Busaco is an instructive battle in more ways than one. From Wellington's side it is an instance of a political battle, as Napier calls it, of political motives, not military ones, determining a general's action. On Massena's side it illustrates the important lesson that faulty information may easily be ruinous. Not only had he taken the wrong route, believing it to be the best; he also engaged under the impression that the only other alternative was a retreat nearly to Almeida, whereas all the time there was a road over the mountains to his right, which would have enabled him to turn Busaco. On the night of the battle he found this out, and masking the movement next day with a skirmishing attack on the position, he threw his whole army into this narrow cross-road. Had the English general been less hampered by the political conditions, he might well have made Massena rue his audacity in trying so proverbially dangerous a thing as a flank march in presence of the enemy. As it was he felt bound simply to resume his retreat, of which, once in the open country, there could be no cessation, until the lines of Torres Vedras were reached. Massena had never even heard of the lines till a short time before he came in sight of them; it is strange that so little was known about them, seeing that no such elaborate works had been constructed in Europe since the days when the Romans, in the decline of the empire, built their great walls in Northumberland and elsewhere to keep out the barbarians. Massena reconnoitred them from end to end, in the hope of finding a weak spot; but the more he looked at them, the more hopeless the prospect of an assault appeared, for every day in fact added to their strength. After a month he withdrew to Santarem, high up the Tagus, where subsistence was procurable, and there remained all the winter. Wellington was far too severely hampered by politics to attack him. The Portuguese nation was as a whole sound in its patriotism, and the troops only wanted to be taught; but the politicians were selfish, narrow-minded and factious to an incredible extent, and Wellington found it harder to master the politicians than to stop Massena. Moreover the English government was all this time in a state of perplexity and weakness,[70] and gave the army in Portugal nothing which could on any pretence be withheld.
Thus March arrived before reinforcements reached Wellington; and then Massena, whose army was greatly diminished through sickness, began his retreat, despairing of reinforcements reaching him in time, or of any effective diversion being caused by the French army of Andalusia. Massena's retreat was conducted with great skill, and it was not till he was nearing Almeida that the pursuing army was able to gain any great advantage over him. Wellington was in truth at the beginning anxious to relieve Badajos, which Soult was besieging with an army from Andalusia, and which was at first gallantly defended by the Spanish garrison. But the commandant having been killed, his successor, traitor or coward, instantly surrendered. The disaster having happened, Wellington followed up Massena more vigorously, and when he had pushed him far enough, detached Beresford with a considerable English force to combine with the Spaniards, and attempt to recover Badajos. He himself pressed Massena back to Ciudad Rodrigo, and blockaded Almeida, accepting battle rather than abandon the prey which had nearly fallen into his hands. The battle of Fuentes d'Onoro, fought on May 5, 1811, was not particularly creditable to either of the rival generals. Tactically it was a drawn battle, strategically it was a distinct victory for Wellington; for Massena, probably piqued at hearing of his supercession by Marmont, retired after the action, leaving Almeida to its fate. The commandant however was equal to the occasion; blowing up the works as completely as he could, he led the garrison out, and with a mixture of skill and good fortune made his way in safety through the besieging lines. Almeida was of no immediate use, but it remained in Wellington's hands, something at least of a barrier against a fresh invasion of Portugal.
Meanwhile Beresford had commenced on the very day of the battle of Fuentes d'Onoro a so-called siege of Badajos. He had no proper siege train, and must have failed in any case: but within a week Soult was approaching, and the attempt had to be abandoned. Beresford very unwisely yielded to the eagerness of his own troops and the wish of the Spanish generals, and agreed to accept battle—very unwisely, for nothing could be gained, and much might be lost. Even victory would be contrary to Wellington's principle of not expending a British soldier unless for an adequate end. It is true that he had 30,000 infantry, while Soult had only 19,000; but a very large majority of these were Spanish troops, nearly starved and miserably led: on the other hand Soult was superior in guns, and had double the number of cavalry. Moreover Beresford mismanaged his position. He occupied a line of high ground with the fordable stream of the Albuera in front of it. As the road which formed his line of retreat led away in rear of his left centre, he perhaps naturally placed his English and Portuguese on the left, leaving the Spanish general Blake, over whom he had no authority, to occupy the centre and right, which was posted on the famous hill for which the battle of Albuera will ever be remembered. So far he had perhaps done wisely, but he neglected to occupy a detached hill on the other side of the stream opposite his right; and behind this hill Soult was able to mass his troops unobserved. The battle (May 16, 1811) began as Beresford expected, with an attack on the bridge and village of Albuera in front of his left; but this was only a feint. Simultaneously more than half the French army moved out from under cover of the hill that Beresford had ignored, and were soon in line across his right flank. Blake refused to believe the evidence of his senses until too late; the Spaniards were only beginning to form a new front to the right when the French were upon them. Naturally they were thrown into confusion. Stewart coming up with a British division to their support was in so great a hurry that he did not form line until he reached the summit level of the hill. A mass of French cavalry, their approach unseen in the obscurity of a heavy storm, charged the leading brigade as it was forming, and nearly destroyed it. Fortunately the same darkness concealed this blow from Soult, and the rest of the division had time to reach the hill and renew the fight; part of the Spanish troops also were brought into action. Both sides fought desperately, but the line formation of the English gave them some little advantage over the close columns of the French. Beresford for a moment wavered, but recovered himself, and acquiesced in the order already given in his name, to bring up practically the last reserves to sustain the conflict on the hill. The chief stress fell on the fusileer brigade, consisting of the 7th and 23rd regiments under General Myers, and led into action by General Cole commanding the division, which mounted the hill just in the nick of time.
"At this time six guns were in the enemy's possession, the whole of Werlé's reserves were coming forward to reinforce the front column of the French, the remnant of Houghton's brigade could no longer maintain its ground, the field was heaped with carcases, the lancers were riding furiously about the captured artillery on the upper parts of the hill, and behind all, Hamilton's Portuguese and Alten's Germans, now withdrawing from the bridge, seemed to be in full retreat. Soon however Cole's fusileers, flanked by a battalion of the Lusitanian legion under Colonel Hawkshawe, mounted the hill, drove off the lancers, recovered five of the captured guns and one colour, and appeared on the right of Houghton's brigade precisely as Abercrombie passed it on the left.
"Such a gallant line, issuing from the midst of the smoke and rapidly separating itself from the confused and broken multitude, startled the enemy's heavy masses, which were increasing and pressing onwards as to an assured victory: they wavered, hesitated, and then vomiting forth a storm of fire, hastily endeavoured to enlarge their front, while a fearful discharge of grape from all their artillery whistled through the British ranks. Myers was killed, Cole, the three colonels, Ellis, Blakeney, and Hawkshawe, fell wounded, and the fusileer battalions, struck by the iron tempest, reeled and staggered like sinking ships. But suddenly and sternly recovering they closed on their terrible enemies: and then was seen with what a strength and majesty the British soldier fights. In vain did Soult with voice and gesture animate his Frenchmen; in vain did the hardiest veterans break from the crowded columns and sacrifice their lives to gain time for the mass to open out on such a fair field; in vain did the mass itself bear up, and fiercely striving, fire indiscriminately upon friends and foes, while the horsemen hovering on the flank threatened to charge the advancing line. Nothing could stop that astonishing infantry. No sudden burst of undisciplined valour, no nervous enthusiasm weakened the stability of their order, their flashing eyes were bent on the dark columns in their front, their measured tread shook the ground, their dreadful volleys swept away the head of every formation, their deafening shouts overpowered the dissonant cries that broke from all parts of the tumultuous crowd, as slowly and with a horrid carnage it was pushed by the incessant vigour of the attack to the farthest edge of the height. There the French reserves mixed with the struggling multitude and endeavoured to sustain the fight, but the effort only increased the irremediable confusion, the mighty mass gave way and like a loosened cliff went headlong down the steep: the rain flowed after in streams discoloured with blood, and eighteen hundred unwounded men, the remnant of six thousand unconquerable British soldiers, stood triumphant on the fatal hill."
Soult was defeated: he had lost a third of his army, and did not see his way to renew the conflict, though his still formidable cavalry and artillery would have enabled him to do so with good prospects. Beresford deserves credit for holding his ground boldly, though he was well aware that his crippled army was incapable of fighting again: to retreat was to render inevitable the destruction which a confident attitude might and did avert.
Wellington, relieved from any further anxiety in the north, came to Beresford's support. During the rest of the year he continued his system of remaining practically on the defensive, while giving the French as much annoyance as possible. He attempted a fresh siege of Badajos, which had the effect of bringing Marmont down from the Douro basin, and Soult back from Andalusia. Then retiring to a position to cover Elvas he awaited attack, which the French marshals, hampered by various difficulties, declined to make. Later in the year he blockaded Ciudad Rodrigo, compelling the French armies to concentrate for its support, and again retiring before superior force. His political difficulties, strictly so called, were as great as ever, perhaps greater: for the Portuguese authorities took advantage of his successes to assume that the war was over and that the British army might be got rid of, and the home government supported him but feebly. But his army was more and more inured to war, and his Portuguese well worthy to stand in line with the English. Moreover Napoleon was already beginning to withdraw troops from Spain for the huge army he was organising against Russia. It was practically certain, when 1811 closed, that 1812 would see Napoleon engaged in a gigantic contest with Russia. The day for which Wellington had been waiting patiently was beginning to dawn.