reat roads from Spain into
Portugal, but his thoughts were equally fixed upon the vast and famous
lines of Torres Vedras, which he was constructing for the defence of
Lisbon. His force, including the Portuguese regulars, did not exceed
50,000 men; that of the French under Ney, Reynier, and Junot consisted
of about 70,000, but they were not equally capable of being concentrated
on a single point. The Portuguese militia, too, were being gradually
disciplined, and the Portuguese civil authorities were being gradually
schooled into the new lesson of sweeping their own country bare of all
supplies before the coming French invasion. Wellington did not even
strike a blow to save Ciudad Rodrigo, which Massena took on July 10,
1810. But it was no part of his plan that Almeida should capitulate, as
it did shortly afterwards, partly owing to the accidental explosion of a
magazine, and partly as was suspected, to an act of treachery. Still,
Massena delayed until urged by Napoleon, and deceived by false
intelligence, he launched forth, at the beginning of September, on an
enterprise which proved fatal to his reputation. Both he and Wellington
issued appeals to the Portuguese nation, the contrast between which is
significant. The French marshal, echoing the prevailing note of his
master's proclamation, denounced Great Britain as the enemy of all
Europe; Wellington called upon the Portuguese to remember their actual
experience of French rapacity and outrage.

[Pageheading: _BUSSACO AND TORRES VEDRAS._]

The object of Massena was to reach Coimbra before Wellington. His
manoeuvres to outflank Wellington's left were skilfully devised, but
the British army marched steadily down the valley of the Mondego,
carrying with it the population of the district, and took its stand on
the ridge of Bussaco, north of Coimbra, barring Massena's progress.
There was fought, on September 27, 1810, a battle as deadly as that of
Talavera, and more decisive in its consequences. The French, as usual,
were the assailants; the English and the Portuguese stood at bay. Never,
in any of their brilliant victories, did French troops show more heroic
daring than in this assault under Reynier on the British right, and
under Ney on the British left. Both columns forced their way up bare
heath-clad slopes, and reached the summit, whence they were only driven
back after repeated charges. Their loss in killed and wounded exceeded
4,500, that of the allies was about 1,300