the French grenadiers from the rocks
with the bayonet. The mountain crest was now secure, Reynier completely
repulsed, and Hill, closing up to support, prevented any attempt being
made to recover it.
The greater difficulty of the ground rendered Ney’s attacks still less
successful, even for a time, than Reynier’s had proved. Craufurd’s
disposition of the light division was masterly. Under a dipping of
the ground between the convent and plateau, the 43rd and 52nd were
formed in line; while higher up the hill, and closer to the convent,
the Germans were drawn up. The rocks in front formed a natural battery
for the guns; and the whole face of the Sierra was crowded with
riflemen and caçadores. Morning had scarcely dawned, when a sharp and
scattered musketry was heard among the broken hollows of the valley
that separated the rival armies, and presently the French appeared in
three divisions, Loisson’s mounting the face of the Sierra, Marchand’s
inclining leftwards, as if it intended to turn the right flank of the
light division, and the third held in reserve.
The brigade of General Simon led the attack, and reckless of the
constant fusilade of the British light troops, and the sweeping fire
of the artillery, which literally ploughed through the advancing
column, from its leading to its last section, the enemy came steadily
and quickly on. The horse artillery worked their guns with amazing
rapidity, delivering round after round with such beautiful precision
that the wonder was how any body of men could advance under such a
withering and incessant cannonade. But nothing could surpass the
gallantry of the assailants. On they came, and in a few moments, their
skirmishers, “breathless, and begrimed with powder,” topped the ridge
of the Sierra. The British guns were instantly retired, the French
cheers arose, and, in another second, their column topped the height.
General Craufurd, who had coolly watched the progress of the advance,
called on the 43rd and 52nd to “Charge!” A cheer that pealed for miles
over the Sierra answered the order, and eighteen hundred British
bayonets went sparkling over the brow of the hill. The head of the
French column was overwhelmed in an instant; both its flanks were
lapped over by the British wings, while volley after volley, at a few
yards’ distance, completed its destruction, and marked with hundreds
of its dead and dying, prostrate on the face of the Sierra, the course
of its murderous discomfiture. Some of the light troops continued
slaughtering the broken columns nearly to the bottom of the hill, until
Ney’s guns opened from the opposite side, and covered the escape of
relics of Simon’s division.
And yet the bravery of the French merited a better result. No troops
advanced more gallantly; and when the British steel was glittering in
their faces, as with resistless force the fatal rush was made over
the crest of the Sierra, every man of the first section of the French
raised and discharged his musket, although before his finger parted
from the trigger he knew that a British bayonet would be quivering in
his heart. Simon was wounded and left upon the field, and his division
so totally shattered as to be unable to make any second attempt.
On the right, Marchand’s brigades having gained the cover of a pine
wood, threw out their skirmishers and endeavoured to surmount the
broken surface that the hill everywhere presented. Pack held them in
check, while the Guards, formed on the brow of the Sierra, were seen in
such imposing force as to render any attempt on the position useless.
Craufurd’s artillery flanked the pine wood, and maintained a rapid
fire; when, finding his troops sinking under an unprofitable slaughter,
Ney, after the effort of an hour, retired behind the rocks.
The roar of battle was stilled. Each side removed their wounded men;
and the moment the firing ceased both parties amicably intermingled,
and sought and brought off their disabled comrades. When this labour
of humanity was over, a French company having taken possession of a
village within pistol-shot of General Craufurd, stoutly refused to
retire when directed. The commander of the light division turned his
artillery on the post, overwhelmed it in an instant with his cannonade,
and when the guns ceased firing, sent down a few companies of the 43rd
to clear the ruins of any whom his grape might have left alive, the
obstinacy of the French officer having drawn upon him most justly the
anger of the fiery leader of the light division.
The loss sustained by Massena in his attempt upon the British position
at Busaco was immense. A general of brigade, Graind’orge, and above a
thousand men, were killed; Foy, Merle, and Simon, with four thousand
five hundred, were wounded; and nearly three hundred taken prisoners.
The allied casualties did not exceed twelve hundred and fifty men, of
which nearly one-half were Portuguese.
No battle witnessed more gallant efforts on the part of the enemy than
Busaco; and that the British loss should be so disproportionate to that
suffered by the French, can readily be conceived from the superior
fire, particularly of cannon, which the position of Busaco enabled Lord
Wellington to employ. The Portuguese troops behaved admirably, their
steadiness and bravery were as creditable to the British officers who
disciplined and led them on, as it was satisfactory to the Commander of
the Allies.