The captain of the company in which I served being in want of a servant, I had the honour of being engaged in that capacity. My place, however, was no sinecure, and often amounted to a rather dangerous distinction. The duties enjoined were heavy, and contributed not a little to increase the severity of general military service. When my master dismounted from his horse, I had to hold the animal, or lead him by the bridle along roads through which it was difficult to drag myself; and the horse, chafed by rough usage and deficient feed, was frequently so restive that my employment was both irksome and laborious. This horse became an eventual favourite. Having been placed for a short time at large, he thought proper to escape, and accordingly scoured away over hill and dale, with the saddle and accoutrements of his master, including a pair of pistols in the holster and change of clothing behind. He was observed by a party of French, who tried to secure him, but, strange to say, he was determined they should not. By a kind of instinct, to me an entire enigma, the horse chose the road in which he apparently knew his old associates were to follow; and when we had crossed the bridge, to my surprise, he was there beforehand, and waiting our arrival. A rare and unpleasant circumstance took place here. The discipline and good order of the 43rd were proverbial. The matter was therefore so much the more vexatious. Being placed for a brief period in the vicinity of a village, the landlady of a Spanish house of entertainment had broached a puncheon of wine, which she retailed at a stipulated price. One of our men, with more wit than wisdom, got behind the cask unperceived by the lady, and having pierced the hinder end with his bayonet, drew away both for himself and friends. In an evil hour the unlucky wight was detected, and next morning was punished in presence of the regiment. That the man did wrong, is clear; but being a good soldier, and of an excellent temper withal, the event excited great regret, and the humiliating spectacle was witnessed with reluctance.
One day a bullock was killed for our use, and afforded a luxurious repast; but we were obliged to make haste about it. Scarcely had we finished a hasty meal, when the advance of the enemy was announced. The men were unwilling to lose even a fragment of viands so scarce; and several were afterwards observed collecting bundles of the long dry grass and making a fire, over which they frizzled pieces of meat, impaled on the end of a ramrod. The hardships we endured in the prosecution of this retreat were increasingly severe. Personal comforts were out of the question. No change of linen could be procured, and as to a pair of stockings, the luxury was not to be thought of. As mine were worn to tatters, I contented myself without a new supply. Snatches of broken slumber were all we could obtain, though, ready to stumble with weariness. The physical energies both of myself and comrades have, since that period, often appeared wonderful, even to myself. Many a time I have marched eight or ten miles on the nourishment afforded by a little water; and even then, with a pipe and good company, we talked away dull care, and were able with three cheers to face about, and with a determined volley warn away the following foe. We were much hurt by exposure to extremes. After the exhaustion arising from a forced march, pursued for hours, during the meridian heat of this burning climate, we lay down to rest for the night; and on the following morning such was the copiousness of the fallen dew, that our blankets appeared as if dipped in water. Rising from the ground in such a condition, it will be easily imagined that our sensations were not of an enviable cast. Even then I thought of my native land; of its rivers and vales, all so peaceful and beauteous, and they arose fairer than ever. And I thought of my mother, who so often had cared and watched for me! But these meditations were dismissed. Had they been long indulged, my heart would have melted within me; and the time was at hand when the sterner faculties were likely to be tried to the uttermost.
A sad disaster happened at this period. Almeida was besieged by Masséna in person, at the head of a powerful army. The place, though regularly constructed with six bastions, ravelines, an excellent ditch and covered way, was extremely defective. With the exception of some damp casemates in one of the bastions, there was no magazine for the powder. The garrison consisted of about four thousand men. On the 18th of July the trenches were begun, and on the morning of the 26th, the second parallel being commenced, sixty-five pieces of artillery, mounted on ten batteries, threw in their fire. Many houses were soon in flames, and the garrison was unable to extinguish them; the counter fire was, however, briskly maintained, little military damage was sustained, and towards evening the cannonade slackened on both sides; but just after dark, the ground suddenly trembled, the castle burst into a thousand pieces, and gave vent to a column of smoke and fire. Presently the whole town sank into a shapeless mass of ruin. Treason or accident had caused the magazine to explode, and the devastation was incredible. Five hundred persons were struck dead on the instant; only six houses remained standing; and the surviving garrison, aghast at the terrible commotion, disregarded all exhortations to rally. An immediate surrender was the necessary result.
The invasion of Portugal by the French now assumed a most serious aspect. Masséna’s command extended from the banks of the Tagus to the Bay of Biscay, and the number of his troops exceeded a hundred and ten thousand men. The view was discouraging, and was so felt by the British ministry at home. Masséna could bring sixty thousand veterans into the field, while the British force was scarcely fifty thousand, more than half of which consisted of untried men. The Sierra Busaco was the place on which Lord Wellington fixed for his position. A succession of ascending ridges lead to this mountain, which is separated from the last by a chasm so profound, that the unassisted eye could hardly distinguish the movement of troops in the bottom. When this formidable position was chosen, some officers expressed their fears that Masséna would not assail it. ‘But if he do, I shall beat him,’ was the reply of the English leader, who was well assured that the prince would attack. Masséna was in fact anxious for a battle, and indulged in a vision in which he beheld the allies fly before his face.
On the 22nd of September we fell back exactly a league, and encamped in a pine wood. One night there happened among us an extraordinary panic, for which none of us, either then or since, could assign any reasonable cause. No enemy was near, nor was any alarm given, yet suddenly large bodies of the troops started from sleep, as if seized with a frenzy, and dispersed in every direction; some climbed the trees, they knew not why; nor was there any possibility of allaying this strange terror, until some person called out that the enemy’s cavalry were among them, when the soldiers mechanically fell into something like order, and the illusion instantly vanished. On the 25th the enemy’s cavalry were seen gathering in front, and the heads of the three infantry columns were visible on the tableland above Mortagas, coming on abreast, and at a most impetuous pace; while heavy clouds of dust, rising and loading the atmosphere for miles behind, showed that the whole French army was in full march to attack. The cavalry skirmishers were already exchanging pistol shots, when Lord Wellington, suddenly arriving, ordered the division to retire, and, taking the personal direction, covered the retreat with the 52nd and other troops. Nor was there a moment to lose; the enemy with great rapidity brought up both infantry and guns, and fell on so briskly, that all the skill of the general and the readiness of the rearguard, where I was placed, could scarcely prevent the division from being seriously engaged. Before three o’clock, forty thousand French infantry were in position on the two points, and the sharp musketry of the skirmishers arose from the gloomy chasms beneath. The allies had now taken their stand; and along the whole of their front skirmishers were thrown out on the mountain side, and about fifty pieces of artillery disposed upon the salient points. In the evening, in order to facilitate the approaching attack, the light French troops were observed stealing by twos and threes into the lowest parts of the valley, endeavouring to make their way up the wooded dells and hollows, and to establish themselves unseen close to the piquets of the light division. Some companies of rifle corps and cacadores checked this; but similar attempts made with more or less success at different points of the position seemed to indicate a night attack, and excited all the vigilance of the troops. Had it not been so, none but veterans tired of war could have slept. The weather was calm and fine, and the dark mountain masses rising on either side were crowned with innumerable watch-fires, around which more than a hundred thousand brave men were gathered.
The attack began on the following morning before day-break. Three columns were led by Ney and two by Reynier, the points being about three miles asunder. The resistance was spirited, and six guns played along the slope with grape; but in less than half an hour the French were close upon the summit, so swiftly did they scale the mountain, overthrowing everything that opposed their progress. The leading battalions immediately established themselves upon the higher rocks, and a confused mass wheeled to the right, intending to sweep the summit of the sierra; but at that moment Lord Wellington directed two guns to open with grape upon their flank, while a heavy musketry was poured into their front; and in a little time the 45th and 88th regiments charged so furiously that even fresh men could not have withstood them. The French, quite spent with their previous exertion, opened a straggling fire, and both parties, mingling together, went down the mountain side with mighty clamour and confusion; the dead and dying strewing the way, even to the bottom of the valley. Meanwhile the French who had first gained the summit had reformed their ranks, with the right resting upon a precipice overhanging the reverse side of the sierra; and thus the position was in fact gained, if any reserve had been at hand; but just then General Leith, who saw what had taken place, came on rapidly. Keeping the Royals in reserve, he directed the 38th to turn the right of the French; but the precipice prevented this; and meanwhile Colonel Cameron, informed by a staff officer of the critical state of affairs, formed the 9th regiment in line under a violent fire, and without returning a single shot ran in upon and drove the Grenadiers from the rocks with irresistible bravery and yet with excellent discipline; refraining from pursuit, lest the crest of the position should be again lost, for the mountain was so rugged that it was impossible to judge clearly of the general state of the action.
On that side, however, the victory was secure. Ney’s attack was equally unsuccessful. From the abutment of the mountain on which the light division was placed, the lower parts of the valley could be discerned. The tableland was sufficiently hollow to conceal the 43rd and 52nd regiments, drawn up in a line; and a quarter of a mile behind them, but on higher ground, and close to the convent, a brigade of German infantry appeared to be the only solid line of resistance on this part of the position. In front of the two British regiments, some rocks overhanging the descent furnished natural embrasures, in which the guns of the division were placed, and the whole face of the hill was planted with the skirmishers of the rifle corps and of the two Portuguese cacadore battalions. While it was yet dark, on listening attentively, we heard a straggling musketry in the deep hollows separating the armies; and when the light broke, the three divisions of the 6th corps were observed entering the woods below, and throwing forward a profusion of skirmishers soon afterwards. The French ascended with wonderful cheerfulness, and though the light troops plied them unceasingly with musketry, and the artillery bullets swept through their ranks, the order of advance was never disturbed. Ross’ guns were worked with incredible swiftness, yet their range was contracted every round, and the enemy’s shot came singing up in a sharper key, until the skirmishers, breathless and begrimed with powder, rushed over the edge of the ascent, when the artillery suddenly drew back, and the victorious cries of the French were heard within a few yards of the summit. Crauford, who, standing alone on one of the rocks, had been intently watching the progress of the attack, then turned and in a quick, shrill tone desired the two regiments in reserve to charge. The next moment eighteen hundred British bayonets went over the hill. Our shouts startled the French column; and yet so truly brave were the hostile leaders, that each man of the first section raised his musket, and two officers and ten men fell before them, so unerring was their aim. They could do no more; we were on them with resistless impetuosity. The head of their column was violently overturned, and driven upon the rear; both flanks were lapped over by our wings; and three terrible discharges at five yards’ distance completed the rout. In a few minutes a long line of carcases and broken arms indicated the line of retreat. The main body of the British stood fast, but several companies followed in pursuit down the mountain. Before two o’clock, Crauford having assented to a momentary truce, parties of both armies were mixed amicably together, searching for the wounded men. Towards evening, however, a French company having impudently seized a village within half musket-shot of our division, and refusing to retire, it so incensed Crauford, that, turning twelve guns on the village, he overwhelmed it with bullets for half an hour. A company of the 43rd was then sent down, who cleared the place in a few minutes.
BATTLE OF BUSACO.
An affecting incident, contrasting strongly with the savage character of the preceding events, added to the interest of the day. A poor orphan Portuguese girl, about seventeen years of age and very handsome, was seen coming down the mountain, and driving an ass loaded with all her property through the midst of the French army. She had abandoned her dwelling in obedience to the proclamation; and now passed over the field of battle with simplicity which told she was unconscious of her perilous situation, and scarcely understanding which were the hostile and which the friendly troops, for no man on either side was so brutal as to molest her. In this Battle of Busaco, the French after astonishing acts of valour, were repulsed. General Graind’orge, and about eight hundred men were slain, besides nearly five thousand wounded; while the loss of the allies did not exceed thirteen hundred. After this trial, Masséna judged the position of Busaco impregnable, and to turn it by the Mondego impossible, as the allies could pass that river quicker than himself. But a peasant informed him of the road leading from Mortagas to Boyalva, and he resolved to turn Lord Wellington’s left. To cover this movement the skirmishing was renewed with such vigour on the 28th, that many thought a general battle would take place; and yet the disappearance of baggage and the throwing up of intrenchments on the hill covering the roads to Mortagas indicated some other design. It was not till evening, when the enemy’s masses in front being sensibly diminished, and his cavalry descried winding over the distant mountains, that the project became quite apparent.