Four companies of the 45th were now firing at Merle’s two columns as they approached the crest and Wallace brought up the 88th in support. The French had become confused in the mist, and by the numerous trees and rocks in their path, with a large body of skirmishers becoming detached from the main attack and taking station in a large outcrop of rocks along the incline. As he formed his line into column to march towards the 45th and the 8th Portuguese Regiment, these skirmishers began to fire upon them. Undeterred, Wallace detached three companies including his grenadiers to dislodge them and marched to meet the main attack. A vicious exchange of musketry volleys was in progress and, though a body of Portuguese militia fled, the 8th and the 45th steadfastly continued to fire until the 88th came up. Grattan recalled how:
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!152
After a brief exchange of fire, the 88th combined with the 45th to form a joint line and mounted a bayonet charge down the hillside. The French columns partly comprised men of the 36th and 70th Line Regiments, who resisted fiercely as a savage struggle ensued on the rock-strewn hillside. But their exertions in climbing the ridge had tired them and the men of the ‘Fighting’ Third Division soon gained the upper hand. The 36th were decimated in the fight and their colonel died fighting under the bayonets of the wild Irishmen of the Connaught Rangers as they swept down into his disordered ranks. The French broke and fled down the hill, pursued by a mixture of Portuguese and British regiments, who chased them to the edge of the hill, retiring only when French artillery began to fire upon them.
Wellington and his staff had observed the fight from close by and he rode up and congratulated Wallace on the performance of the 88th. It had been a valiant charge in the face of superior numbers and the outcome had been far from certain when they had rushed the French:
Marshal Beresford… expressed some uneasiness when he saw his regiment about to plunge into this unequal contest; but when they were mixed with Reynier’s men and pushing them down the hill, Lord Wellington, tapping him on the shoulder, said, ‘Well, Beresford, look at them now!’153
With both his columns in full retreat, Reynier angrily ordered General Foy to make better time up the slope and restore the situation with his brigades. Offended by this tirade, having only been ordered to support the attack, Foy rode angrily to the head of the column, urging his men onwards. Cannon fire rained down upon them as they climbed but they reached the crest. Men of the Portuguese 8th and 9th Regiments opposed them, but were soon driven back by the sheer volume of their fire. Now that the location of this attack was known, General Leith had sent elements of his Division to support Picton, since there appeared to be nothing to his front. As the French were deploying into line on the plateau, the brown-coated Portuguese were retiring in considerable disorder, but two battalions of Leith’s 9th and 38th Regiments appeared on the French flank and rear. Having believed that he was attacking the right flank of the Allied position, their arrival was an unpleasant surprise to Foy, just at the moment when victory seemed in sight:
Meanwhile, my heroic column, weakened by the climb, reached the plateau; it was covered with enemy troops; those on our left made a movement and we were overwhelmed with battalion fire. Upon our front, the enemy, hidden behind rocks, assassinated us with impunity. The head of my column was thrown, in spite of me, to the right, and I was unable to deploy them and disorder ensued…154
Fired upon from their front, flank and rear the French could not stand and began to flee down the hillside. As Foy desperately tried to rally them, he received a bullet in the arm and was swept along with them as the retreat turned into a rout. Reynier’s assault had failed.
Ney had waited patiently as the battle began and, in accordance with instructions, did not order his men forward until he saw Merle’s column approaching the plateau through the slowly dissipating haze. Two of his divisions were to advance up slopes on either side of the Coimbra road over gentler slopes than Reynier’s Corps were currently attempting. General Loison’s division was to advance on the village of Sula and afterward assail Craufurd’s positions where the ground rose steeply, whilst Marchand would take his column towards the convent. As the attack began Ney brought up a small battery of guns to just beyond Moura village. These fired on Craufurd’s positions and provided the only truly effective French artillery support during the entire battle.
A steep ravine lay between the two huge French attack columns as they marched upward and, in the rocks and pinewoods of the lower slopes, their skirmishers met with a strong chain of riflemen and light infantry. This comprised men from the 95th Rifle Regiment and the 3rd and 4th Caçadores, who fell back slowly before them, contesting every inch of the rough ground. Ample cover was available to the riflemen and the tirailleurs could make little headway against them, forcing Loison to commit elements from his leading brigades to support them. By sheer aggression and weight of numbers the French light troops fought their way onwards, knowing they had to get close to negate the rifle’s range advantage. Even so, the Allied skirmish line fell back slowly and inflicted great losses.
The village of Sula was taken but now Allied artillery began to concentrate their fire on the exits of the hamlet as the French advanced beyond it. Ross’s battery, firmly ensconced within a natural rock embrasure near the convent, slammed round shot down the ridge into the advancing formations and Cleeve’s German battery began to open up on Sula’s approaches. Craufurd’s main position was on a steep rocky knoll where the road curved around the hillside before ascending toward the summit. The French column aimed for the small windmill where he had his command post, struggling to surmount the sharply rising ground before it. Craufurd’s two main line regiments lay in the hollow road behind him and as the French began to emerge over its lip he waved his hat crying: ‘Now 52nd, avenge the death of Sir John Moore!’155
Breathless from their climb, the French were startled to see the red-coated ranks rise up suddenly before them from their concealed position. Already in some disorder, having struggled over uneven ground before climbing the incline, chaos set in as their officers frantically tried to get them into a firing line. Craufurd’s two battalions delivered a shattering volley of musketry into their ranks from not much more than ten paces away, bringing dozens of men to the ground. Major Arbuthnot of the 52nd now wheeled three companies to fire into the column’s right flank, while the 43rd did the same on the left. Caught in this semi-circle of fire, the French reeled under the fusilade and, after a brief exchange of musketry, turned and fled down the hillside, some losing their footing and tumbling down the slope. With their blood up the British infantry charged after them. Small groups of French infantry resisted as the fight degenerated into a brutal hand-to-hand struggle with swords and bayonets, but the French had no chance and were soon overcome. The fugitives were chased as far as Sula before their officers could restrain their men and General Simon was wounded and taken prisoner by a private of the 52nd during the running fight. Behind the Allied line, groups of wounded men collected, grimly waiting their turn to be taken to the surgeons. Yet their numbers were nothing compared to the steady stream of Frenchmen staggering or being carried down the hill and through the village. The hillside was strewn with dead men and wounded crying for aid.
Meanwhile Marchand’s division worked their way up the ridge towards the convent. Portuguese light infantry contested their advance and it was only with difficulty that the French voltigeurs ousted them from the small pinewoods in the area. As the Cagadores fell back, the column came under the converging fire of three artillery batteries placed at the head of the ravine above them. Braving this fire they struggled upwards until opposed by four Portuguese battalions of Pack’s Division before the conven
t. Deploying into line they exchanged volleys with the Portuguese, the hillside becoming wreathed in smoke as they fired upwards. Yet the Portuguese stubbornly and firmly held their ground and General Maucune was wounded during attempts to storm the position. With one column routed and Marchand encountering serious opposition, Ney ordered him back. The convent area was clearly held in great strength and, scanning the ridge, Ney could see redcoats far to the left of Reynier’s attack, revealing that he had been mistaken in judging the position of the enemy’s right. He still held Mermet’s division in reserve, but refused to commit more men against what appeared to be an insurmountable position. As the French trailed back down the ridge, the battle petered out into skirmishing along the slopes.
With the severe losses they had sustained, Massena agreed with Ney’s assessment and never committed Junot’s Corps to the battle. The French had lost nearly 5,000 men, with a remarkably high proportion of officers amongst them. In their valiant efforts to encourage the men General Graindorge had been killed and generals Foy, Merle, Maucune and Simon wounded. Fifty-two other officers had been wounded and II Corps had sustained slightly higher losses than VI Corps in the assault. In contrast, the Allied ‘butcher’s bill’ was mercifully low. Wellington’s Army had suffered 1,252 casualties, with about half being British and half Portuguese. Only two officers above the rank of major had been injured, Portuguese Brigadier Champlemond and Colonel Barclay of the 52nd, and none had been killed.156
The slopes were now littered with dead and wounded men, with scenes of carnage where the French columns had met the Allied lines. As he walked the battlefield that afternoon, Grattan observed that the dead had been rapidly stripped of anything remotely useful as both armies searched the slopes for their wounded. Going over the ground where his regiment had repelled the French:
The rocks which had been forced by the three companies of the 88th presented a curious and melancholy sight; one side of their base strewed with our brave fellows, almost all of them shot through the head, while in many of the niches were to be seen dead Frenchmen, in the position they had fought; while on the other side, and on the projecting crags, lay numbers, who in an effort to escape the fury of our men, were dashed to pieces in their fall!157
Commissary August Shaumann of the King’s German Legion had been on the reverse slope of the ridge during the battle and afterwards came to observe the field. He recorded how, for the most part, the British and French fought without personal animosity and how unofficial truces were rapidly agreed:
With the help of my telescope I was almost able to distinguish each man. In the ravine there was a small stream, at which, with the most profound harmony, and as if nothing had happened, both French and English soldiers fetched water, and, as a sign of very special mutual esteem, exchanged their forage caps.158
Massena had suffered a defeat but, despite a superlative Allied defence, had been repelled by the nature of the terrain as much as enemy action. Looking at the ridge today it is difficult to imagine contemplating an assault on such a strong position, but Massena was not entirely at fault. He had been let down by his subordinates with their poor reconnaissance and assessment of the Allied troops. Had the point of Reynier’s attack truly been the Allied right flank, the outcome might have been different. As it was, even if this attack had been successfully established on the summit, they would have had at least 15,000 troops in their rear when they attempted to roll up the Allied line. Though it was true that the capability of the Portuguese Army was in doubt, Ney, Junot and Reynier had all faced the British before. With the benefit of their combined experience against British infantry, renowned for their defensive capability, they should have given better advice. Wellington was elated at the stubborn tenacity of his Portuguese troops but even he had been unsure of them in their first major trial.
The performance of the French troops had been incredible. They had reached the crest by a superhuman effort and only an incredibly tenacious defence had driven them back. Yet they had fought at a major disadvantage. The hillside progressed upwards in tiers, leading them to hope that each crest would be the last. Under the withering fire of skirmishers and cannon, their officers had understandably forced the pace and they had emerged tired and breathless at the summit to be met by the fresh Allied troops. Even so, they had achieved wonders against a nearly insurmountable position. Denied the use of his superiority in cavalry, Massena had also been handicapped by the inability to deploy artillery to successfully weaken the Allied line due to the length and height of the ridge. Wellington’s choice of defensive ground had been faultless and Massena would not underestimate him again.
That evening, the gloomy French camp heard the sound of military bands playing on the ridge along with the Allied soldiers regaling Wellington with loud huzzahs as he rode along the line. Marbot believed that Massena should have mounted his horse and tried to inspire the troops with a rousing speech, as Napoleon would have done in his place, but he remained despondent. His subordinates, having previously urged him to attack, now magnified the scale of the reverse and advised him to retreat from Portugal altogether. This shook him out of his dark mood: ‘Then old Massena 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 himself.’159 He also spurned proposals to turn and march on Oporto. He had come to Portugal to take Lisbon at the Emperor’s express command; not waste time on secondary objectives that would only prolong the war. The arrival of General Saint-Croix brought support for those counselling the possibility of turning Wellington’s left. Accordingly, a new reconnaissance was mounted and the existence of a road between Mortagoa and Boialva was confirmed. The French set off that night:
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… 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.160
These were the last troops to set out on the march and, despite French fears, Wellington was too cautious to mount an attempt on the rearguard once he perceived that the French were pulling out. General D’Urban recalled that the Allies were somewhat surprised that he failed to resume his attack:
There was every reason to expect a general and persevering attack this morning, for it had not been the habit of Massena to give up his point. Towards daybreak appearances were suspicious for instead of becoming fainter the Enemy’s fires became brighter. At 8 o’clock he was discovered in march and by 11 o’clock was evidently retiring.161
He went on to record that Wellington believed that the French had adopted one of three possible strategies. They could head north for Oporto to occupy the northern reaches of Portugal and see out the winter there, edge around the Serra de Busaço and head for Coimbra or turn south to cross the Mondego and march on Coimbra from that direction. Wellington had instructed the Ordenanza to destroy bridges in their path should they turn north, and the other two possibilities both entailed a march on Lisbon, which was already anticipated. Regardless of which course was taken D’Urban confidently predicted: ‘…we are again prepared for him and his wiles won’t gain him a single march.’162 Wellington had hoped that he might halt the French advance completely at Busaço and though he was well aware of the possibility of the French outflanking him, it was a disappointment nonetheless. He had little choice but to withdraw. However, he had achieved his objective of delaying the enemy and now resumed his withdrawal towards the capital, much to the annoyance of some officers who, emboldened by their victory, believed he should have attacked. The French encountered no resistance beyond a party of hussars at Boialva. The sight of more fertile land, suggesting the possibility of
better supplies, heartened the dispirited troops and their officers made a great deal of the Allied withdrawal to inspire them.
As the 88th passed through Alcobaça the next day they found that the inhabitants were still there. They had not bothered to hide or destroy their food and possessions, in the hope that the armies would bypass them due to their location. Most of the villagers fled at their approach and the officers ordered the place stripped of anything useful to the enemy. Supply mules and carts were piled high with provisions and those who expressed qualms over such ‘looting’ were reassured that they were acting under Wellington’s orders.163 They wanted the French to encounter a desert, devoid of food and shelter. However, this event was not uncommon and trying to find the entire village supplies, hidden by the peasantry, in only a few hours would ensure that much was left behind for the French.
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