MassÉna’s invasion of Portugal—Fall of Ciudad Rodrigo and Almeida—Craufurd’s fight on the Coa—Anecdote of Colonel Charles Napier—The British retire to the position of Busaco.

In the month of January, 1810, Lord Wellington established his headquarters at Viseu, in Upper Beira, and the different brigades of cavalry and infantry were quartered in the neighbouring villages. General Hill was left with five thousand British, and about as many Portuguese, at Abrantes; and with his army posted as has been described, the British General awaited the development of MassÉna’s plan of invasion. The amount of the French force at this period in the Peninsula counted over three hundred and sixty thousand troops of all arms; but the army commanded by MassÉna, and called “the army of Portugal,” did not amount to ninety thousand. The amount of the British and Portuguese forces has been already stated to be about fifty-five thousand men; and it will be recollected that of the Portuguese army scarcely one man in one hundred had ever discharged a musket against an enemy. As to the British, when Lord Wellington moved his army from the Guadiana its numbers counted about thirty thousand, but those under arms scarcely reckoned twenty thousand; the remainder were in hospital, and many of those in the ranks were but ill able to carry their knapsacks and firelocks, having not yet recovered from the effects of past illness.

The French preparations were so formidable, our own force so small, that in the British ranks it was generally believed that the entire army would retreat on Lisbon when the French advanced, and embark there. The same was asserted in England; the Portuguese dreaded it; the French army universally believed it, and the British ministers seem to have entertained the same opinion; for at this time an officer of engineers arrived at Lisbon, whose instructions, received personally from Lord Liverpool, though unknown to Lord Wellington, commenced thus: “As it is probable that the army will embark in September.”

Fortunately for us, the French lingered long ere they began their invasion. It was not till June 1810 that Ney began the siege of Ciudad Rodrigo, while MassÉna still remained at Madrid. The garrison of the fortress amounted to about six thousand men, and was commanded by the Spanish general, Herrasti, an old and gallant man who had served his country with honour for more than half a century. The town was amply supplied with artillery, provisions, and stores of all kinds; and the vigorous resistance which was expected was made by Herrasti and his brave garrison.

General Robert Craufurd, with his superb division, occupied the line of the Coa, while General Cole, with the 4th Division, and Picton with the 3rd, were posted at Guarda and Pinhel; and these troops were directed to be in readiness to render any support that could with safety be given to the Spanish governor. That assistance could never be given, and Ciudad Rodrigo fell, after sustaining a siege of upwards of a month. Its gallant defence reflected great credit on both the governor and garrison, and the delay it caused the French army was of the greatest importance to Lord Wellington’s plan of resistance, because the heavy rains which were almost sure to fall in the autumn would greatly aid in the defence of the country.

After his capture of Rodrigo, MassÉna lost no time in laying siege to Almeida, and it was hoped that this town, which was, though by no means a model of perfection, a more regularly constructed fortress than Ciudad Rodrigo, would hold out for at least as long. But here we were to be bitterly disappointed. On August 26, 1810, the bombardment began: in a short time a great portion of the town was in flames, and it was found impossible in the confusion that prevailed to put a stop to the calamity. But this mattered little; no great damage had been done to the walls, and the guns of the garrison replied with vigour. But at midnight a terrible explosion was heard, the castle was rent into a thousand pieces, and the entire town disappeared, as if swallowed by an earthquake. This tremendous crash was heard for a distance of many leagues. The main magazine had been blown up by a French shell, and the Governor, Colonel Cox, was obliged to surrender next day.

While these events were taking place, a variety of movements between our advance and that of the enemy occurred. Upon one occasion a portion of the 14th Dragoons came in contact with a body of the enemy’s infantry, and their commanding officer, Colonel Talbot, fell in the midst of a square against which he made a gallant, but fruitless charge. But this was of little import in comparison with what took place with the Light Division, under Craufurd, on the banks of the Coa. His force consisted of four thousand infantry, a thousand cavalry, and a brigade of guns.

The force opposed to him was about six times his own number, but yet he, with a hardihood bordering on rashness, held his post, and fought a very dangerous battle—contrary to orders, I believe—and lost upwards of three hundred men, with nearly thirty officers, and had it not been for the superior description of the troops he commanded, the division would have been destroyed to a man. The French, it is true lost three times the number Craufurd did; but what of that? MassÉna could have better spared one thousand men than Wellington one hundred!

It has been said that Craufurd fully expected Picton would have joined him with the 3rd Division, stationed at Pinhel. The division of Picton were within hearing of the fire, but not a man was ordered to move to the support of Craufurd. The wounded men and officers of the Light Division came into Pinhel in the best manner they could, some on foot, others on cars, and the 3rd Division were much excited at not being allowed to join their old companions.

Colonel Wallace held the 88th in readiness, as I believe did every other officer commanding a battalion, and the division could have assembled and marched in ten minutes had any order been given to that effect. However, the Light Division, after performing more than could have been expected, even from it, and doing so alone, without the aid which it looked for, and which might have been afforded it, held their ground, and sustained no disaster, but on the contrary inflicted a severe loss on the enemy, and covered itself with glory.

Craufurd, after his gallant fight, lay, with his division, in the different villages in our front, and a quiet calm succeeded the first outburst. There was an inactivity in the movements of the enemy, notwithstanding that the soldiers had been supplied with bread for many days; and a curious incident took place at the time that is worthy of mention. It shows the good terms upon which the British and French officers stood in regard to each other.

Colonel Napier of the 50th Regiment, who had been badly wounded at Corunna, and who had been treated with much attention by Soult and Ney after he was made prisoner at that battle, stopped at Pinhel. He was on his parole, and when asked by some of our officers, whom he knew, “where he was going?” replied, “I am going to pass some time with my friend Marshal Ney!” He did pass some time with him, and was an eye-witness to all that went on in his camp; but where such confidence was shown to any British officer, much less one of such high character and honour as Colonel Napier, it is needless to say that it was not forfeited.

Napier, after having stayed with his friend Ney for some weeks,^[4] returned on his way to England, when en passant he found the ridge of Busaco was about to be contested, and the gallant Colonel, although not on duty, or in any way connected with the army, being in fact on his parole, wished to be a looker-on. It so happened that he was wounded, while standing near Lord Wellington. His name was returned, and the French official paper, the Moniteur, made some remarks upon the Colonel breaking his parole. It was, however, soon explained by the gallant officer, and, in return, the Paris papers did not let pass an occasion which afforded them amusement, and they quaintly remarked “that a man who was so fond of French fire, after what he had got of it before, ought to live in France!”

After a good deal of delay and vacillation, it appeared that MassÉna had at last seriously resolved on his enterprise. He had, under his immediate command, nearly one hundred and twenty thousand bayonets and sabres, but from this force some deductions must be made, by which it would appear that at the utmost he did not bring more than sixty thousand fighting men across the Coa. Finally he passed that river, and our army retired towards the banks of the Mondego, and Lord Wellington was obliged to give battle. But this obligation did not emanate from him—quite the contrary.

It was necessary that he should do something, and the thing was forced upon him by the refractory spirit of the Portuguese councils. If then he was to fight, for the first time, with an army of Portuguese to back him, he judged that the ridge of Busaco was a good spot to try them, and he accordingly resolved to take his stand there. This ridge of mountain extends for about eight miles, and near its termination, and on a high point, stands a convent, inhabited by monks and friars. The face of the mountain is rugged, filled with dells and dykes, and the intervening space between its base and the top is one mass of rock and heath.

On the 26th of September, all the different corps were placed in the stations they should occupy, and the entire ridge of Busaco was fully manned; during the evening we could perceive the enemy occupying their different stations in our front, and the light troops of both armies were warmly engaged along the entire of the line.

At night we lay down to rest; each man, with his firelock in his grasp, remained at his post, anxiously waiting the arrival of the morrow, which was destined to be the last that many amongst us were to behold. We had no fires, and the death-like stillness that reigned throughout our army was only interrupted by the occasional challenge of an advanced sentry, or a random shot fired at some imaginary foe.

The night at length passed over, but long before the dawn of day the warlike preparations of the enemy were to be heard. The trumpets sounded for the horsemen to prepare for the fight, and the roll of the drums and shrill notes of the fife gave notice to the French infantry that the hour had arrived when its claim to be the best in Europe was to be disputed.

On our side all was still as the grave. Lord Wellington lay amongst his soldiers, under no other covering than his cloak, and as he passed through the ranks of the different battalions already formed, his presence and manner gave that confidence to his companions which had a magical effect. All was now ready on our part; the men stood to their arms; and as each soldier took his place in the line, his quiet demeanour, and orderly, but determined appearance, was a strong contrast to the bustle and noise which prevailed amongst our opposite neighbours; but those preparations were of short continuance, and some straggling shots along the brow of the mountain gave warning that we were about to commence the battle of Busaco.^[5]