Part 3
On that night the combined British and Portuguese armies were assembled in line, on the ridge of a lofty and precipitous range of hills, taking its denomination from the village and convent of Busaco. The Second division, under Lieutenant-General Hill, formed the right; the Light division, commanded by Brigadier-General Craufurd, was posted on the left near the convent; the Third division was in the centre, while the Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth occupied the intermediate spaces, and the First, together with the cavalry, were in reserve in the rear of the left. In their front, within little more than half a cannon shot distance, lay the army of Massena. The weather was calm and fine, and the dark mountains rising on either side were crowned with innumerable fires. The French were apparently all bustle and gaiety, and following their usual avocations with as much sang froid as if employed in preparing for a review, not a battle. Along the whole British line not a fire was to be seen; the soldiers in stern silence, examined their flints, cleaned their locks and barrels, and then stretched themselves on the ground to rest, each with his firelock within his grasp. In their rear, unsheltered by any covering but his cloak, lay their distinguished leader. During the night the French light troops, dropping by twos and threes into the lowest part of the valley, endeavoured to ascend the woody dells and hollows, and establish themselves near the British piquets.
An hour before day on the 27th of September, Lord Wellington passed through the ranks on foot. He passed in comparative silence, for the English soldiers seldom indulge in those boisterous demonstrations of joy so common with the troops of other nations, and indeed rarely are known to huzza, except when closing with the enemy; but wherever he was recognised, his presence was felt as the sure presage of another victory, to be gained by the men whom he had already led in so many fields of triumph. To be beaten when _He_ commanded, seemed, in the opinion of his soldiers, next to impossible. As the light appeared, the fire of musketry commenced in the deep hollows which separated the two armies. Shortly afterwards two French columns, throwing forward a cloud of skirmishers, emerged from the hollow beneath.
On the left, Marshal Ney advanced against the Light division under Brigadier-General Craufurd, and, in spite of the fire of the riflemen, broke through all opposition, and mounted the crest of the ridge, to remain there, however, only for a moment, before the bayonets of the Forty-Third, Fifty-Second, and Ninety-Fifth drove him down again in confusion, leaving the ground covered with dead and wounded, and the French General Simon, who led the attack, together with many other officers and soldiers, prisoners.
In the mean time the left centre of the British army was assailed with equal impetuosity by the second corps of Massena’s army under General Reynier. The disposition of the Third division was as follows:—four companies of the Forty-Fifth and EIGHTY-EIGHTH occupied the crest of the hill to the left; the Seventy-Fourth was considerably to the right of these two battalions, the Eighth Portuguese a little to the right and rear, the Fifth and Eighty-Third British were to the left of all, and the Ninth and Twenty-First Portuguese on a rising ground to the right of the division. Major-General Lightburne and Colonel Mackinnon commanded the two British Brigades, and Colonel Champelmond the Portuguese, the whole division being under the orders of Major-General Picton. Lord Wellington, stationed on a rising ground near the EIGHTY-EIGHTH, had a full view of these dispositions.
The advance of Reynier’s corps was made with the impetuous rush on which the French troops so much depend, and a crowd of sharp-shooters pressed forward in front of the EIGHTY-EIGHTH; Lieutenant-Colonel Wallace saw he was about to be attacked by a column; a misty cloud had settled on the mountain, and he sent Captain Dunne to observe the movements of the enemy on his right, which was a little exposed.
The light troops, after a severe struggle, succeeded in driving back the enemy, but were repulsed themselves in turn. Lieutenant-Colonel Wallace with the utmost coolness, took two men from each of his battalion companies, and placing them under the command of Lieutenant Mackie, reinforced the advance, and thus for some time again kept the French in check; at length, however, they were compelled to retire before the overwhelming force that pressed upon them. The situation was in the highest degree critical, and demanded decision and coolness; the French light troops were rushing on with loud shouts, closely followed by a column of infantry; General Picton was not within reach at the instant, and the EIGHTY-EIGHTH was without orders. At this moment Colonel Wallace addressed his men.
“The time so long wished for by you and by me is at length arrived; you have now an opportunity of distinguishing yourselves. Be cool, be steady, but above all, pay attention to my word of command—you know it well. You see how these Frenchmen press on; let them do so; when they reach a little nearer us I will order you to advance to that mount—look at it lest you might mistake what I say. Now, mind what I tell you; when you arrive at that spot, I will charge, and I have now only to add, _the rest_ must be done by yourselves—press on them to the muzzle—I say, CONNAUGHT RANGERS! press on the rascals!”
This animating address was received by the men, not with shouts and hurrahs, but still better, with a deep and silent attention, indicating firmness of decision and earnestness of purpose.
The regiment was drawn up in line, and many men had already fallen; the colours carried by Ensigns Joseph Owgan and William Grattan, were pierced by numerous bullets, and three of the colour-serjeants were wounded, when Captain Dunne returned, and reported to Colonel Wallace, that besides the mass in his front, which was only the advance of a column about to assail him, a body of riflemen had occupied a cluster of rocks on the right of the regiment, and the main body of the enemy was moving towards an open space which separated the EIGHTY-EIGHTH from the Forty-Fifth regiment. Cool and unruffled amongst the dangers that surrounded him, Lieutenant-Colonel Wallace asked Captain Dunne if he thought half the battalion would be sufficient to do the business. “No,” was the reply, “you will want every man you can bring forward.” “Very well,” said Colonel Wallace, “I am ready—Soldiers; mind what I have said to you—I have nothing more to add—it now rests with yourselves.”
Lieutenant-Colonel Wallace then threw the battalion into column right in front, but had scarcely reached the rocks, when a murderous fire was opened upon him; without losing his presence of mind for a moment, he filed the grenadiers and two battalion companies out of the column, ordering them to carry the rocks at all hazards, while with the remainder of the battalion he pressed on against the main body of the enemy.
The Eighth Portuguese regiment had not yet opened its fire; it was too distant: four companies of the Forty-Fifth were engaged in an unequal combat, bravely but ineffectually disputing every inch of ground with a far superior force by which they were assailed: their brave commander, Major Gwynne, had already fallen, and these companies were on the very brink of being annihilated, when the EIGHTY-EIGHTH rushed to their assistance, and the two corps precipitated themselves into the midst of the French column, consisting of their Second, Fourth, and Thirty-Sixth regiments, and Irish brigade, and forming the advance of Reynier’s division; they received one dreadful discharge of musketry, but only one; before a second could be thrown in, they had passed through the French column, and completely overthrowing it, drove it down the mountain side with a mighty clamour and confusion, covering the ground with the dead and dying, even to the bottom of the valley.
In the mean time, the three companies of the EIGHTY-EIGHTH which had been detached to drive the French riflemen from the rocks on the right, had been engaged in a severe and desperate struggle. In the advance they were exposed to the deliberate aim of practised marksmen ranged amphitheatrically rank above rank, and protected by the rocks of which they had just taken possession; arrived at the point of contest, both officers and men were soon engaged in a hand-to-hand fight. The French defended themselves with more than usual desperation, for they were aware that escape was out of the question, and that they had no alternative between repelling their assailants and being slain on the spot, or hurled headlong down the precipitous rocks on which they had established themselves. Twenty minutes, however, sufficed to decide the question, and to teach the heroes of Marengo and Austerlitz[7] that, with every advantage of position on their side, they must yield to the _Rangers of Connaught_.
During this short but arduous conflict Captain Dansey was severely wounded, and Captain Dunne had a hair-breadth escape of swelling the return of killed. He had made a cut with his sabre at one of the French riflemen, but struck short, the man being above the reach of his weapon; the Frenchman’s bayonet, on the other hand, was within a few inches of Captain Dunne’s breast, and his finger on the trigger; one word was shouted by Captain Dunne—it was the name of a serjeant in the regiment, “BRAZEL!” He heard the call through all the din of battle, and rushing forwards, although he fell upon his face in making the lunge, buried his halberd in the Frenchman’s body, and rescued his officer from certain death.
Lord Wellington, who had been a near spectator of the achievements of the EIGHTY-EIGHTH, bestowed the warmest encomiums on the regiment. He galloped up to it, and taking Lieutenant-Colonel Wallace by the hand, said, “Wallace, I never saw a more gallant charge than that just now made by your regiment.” In his public despatches he repeated the expressions of approbation which he had used during the heat of the combat, as the following extracts will show:—
“One division of French infantry arrived at the top of the ridge, when it was attacked in the most gallant manner by the EIGHTY-EIGHTH Regiment, under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Wallace.”... “In these attacks Lieutenant-Colonel Wallace, &c. &c., distinguished themselves.”... “I have also to mention in a particular manner, the conduct of Captain Dansey of the EIGHTY-EIGHTH Regiment.”... “And I beg to assure your Lordship, that I never witnessed a more gallant attack than that made by the EIGHTY-EIGHTH, Forty-Fifth, and Eighth Portuguese regiments, on the enemy’s division which reached the ridge of the Sierra.”
The Colonel of the EIGHTY-EIGHTH, Marshal Beresford, joined in the praises bestowed upon his regiment, and recognised the faces of some of the veteran soldiers who had served in India, Egypt, and South America: these men crowded around him with that affectionate familiarity which the high-wrought feelings of such a moment, the sense of a community in past dangers, from which rank gave no protection, and a companionship in present safety, sometimes permitted even from the private soldier to the general.
The cluster of rocks, so lately the scene of deadly conflict, presented a singular spectacle even to those whom use had familiarized with such sights. At their foot many of the EIGHTY-EIGHTH were stretched on the field, while in the chasms were to be seen numerous Frenchmen still in the very attitude in which death had overtaken them; some reclining backwards against a crag as if asleep, others leaning forwards over a projecting stone, as in the act of firing; while at the foot of the precipice, on the further side, were many who had been dashed to pieces in their vain endeavours to escape.
The instances of individual bravery displayed by the officers and men of the EIGHTY-EIGHTH at _Busaco_ were numerous. Colonel Wallace, finding the charger on which he was mounted at the commencement of the day, was terrified by the firing, and reared frequently, at once abandoned his horse, and fought for some time on foot at the head of his men. Captain Dansey, who commanded one of the companies that attacked the rocks, and who was severely wounded, distinguished himself so as not only to obtain the immediate commendation of his Colonel and the admiration of his comrades, but was also particularly noticed in the despatches of the Commander-in-Chief. Lieutenant William Mackie, to whom Lieutenant-Colonel Wallace confided the command of the battalion-men sent early in the day to support the light infantry, displayed all the courage and coolness necessary in so critical a moment; he was frequently nearly surrounded by the enemy, but escaped unhurt, and, on rejoining the regiment, was loudly cheered by the men. Lieutenant Heppenstall, a young officer, whose first appearance under fire was on this occasion, was frequently mixed with the enemy’s riflemen, and shot two of them, one an officer. Lieutenant William Nickle, serving with the light company, was deliberately singled out by a Frenchman whose third shot passed through his body, but without killing him; as he was proceeding to the rear the same Frenchman sent a fourth shot after him, which knocked off his cap, cheering at the same time. “Get on, Nickle,” said Heppenstall, “I’ll stop that fellow’s crowing.” He waited quietly till the man approached within sure distance, and then revenged his wounded comrade by shooting the Frenchman dead. Corporal Thomas Kelly, of the fourth company, (the same man who shot the French officer in the retreat through the wood near the Alberche at Talavera,) was severely wounded in the thigh at the commencement of the charge against the French column, but continued to run with his company down the hill, until he fell through exhaustion and loss of blood.
The loss of the regiment at Busaco amounted to nine officers and one hundred and twenty-four non-commissioned officers and privates killed and wounded. The officers killed were Major Silver, Lieutenant H. Johnston, and Ensign Leonard; the wounded, Major Macgregor, Captains Dansey, M‘Dermot, and Bury; and Lieutenants Fitzpatrick and Nickle.
Unable to overcome the allied army in combat, the French commander turned its flank; when Lord Wellington retired to the celebrated lines of TORRES VEDRAS, where he opposed a resistance which compelled the French Marshal, notwithstanding his superior numbers, to relinquish his design upon Lisbon. The EIGHTY-EIGHTH formed part of the troops which occupied the town and lines of Torres Vedras. The weather was unusually wet, and the army being but indifferently supplied with the materials necessary for the construction of good huts, suffered much from the inclemency of the season; yet, notwithstanding the fatigues of the severe campaign it had gone through, the unfavourableness of the weather to health, and the living principally on salted provisions, of which the rations served out to the army chiefly consisted, the regiment continued in the most effective state. The French, however, suffered much greater privations, and eventually they were forced to retire.
On the 14th of November, Marshal Massena (Prince of Esling) left his position during the night, and took the road to Santarem. This operation was performed under cover of a dark and stormy night, and the enemy effectually succeeded in deceiving the British piquets by substituting _straw figures_, in place of his veteran tirailleurs, admirably appointed with caps and accoutrements, and by this ruse succeeded in effecting his movement without loss; verifying an old remark, that “_men of straw_,” by putting on a good appearance, often deceive their neighbours.
The allied army moved forward; the head-quarters were established at Cartago, and the third division occupied the village of Togarro. The French commander was subsequently forced to retire from his position.
[Sidenote: 1811]
In the pursuit of Massena towards the frontiers of Portugal, the Third division was not much engaged with the enemy, but the continual marches to turn the flanks of the French army subjected it to great fatigue. In the course of these marches and constant skirmishes, the regiment lost a most intelligent and enterprising officer, Lieutenant Heppenstall, already mentioned; he fell in the action of FOZ-D’ARONCE, on the 15th of March, 1811. He was buried at the foot of a pine, near the spot where he fell, under the direction of Dr. Arthur Stewart.
In the action at _Sabugal_, the EIGHTY-EIGHTH, though present, was not actually engaged, a severe storm of snow and hail, which fell just at the moment the Third division, having issued from the woods on the enemy’s right, was about to charge, completely hiding the French corps (General Reynier’s) from view, and giving its commander an opportunity of retiring unattacked.
On the first two days of _Fuentes d’Onor_, it was in position, but on the third and decisive day of that glorious battle it had a brilliant opportunity of distinguishing itself, and earning another honorary inscription for its colours.
The village of _Fuentes d’Onor_, which is situated on some low ground, with an old chapel and a few buildings on a craggy eminence at one end, had been the scene of a long, protracted, and sanguinary contest on the 3rd of May; the lower part of the village had been several times taken and retaken, and during the night each army occupied that part of the village which had remained in its possession when darkness and mutual exhaustion put a temporary stop to the battle. The following day was wholly passed in reconnoitering and manœuvres; the British force in Fuentes d’Onor was considerably reinforced from the First division, and amongst other regiments sent to aid in its defence were the Seventy-First and Seventy-Ninth. Soon after day-break on the 5th, the attack was recommenced by the French with increased numbers and renewed fury. Lord Wellington observing the serious efforts of Massena upon this point, and fully appreciating its importance, ordered the Twenty-Fourth, Forty-Fifth, Seventy-Fourth, and EIGHTY-EIGHTH British, together with the Ninth and Twenty-First Portuguese regiments, to its support.
It was now about half-past twelve o’clock; the combat in the village had lasted without intermission for eight hours during a day of oppressive heat, and our ammunition was nearly expended. The Highlanders were driven to the church-yard at the top of the town, where they were fighting with the French grenadiers over the tomb-stones and graves, while the Ninth French light infantry had penetrated as far as the chapel, only a short distance from our line, and were preparing to débouche upon our centre. Lord Wellington was on the spot, and surveyed what was passing with the immovable coolness which always characterized him; the troops in the town were nearly worn out in the contest and about to retire, when the EIGHTY-EIGHTH was ordered to their support, and changed the face of affairs. Colonel the Honourable Edward Pakenham, who was in the hottest of the fire, had inquired what regiments were in reserve; and when the EIGHTY-EIGHTH was named amongst others, asked, “Is Wallace with the EIGHTY-EIGHTH?” and on being replied to in the affirmative, said, “Tell him to come down then, and drive these fellows back; he will do the thing properly.”
The battalion was ordered to advance in column of sections, left in front, in double-quick time. As it passed down the road leading to the chapel it was warmly cheered by the troops lying at each side the wall, but the soldiers gave no cheer, no reply; they were placed, and they felt it, in a situation of great distinction; they were about to fight not only under the eye of their own general and his army, but in full view, also, of the French army; their feelings were wound up to the highest pitch of enthusiasm, but there was no huzzaing, no noise, or talking in the ranks; the men, headed by their brave Colonel, stepped together at a smart pace under a very heavy fire of artillery and musketry, as steady and as silent as if on parade. The company which led this attack was commanded by Ensign William Grattan. When they came within sight of the French Ninth regiment, which was drawn up at the corner of the chapel ready to receive them, he turned round to observe the state of his men; the soldiers understood his look and action, and replied to it by a cheer, the first they had given, and which, so given, showed plainly that their hearts were in a right state.
The enemy had not remained idle spectators of this movement; a battery of eight pounders advanced at a gallop on the opposite side of the river, and opened a heavy fire on the EIGHTY-EIGHTH, hoping to annihilate it, or at least to check its progress and cripple its efforts, but the battalion, regardless of the grape which was showered upon it, continued to press on, and, in fact, suffered but slightly from the cannonade to which it was exposed. Arrived within a few yards of the chapel they were met by the Ninth French regiment, supported by some hundreds of the Imperial Guard, who rushed on with their usual impetuosity and bravery, uttering loud shouts and throwing in their fire as they advanced; the EIGHTY-EIGHTH replied with the bayonet, and rapidly closing with their enemies, so totally overthrew them, that they were not able to rally afterwards. The exhausted but brave troops that had been so seriously engaged all the morning, now joined in the pursuit, and in less than fifteen minutes from the time the EIGHTY-EIGHTH commenced its attack there was not a French combatant in the village: their whole force was driven across the rivulet, and many of the British in their pursuit fell on the French side of the stream.
About one hundred and fifty of the Old French Guard in their flight ran down a street which was one of the few that had escaped the fury of the morning attack, and the further end of which, unknown to them, had been barricaded by our troops the night before. Shut up thus in a complete _cul-de-sac_, the result may be easily imagined;—it was a frightful slaughter, but it was unavoidable. Troops advancing to assault a town, flushed, indeed, with victory, but uncertain whether that victory may not be wrenched the next minute from their grasp, have no time to deliberate. Some of the French Guard sought a vain refuge in bursting open the houses and ascending the chimneys, but their enemies were too close at their heels for them to succeed. This attack was headed by Lieutenant George Johnston, who, not satisfied with clearing one street, immediately proceeded to the next, where the enemy still made a show of resistance, and at length carried away by feelings very natural at such a moment, he climbed up to the top of a stone cross, erected in a square at the river’s edge, and taking off his hat waved it in defiance towards the enemy. The French, however, made no further effort to recover the place, but confined themselves to a heavy cannonade which they continued to pour into the streets, utterly regardless of its murderous effects upon their own wounded. From this cannonade the men of the EIGHTY-EIGHTH were ordered by Colonel the Honourable Edward Pakenham to shelter themselves, when they took a position behind a wall in the rear of the chapel, and soon afterwards evacuated the town, which was occupied by the light division under Brigadier-General Robert Craufurd.