196 FRENCH AND ENGLISH AT BUSACO. [1810. famous Lines of Torres Vedras, as they are called, formed a formidable barrier. The summer of 1810 found Marshal Massena, of Wagram fame, in command of the French army destined by Napoleon for the conquest of Portugal. In the ranks were 70,000 hero veterans of Marengo and Austerlitz. "We will drive the English into the sea," they said with confidence, as they took fort after fort on their triumphant march. Wellington awaited them on the heights of Busaco, thus barring the road to Lisbon. "There are certainly many bad roads in Portugal, but the enemy has taken decidedly the worst," said Wellington. From their high perch, the English could see Massena's great host marching onwards, their bayonets gleaming, their helmets sparkling in the valley below. It was still cold It was still cold grey dawn on the morning of September 29, when the splendid French troops swept bravely up the steep face of the hill of Busaco. The English grimly awaited them at the top. Neither side was wanting in courage. But it was only a few minutes, before the unhappy heroes of Austerlitz were rolling down the steep face of Busaco, the slopes of which were soon thick with dead and dying. Massena now heard for the first time of the Lines of Torres Vedras, that tremendous barrier, which made it impossible for him to reach Lisbon. He 1812.] CIUDAD RODRIGO AND BADAJOZ. 197 had been warned of Wellington's work, but not of the existence of the hills. 66 Yes, yes," he said angrily, as the truth dawned on him, "Wellington built the works, but he did not make the mountains." For six weeks he camped hopelessly before the Lines, his army wasting with disease and starvation. Not till 30,000 soldiers had perished did he retreat, leaving Wellington triumphant behind his lines. The bitter winter passed; spring gave way to summer, summer to autumn, and still the conflict in Portugal raged on. It was not till the winter of 1812, that Wellington was able to turn his attention to Spain. His way was barred by the two great frontier fortresses of Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajoz, to the north and south of the river Tagus. Secretly and hastily, Wellington laid his plans to besiege the most northerly of these, Ciudad Rodrigo. It was strongly defended by the French, but the English smote it with strokes so furious and with such "breathless speed" that it fell in twelve days. It was midwinter; the rivers were edged with ice, snow lay on the ground, bitter blasts blew over the ramparts, the nights were black dark, but Wellington was undaunted. The siege began on January 8. It ended on the 19th with a tremendous assault. Up the black face of the grim fortress swarmed the English in the dark night. Racing over broken stones, scrambling over huge rocks, upwards they rushed till the sum 198 STORMING OF BADAJOZ. [1812. mit was gained and the French garrison driven back. "It was the rush of the English stormers up the breaches of Ciudad Rodrigo, that began the fall of the French Empire." Leaving a Spanish garrison in possession of the fortress, Wellington now with "heroic madness pushed on for the next attack. Badajoz stood on a rocky ridge of extraordinary strength. Twice the English had already tried to take it: twice they had failed. But Wellington was "strong in his own warlike genius, and in the quality of the troops he commanded." On the stormy night of March 17 the siege began. On April 6 an assault was ordered. At 10 o'clock on that still dark night the English troops stood firm and ready for the attack. No less than five assaults were to be made at different points: each was equally heroic in its mad rush to the top under fire. But hour after hour of that terrible night passed away, and still the stormers had not taken Badajoz. "Why do you not come into Badajoz," cried the French from the top, to the English below, who gazed upwards at the grim height bristling with French guns, unable to advance, refusing to retreat. Wellington watched, his face grey with anxiety, for the cost in human life was tremendous. It was not till daylight, that the men gained the heights, and the French commander, who had been badly 1812.] BATTLE OF SALAMANCA. wounded, surrendered. 199 In that wild night-fight Wellington had lost heavily; and as he gazed on the slope, strewn with the dead bodies of his soldiers, he burst into tears. 41. SPAIN FOR THE SPANIARDS. "Not stirring words, nor gallant deeds alone,— -CLOUGH (Wellington). MUCH had been done by Wellington, in the capture of these two strongholds, but much yet remained to do. Spain must be wrested from the grip of the French, and he must fulfil his commands. While Napoleon and his Grand Army were starting on their fatal march to Moscow, Wellington was already advancing into Spain. On July 22 he met the French army at Salamanca, a very old hillcity, famous in the days of Hannibal1 222 years B.C. This battle has been summed up by a Frenchman as the "battle in which 40,000 men were beaten in forty minutes." Wellington himself considered it one of his greatest victories. Let us watch him during the day of battle. Shortly after mid-day he entered a farmyard, where food was prepared for him. Stumping about and munching his food, 1 See Book I. chapter 46. 200 WELLINGTON'S VICTORY. [1812. Wellington was constantly looking at the French army, where important movements were taking place. Suddenly mounting in haste, he galloped to a spot of observation. Closing his spy-glass with a snap, he said to the Spaniard at his side, "My dear Alava, the French are lost.' The French Marshal had made a serious blunder. Wellington saw his chance had come. Ned," he cried to his brother-in-law in command of some troops, "d'ye see those fellows on the hill? At them, and drive them to the devil." Then to his nephew, afterwards the famous Lord Raglan, he said, "Watch the French through your glass: I am going to take a rest. When they reach that copse near the gap in the hills, wake me." He lay down in his cloak on the heath, among the sweet gum-cistus flowers, and was soon fast asleep. Between three and four, they wakened him as he had ordered. Before it was dusk, the French army was defeated. Through the moonlight Wellington pressed after the flying foe. The victory was complete the way to Madrid was clear. Just a month before Napoleon entered Moscow, Wellington entered Madrid. The Spaniards in the capital threw themselves weeping at his feet, hailing him as their deliverer from the French. But Spain was not yet delivered from the French. Large armies and tried generals from France still threatened the English, and Wellington had to leave Madrid. England was complaining bitterly |