This battle, fought upon the 27th September 1810, was one in which the losses of the French, and of the British and Portuguese army, commanded by Lord Wellington, were not of that magnitude to give it a first-rate place on the battle list;[[6]] this same battle of Busaco was, nevertheless, one of the most serious ever fought in the Peninsula, and for this reason—it was the first in which the Portuguese levies were brought under fire, and upon their conduct in this, their maiden effort against their veteran opponents, depended the fate of Portugal, and the Peninsula also. Such being the case, it must ever be classed as a very important event, and one that should be recorded by the historian with great care and fidelity, yet, strange to say, there is not, that I have read, any faithful report of it in print. In vain do we turn even to Colonel Napier’s splendid history of the war in the Peninsula in expectation of finding a correct account; no such account is there to be found. In all, therefore, that I am going to relate as to the part which the 3rd Division took in it, I shall keep as close as I possibly can to what I know to be the facts.
[6]. The loss of the French being 4486 killed, wounded, and prisoners, including five generals, viz. General Graindorge killed, Generals Foy, Maucune, and Merle wounded, and General Simon made prisoner, while that of the allied army was no more than 1143, amongst which number not one general officer had fallen; the total loss of the two armies, counting about one hundred thousand combatants, was under six thousand.
On the morning of the 27th the haze was so thick that little could be seen at any great distance, but the fire of the light troops along the face of the hill put it beyond doubt that a battle would take place. Lord Wellington was close to the brigade of Lightburne, and from the bustle amongst his staff, it was manifest that the point held by Picton’s division was about to be attacked. Two guns belonging to Captain Lane’s troop of artillery were ordered upon the left of the 88th Regiment, and immediately opened their fire, while the Portuguese battery, under the German Major Arentschildt, passed at a trot towards the Saint Antonio Pass, in front of the 74th British.
A rolling fire of musketry, and some discharges of cannon, in the direction of Saint Antonio, announced what was taking place in that quarter, and the face of the hill immediately in front of the brigade of Lightburne, and to the left of the 88th Regiment, was beginning to show that the efforts of the enemy were about to be directed against this portion of the ground held by the 3rd Division.
The fog cleared away, and a bright sun enabled us to see what was passing before us. A vast crowd of tirailleurs were pressing onward with great ardour, and their fire, as well as their numbers, was so superior to that of our advance, that some men of the brigade of Lightburne, as also a few of the 88th Regiment, were killed while standing in line; a colour-sergeant named Macnamara was shot through the head close beside myself and Ensign Owgan. Colonel King, commanding the 5th Regiment, which was one of those belonging to Lightburne’s brigade, oppressed by a desultory fire he was unable to reply to without disturbing the formation of his battalion, brought his regiment a little out of its range, while Colonel Alexander Wallace, of the 88th, took a file of men from each company of his regiment, and placing them under the command of Captain George Bury and Lieutenant William Mackie, ordered them to advance to the aid of our people, who were overmatched and roughly handled at the moment. Our artillery still continued to discharge showers of grape and canister at half range, but the French light troops, fighting at open distance, heeded it not, and continued to multiply in great force. Nevertheless, in place of coming up direct in front of the 88th, they edged off to their left, out of sight of that corps, and far away from Lightburne’s brigade, and from the nature of the ground they could be neither seen nor their exact object defined; as they went to their left, our advance inclined to the right, making a corresponding movement; but though nothing certain could be known, as we soon lost sight of both parties, the roll of musketry never ceased, and many of Bury’s and Mackie’s men returned wounded. Those two officers greatly distinguished themselves, and Bury, though badly wounded, refused to quit the field. A soldier of Bury’s company, of the name of Pollard, was shot through the shoulder; but seeing his captain, though wounded, continue at the head of his men, he threw off his knapsack, and fought beside his officer; but this brave fellow’s career of glory was short, a bullet penetrated the plate of his cap, passed through his brain, and he fell dead at Bury’s feet. These were the sort of materials the 88th were formed of, and these were the sort of men that were unnoticed by their General!
Lord Wellington was no longer to be seen, and Wallace and his regiment, standing alone without orders, had to act for themselves. The Colonel sent his captain of Grenadiers (Dunne) to the right, where the rocks were highest, to ascertain how matters stood, for he did not wish, at his own peril, to quit the ground he had been ordered to occupy without some strong reason for so doing. All this time the brigade of Lightburne, as also the 88th, were standing at ordered arms.
In a few moments Dunne returned almost breathless; he said the rocks were filling fast with Frenchmen, that a heavy column was coming up the hill beyond the rocks, and that the four companies of the 45th were about to be attacked. Wallace asked if he thought half the 88th would be able to do the business. “You will want every man,” was the reply.
Wallace, with a steady but cheerful countenance, turned to his men, and looking them full in the face, said, “Now, Connaught Rangers, mind what you are going to do; pay attention to what I have so often told you, and when I bring you face to face with those French rascals, drive them down the hill—don’t give the false touch, but push home to the muzzle! I have nothing more to say, and if I had it would be of no use, for in a minit or two there’ll be such an infernal noise about your ears that you won’t be able to hear yourselves.”