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"But whate'er to-morrow bring us, it shall shed no gloom to-night,

For a British soldier does not flinch from thought of death in fight;

No better ending could we wish, no worthier do we know,

Than to fall for King and country, with our face towards the foe;

And if we go, our friends who stay will keep our memory bright,

And will drink to us in silence by many a camp-fire's light.

Hurrah, hurrah, &c."

When the last chorus had ceased, the boys, who had had a long march

that morning, and were thoroughly tired, stole quietly off to bed,

but it was not till long after they had gone to sleep that the jovial

party round the fire broke up, and that Sam was relieved from his

duties of concocter of punch.

CHAPTER XII.

BUSACO AND TORRES VEDRAS.

Instead of pressing forward upon his invasion of Portugal, Massena

prepared to besiege Almeida, and for a month the British and

Portuguese army remained in their position within a few hours' march

of that town. Wellington expected that Almeida would be able to

resist for two months, and hoped to find some opportunity for falling

suddenly upon the besiegers; but even a resistance of two months would

have made it so late in the season that Massena must have postponed

his invasion until the next spring.

Upon the morning of the 26th of August the French batteries opened

fire, and from Guarda the dull, heavy roar of artillery could be heard

all day. As darkness fell, the officers of the Rangers were, as usual,

assembling round their fire, when the earth seemed to shake beneath

their feet, and a flash like that of summer lightning lit the eastern

sky. "What can that be?" was the general exclamation. A minute later,

and a deep, heavy, prolonged roar sounded in their ears--then all was

quiet.

"That is a big magazine," Captain Manley said, "and I'm afraid it's

the town, for it sounded too heavy for a mere field magazine. If it be

the town, you'll see it won't hold out much longer; even if the actual

damage is not very great, a great explosion always damages the morale

of a defense, and in that case we shall have Massena upon us, and

there will be wigs on the green ere many days are over."

Captain Manley's conclusions were correct. The magazine of Almeida had

exploded with terrific effect. Only six houses were left standing in

the town, a considerable portion of the ramparts was thrown down, and

five hundred people killed on the spot. The stones were hurled in all

directions with such force that forty of the besiegers were hurt in

the trenches.

Colonel Cox, who commanded, endeavored to rally the panic-stricken

garrison, and upon the following morning attempted to negotiate with

Massena, who sent an officer to demand instant surrender.

Defense was, in fact, impossible, but Colonel Cox attempted to

negotiate, because he hoped that Wellington would at once advance to

his rescue. His intentions were frustrated, however, by the treachery

and mutiny of the principal Portuguese officers under him, and the

French at once took possession of the ruins.

The British army fell back a short distance when the news of the

disaster arrived, and a fortnight of great anxiety and watchfulness

passed, as it was not certain by which road or roads Massena would

advance.

It was not until the 18th of September that Massena fairly commenced

his march, having chosen the road from Visen through Martagoa, and the

next day the news reached the Rangers that the British army was to

concentrate on the heights of Busaco.

"So we are going to have a fight for it," Carruthers said to the boys,

as the officers assembled in readiness to take their places when the

troops had fallen in. "What will be the end of it?"

"We shall lick them," an old captain said, "though they are two to

one, and then they will march round us somehow, and then we shall have

to fall back in all haste on Lisbon, and embark there, and we shall

eat our Christmas dinner in England."

There was a general murmur of assent, for at that time the belief was

almost universal in the British army that they would be forced to

abandon Portugal.

"I do not know," Major Fanshawe said. "I heard last night, from a

man who has just returned from sick leave at Lisbon, that there are

thousands of peasants employed under our engineers in getting up some

tremendous works some fifteen miles this side of Lisbon. I should not

be surprised yet if Massena finds the chief a nut too hard to crack,

with all his force."

"I have heard something about these works at Torres Vedras," Captain

Manley said, "a mere rumor; still I believe there must be something in

it. Wellington has only some twenty-five thousand British troops, and

as many Portuguese, while Massena has over a hundred thousand veterans

at his command. Our game would be hopeless unless we have something to

fall back on. No; I have every faith in our general. But there goes

the bugle."

On the 24th the Rangers, with the rest of Picton's division, arrived

on the crest of Busaco, where Cole's and Craufurd's divisions arrived

on the same day. This position was one of immense strength, being a

long ridge, with a very deep valley in front. Upon the opposite side

of this ravine the slope was as steep and sharp as that of Busaco

itself, so that the opposite crest was within easy cannon shot.

The enemy, in order to attack the British position, would have to

descend into the bottom of this steep ravine, and then climb up the

precipitous ascent, to meet the British soldiers awaiting them, fresh

and unshaken, at the top. So strong, indeed, was the position that

the English generals were doubtful whether Massena would venture to

attack.

Upon the 25th Craufurd moved his division forward, and would have

repeated his mistake of the Coa had not Wellington himself gone

forward and recalled the troops, bringing them off with difficulty

in the face of the advancing masses of the French. By three in the

afternoon, 40,000 French infantry were on the ridge opposite Busaco,

and it appeared probable that the battle would take place that

afternoon, in which case the British position would have been

precarious, for neither Spencer's, Hill's, nor Leith's divisions were

up.

Massena, however, was miles behind, and Ney, who commanded the

advance, could not attack without orders; thus, the moment favorable

for the French passed by. When Massena arrived next day, the British

divisions were all up and in their places, and the long crest of

Busaco swarmed with troops. Hill occupied the right across the road to

Pena Cova, then came Leith's 5th division, then came Picton with the

3d division, with Spencer's division, the 1st, next to him. On a

plateau in front of a convent lay Craufurd and Pack, while Cole, with

the 4th division, was on the left.

The 27th and 28th were passed in comparative tranquillity, the rival

armies surveying each other across the chasm. From the woods far below

came up the constant crack of the rifle, as the skirmishers on either

side pushed each other backwards; and on the evening of the 28th this

fighting increased so much in strength and intensity, that the British

troops were some time under arms in expectation of a night attack, for

the enemy's riflemen had pressed far up on the hill-side towards the

British lines. As the night went on, however, the fire ceased, and the

dark ravine between the two long lines of bright watch-fires became

hushed and still.

The Rangers were with Picton's division, and were out as an advance

half way down the ravine, two companies being down in the bottom as

skirmishers. Morning was but just breaking when a heavy fire burst out

in front. The regiment sprang to its feet, and prepared for action.

It was not long in coming, for the fire rolled rapidly up the hill

towards them, and the skirmishing companies came running back, pressed

by a heavy column of the enemy. Reynier had formed in two divisions,

one of which was now pressing forward against Picton's right, while

the object of the other was to gain the crest still farther to the

right, and so place themselves between Picton and Leigh. The whole

regiment was at once engaged, but the French assault was too powerful

to be resisted, and the Rangers and the other regiments of the

advanced brigade gave way sullenly, while the French eagerly pressed

up the hill, although a battery opened upon them from the crest, while

they were unsupported by their own artillery.

"Golly, Massa Peter, dese fellows fight berry hard; look as if dey

lick us dis time," the black, who was in Peter's company, said to him

as the regiment retreated.

"The battle has only begun yet, Sam. We have plenty of fresh troops at

the top of the hill."

"Good ting, dat, Massa Peter. Berry hard work, dis--climb hill, carry

kit, fire gun, dodge de bullets, all sam time."

"You didn't dodge that bullet sharp enough, Sam," Peter said with a

laugh, as the negro's shako was carried off with a ball.

"Him cum too fast. Dere, you frog-eating thief." he said angrily as he

fired his musket at an advancing foe. "Dat serve you right," he went

on to himself as the Frenchman fell. "You spoil Sam's hat. Dis colored

gentleman catch cold first time him come on to rain."

The French continued their impetuous advance. Picton's right, as they

climbed the hill, fell back towards his center, and in half an hour

from the first shot being fired the head of the French column had won

the crest, and, being between Leigh and Picton's divisions, had cut

the British position. Then the column nearest to Picton's division

began to wheel to its right, so as to sweep the crest.

"Lie down, the Rangers; every man down," shouted the colonel, and the

breathless men threw themselves panting on the ground. A wild Irish

shout was heard behind them as they did so, and a tremendous volley of

musketry rang over their heads, and then the 88th and a wing of the

45th dashed across them, and, with fierce cheers, charged that portion

of the column engaged in wheeling. Breathless and in disorder from

their prodigious efforts, the French were unable to resist this fresh

attack. In an instant the British were among them, and mixed up in

wild confusion, fighting hand to hand, the mass of combatants went

mingled together down the hill. Nor was the success of the French

column which had gained the crest of long duration, for Leith brought

up one of his brigades; Colonel Cameron, with the 9th Regiment, dashed

at the enemy with the bayonet, without firing a single shot, while

the 38th attacked their flank; and the French, unable to resist the

onslaught, relinquished their position and retreated down the hill.

Nor upon the French right had Ney's attack proved more successful.

Napier thus describes the combat in this quarter of the field:--"When

the light broke, three heavy masses detached from the sixth corps were

seen to enter the woods below, and to throw forward a profusion of

skirmishers; one of them, under General Marchand, emerging from the

dark chasm and following the main road, seemed intent to turn the

right of the light division; a second, under Loison, made straight up

the mountain against the front; the third remained in reserve. Simon's

brigade, leading Loison's attack, ascended with a wonderful alacrity,

and though the light troops plied it incessantly with musketry, and

the artillery bullets swept through it from the first to the last

section, its order was never disturbed, nor its speed in the least

abated. Ross's guns were worked with incredible quickness, yet their

range was palpably contracted every round; the enemy's shots came

ringing up in a sharper key, the English skirmishers, breathless

and begrimed with powder, rushed over the edge of the ascent, the

artillery drew back, and the victorious cries of the French were heard

within a few yards of the summit. Craufurd, standing alone on one of

the rocks, had been intently watching the progress of their attack,

and now, with a shrill tone, ordered the two regiments in reserve to

charge. The next moment a horrid shout startled the French column, and

eighteen hundred British bayonets went sparkling over the hill. Yet so

brave, so hardy were the leading French, that each man of the first

section raised his musket, and two officers and ten men fell before

them. Not a Frenchman had missed his mark. They could do no more. The

head of their column was violently thrown back upon the rear, both

flanks were overlapped at the same time by the English wings, three

terrible discharges at five yards' distance shattered the wavering

mass, and a long line of broken arms and bleeding carcases marked the

line of flight."

Ney did not renew the attack, and with some desultory skirmishing the

battle ended at two o'clock, and an hour's truce enabled both parties

to carry off their wounded.

Small parties of the French came in contact with the English

skirmishers during the afternoon, but the battle of Busaco was over.

"Don't call dat much of battle," Sam said discontentedly. "Just little

fierce fight, berry out of bref, and den, just as second wind came,

all ober."

The battle of Busaco was indeed one of secondary importance. The

losses were not great on either side, although that of the French was

fully threefold greater than that of the British, as the former were

exposed during their attack to the grape and shell of the British

guns, while the French guns afforded no assistance to their infantry.

The French loss, in killed and wounded and prisoners, did not exceed

4000, of which only 800 were killed. Nor was any strategical advantage

gained by the battle, for the French, upon the following day, found

a road across the hills to the British left from Martagoa through

Bonzalva.