The 2nd corps, under Reynier, attacked the enemy's right: Ney their left and centre. The French troops were drawn up on stony ground, sloping steeply down to a great ravine which separated us from the Alcoba, which was lofty, steep, and occupied by the enemy. From their commanding position they could see all our movements, while we saw only their outposts half-way up the hill between the convent of Busaco and the ravine, which at this point was so deep that the naked eye could hardly make out the movements of troops; who were marching through it, and so narrow that the English bullets carried right across it. It might be regarded as an immense natural ditch, serving as the first line of defence to the natural fortifications formed by great rocks; cut almost into a vertical wall. Besides this, our artillery, engaged in very bad roads and obliged to fire upwards, could render very little service; while the infantry had to contend not only against a mass of obstacles and the roughest possible ascent, but also against the best marksmen in Europe. Up to this time the English were the only troops who were perfectly practised in the use of small arms, whence their firing was far more accurate than that of any other infantry.

Although you might expect that the rules of war would be alike among civilized nations, they do, as a fact, vary immensely even in identical circumstances. Thus, when the French have to defend a position they first garnish the front and flanks with skirmishers, and then crown the heights conspicuously with their main body and reserves, which has the serious inconvenience of letting the enemy know the vulnerable point of the line. The method employed in similar cases by the English seems to me far preferable, as was often demonstrated in the Peninsular War. After having, as we do, garnished their front with skirmishers, they post their principal forces in such a way as to keep them out of sight, holding them all the time sufficiently near to the key of the position to be able to attack the enemy at once if they come near to reaching it; and this attack, made unexpectedly upon assailants who have lost heavily and think the victory ready theirs, succeeds almost invariably. We had a melancholy experience of this at Busaco. In spite of the numerous obstacles which favoured the defence, the brave men of the 2nd corps had just succeeded, after an hour of desperate work, performed with really heroic courage, in scaling the mountain, when, as they arrived panting at the summit of the ridge, they found themselves in front of a hitherto unperceived line of English infantry. After receiving them at fifteen paces with an admirably aimed and sustained fire which stretched more than five hundred men on the ground, this line dashed at the survivors with the bayonet. The unexpected attack, accompanied by a storm of grape on their flank, shook some of our battalions; but they quickly rallied, and, in spite of their heavy losses, our troops, astonished but not disconcerted, charged the English line, broke it at several points, and carried six guns. But Wellington had brought up strong reserves, while ours were at the foot of the mountain, and the French, pressed on all sides, and compelled to give up the narrow ground which they occupied on the plateau found themselves, after a long and brisk resistance, driven in a heap down the steep descent up which they had climbed. The English lines followed them halfway down, firing volleys to which our men could not reply—and murderous they were. All resistance being useless in so unfavourable a position, the officers ordered the men to take skirmishing order about the broken ground, and under a hail of bullets they reached the foot of the mountain. At this point we lost General Graindorge, two colonels, eighty officers, and seven or eight hundred men.

After such a check prudence would have forbidden to send any troops weakened by heavy losses a second time against a triumphant enemy with his position unaltered; yet General Reynier ordered Foy's and Sarrut's brigades to return to the charge; and Masséna, who witnessed this madness, allowed the second attack. It met with the same fate as the first. While this was taking place on our left, fortune was not more favourable to the 6th corps on our right. Although it had been arranged to attack simultaneously at all points, and Masséna had repeated the order about seven o'clock at the moment of engaging, it was half-past eight before Ney set his troops in motion. He asserted afterwards that he had been delayed by the difficulty of the position on that side, and it certainly was greater than on the left. Our people had just made one great mistake in sending the 2nd corps into action before the 6th was ready; Ney made one similar when he engaged Loison's, Marchand's and Mermet's divisions without any cohesion. The troops attacked vigorously, and although entire files were swept away by cannon and musketry, the brigades of Ferey and Simon, with the 26th of the line, clambering up the steep rocks, flung themselves on the enemy's guns and captured three of them. The English, being reinforced, returned to the attack; General Simon, with his jaw smashed, fell, and was taken prisoner on one of the guns which he had just captured. Almost every field officer was killed or wounded, and three volleys at close quarters completed the rout of the French masses, who returned in disorder to their starting-point. Thus ended the principal fight. The losses of the 2nd and 6th corps were immense. They amounted to more than 5,000 men, including 250 officers killed, wounded, or prisoners. General Graindorge, Colonels Monier, Amy, and Berliet killed; two others wounded; General Simon wounded and taken prisoner; Generals Merle, Mancune, and Foy severely wounded, besides two colonels and thirteen majors. The enemy in their sheltered position lost far less heavily; but they admitted 2,300 men disabled. We learnt afterwards that if we had attacked the day before the English would have withdrawn without fighting, because 2,500 of their best troops were then on the other side of the Mondego, and only arrived at Busaco the night before the battle. Such was the result of the six days lost by Masséna at Viseu, and his hurry to return on the 26th to Mortagoa instead of reconnoitring the position.

Our efforts having thus utterly failed in face of a hillside so steep that an unburdened man would have climbed it with difficulty, it surely behoved our leaders to put a stop to firing which had now become useless. Yet a brisk file-firing went on all along the lines at the foot of the position, which our soldiers, in their excitement, were to assault anew. These small encounters with an enemy hidden by lofty rocks were very costly to us, and there was a general feeling that they should cease, though no one gave the formal order. Just then the two armies witnessed a touching incident, forming a contrast to the scenes of slaughter all round. General Simon's valet, hearing that his master had been left badly wounded on the summit of the Alcoba, tried to make his way to him; but the enemy, not understanding his motive for approaching their lines, fired on him repeatedly, and the faithful servant was compelled to return to the French outposts. As he was lamenting his inability to aid his master, the cantinière of the 26th, belonging to the brigade, took the things from the valet's hands, loaded them on her donkey, and went forward, saying, 'We will see if the English will kill a woman'; listening to no objections, she went up the hill, and, passed coolly between the lines of skirmishers, who, savage as they were, ceased firing till she was out of range. Presently she saw the English colonel, and explained what she had brought. He received her kindly, and had her taken to General Simon with whom she stayed several days, tending him to the best of her power, and only leaving him when the valet arrived. Then, getting on her donkey, she went through the enemy's army, by that time in retreat on Lisbon, and rejoined her regiment, without having received an insult of any kind, though she was young and very pretty. On the contrary, the English made a point of treating her with great respect. 1

The two armies maintained their respective positions; it was a sad night for us; the future appeared gloomy enough. At daybreak on the 28th, the Alcoba echoed with mighty cheering and the strains of the English military bands. Wellington was reviewing his troops, who were saluting him with their hurrahs; while the French at the foot of the mountain were in gloomy silence. Masséna should have mounted his horse then, reviewed his army, harangued his soldiers, until they replied by their cheers to the defiant enthusiasm of the enemy. The Emperor and Marshal Lannes would certainly have acted thus. But Masséna held aloof walking about all alone, and making no arrangements; while his lieutenants, especially Ney and Reynier, the very men who the day before had urged him to engage, saying that they would answer for victory, were loudly accusing him of imprudence in attacking a strong position like Busaco. When, finally, they joined the commander-in-chief, it was to propose that he should advertise our failure to the army, and all the world by abandoning Portugal and take the army back into Spain. Then old Masséna, recovering a little of the energy of Rivoli, Zurich, and Genoa, and many another memorable occasion, rejected their proposal as unworthy of the army and of himself.

The English have called the affair of Busaco a political battle, because the British Parliament, alarmed at the enormous cost of the war, appeared resolved to withdraw the troops from the Peninsula and content itself in future with supplying arms and ammunition to the guerrillas. As this plan tended to destroy Wellington's influence, he had resolved to prevent it from being carried out by replying with a victory to the fears of the English Parliament, and this determined him to await the French at Busaco. His plan succeeded, and Parliament voted further supplies for the war which was to be so disastrous to us.

While the marshal was discussing with his lieutenants, General Sainte-Croix came up. On seeing him everyone expressed regret that he had not been present the day before to act as the marshal's good genius. Masséna now understood the mistake he had made in not turning the enemy's left as we had advised him, and, on hearing the state of things from Masséna himself, Sainte-Croix advised him to revert to that plan. With the general's assent, he galloped off, accompanied by Ligniville and me, to Mortagoa, whither he sent for his brigade of dragoons. As we passed through the village we picked up the convent gardener, who, at sight of a piece of gold, consented to act as our guide, laughing when he was asked if there really existed a road to Boialva.

While Sainte-Croix's brigade, and a regiment of infantry led the way in this new direction, the 8th corps and Montbrun's cavalry followed close behind, and the rest of the army prepared to do the same. Urged by Sainte-Croix, Masséna had at last spoken with authority, and imposed silence on his lieutenants when they persisted in denying the existence of a pass on the right.

In order to conceal from the English the movement of such of our troops as were at the foot of the Alcoba, they did not march until night, and then in dead silence. But information was soon given by the despairing cries of the French wounded, whom we were under the sad necessity of abandoning. A great number of horses, and all the beasts of burden, were employed to carry the men whom there was hope of curing; but those who had lost their legs, or were otherwise severely wounded, were left lying on the dry heath, and as the poor fellows expected to have their throats cut by the peasants as soon as the armies were out of the way, their despair was terrible.

The French army had reason to fear that Wellington, seeing them execute a flank march so near him, would attack them vigorously. This might have led to the capture of Reynier's entire corps, which would be the last to leave its position, and would remain for some hours unsupported in presence of the enemy. But the English general had no time to think of turning the French rear-guard, for he had just learnt that he was being himself turned by the pass of which the French commander-in-chief had so long denied the existence. What actually happened was this. After we had marched all the night of the 28th, the gardener, going with the head of Sainte-Croix's column, brought us by a road practicable for artillery as far as Boialva, that is to say, to the extreme left flank of the English army, so that all the positions on the Alcoba had been outflanked without a blow, and Wellington, under pain of exposing his army to be taken in rear, had to abandon Busaco in haste, to regain Coimbra, and cross the Mondego there, with a view of retreating upon Lisbon, which he did with all speed. Our advanced guard only met with a small detachment of Hanoverian hussars posted at Boialva, a pretty village situated at the southern issue from the mountains. The fertility of the country gave hopes that the army might find abundant subsistence there. A shout of joy went up from our ranks, and the soldiers very soon forgot the fatigues and dangers of the previous days, perhaps also the unhappy comrades whom they had left dying before Busaco.

To complete the success of our movement, a good road joined Boialva with the village of Avelans on the road from Oporto to Coimbra. Sainte-Croix occupied this, and by a further piece of luck we discovered a second road from Boialva to Sardao, another village on the high road. At last, then, we had the proof of the existence of this pass, so obstinately denied by Ney, Reynier, and Pelet. Masséna must have reproached himself for having omitted to reconnoitre the strong position before which he had lost several thousand men, and which his army had now turned without meeting the least resistance. But Wellington was still more to blame for not having guarded that point, and surveyed the road leading to it from Mortagoa. It was of no use for him to say afterwards that he did not believe the road had been practicable for artillery, and that he had besides ordered Trant to cover Boialva with 2,000 militia. Such an excuse is not permissible for experienced fighting men. It might perfectly well be answered that as to the state of the road the English commander should have reconnoitred it before the battle, and that, in the second place, it is not enough for the chief of an army to give orders, but that he should make sure that they have been executed. Boialva is only a few leagues from Busaco, and yet Wellington never ascertained that this pass, so important to the safety of his army, had been guarded according to his orders; so that if Masséna had been better inspired, and had, during the night of the 26th, sent an army corps to Boialva to attack the left flank of the enemy while threatening him in front with the rest of his force, the English would certainly have suffered a sanguinary defeat. From all this we conclude that in the circumstances neither Wellington nor Masséna showed himself equal to his high reputation; and that they deserved the blame which their contemporaries addressed to them, and which history will confirm.