And this state of ignorance with regard to the southern theatre of operations was destined to last till late in the afternoon. Either Cole and Picton themselves, or the officers to whom they entrusted their dispatches, were sadly lacking in a sense of the value of the prompt delivery of news. Wellington rode along the Bidassoa for many a mile, till he came on Hill still holding the position of Irurita, and entirely unmolested by the French. There were now in line the sadly reduced remnant of the British brigades which had fought at Maya, and da Costa’s and Ashworth’s Portuguese, with the three 7th-Division battalions which had saved Stewart from disaster. The total made up about 9,000 bayonets. Hill estimated[902] D’Erlon’s force at 14,000 men—a miscalculation, for even after the losses at Maya there were still 18,000 French in line. The immediate result of the error, however, was beneficial rather than otherwise, for Wellington considered that Hill was in no particular danger, and let him stand, while he himself rode southward towards the lofty Col de Velate, to seek for intelligence from the Pampeluna front in person, since his lieutenants had vouchsafed him none. He reached Almandoz, near the crest of the Pass, in the afternoon, and resolved to establish his head-quarters there for the night, as it was conveniently central between the two halves of his army.

Soon after his arrival Wellington, being much vexed at receiving no news whatever from the south, resolved to send the 6th Division toward Pampeluna by the Col de Velate as a matter of precaution—they were to march to Olague in the valley of the Lanz. The 7th Division was to close in, to take up the ground where the 6th had been placed, and cover Hill’s left flank[903]. That haste in these movements was not considered a primary necessity, is shown by the fact that Pack and Dalhousie were told that they need not march till the morning of the 27th. For the enemy’s surprising quiescence at the head of the Maya pass had reassured Wellington as to any danger on this side. If D’Erlon, indeed, possessed no more than 14,000 men, Hill with the aid of the 7th Division could easily take care of him. And the Light Division might still be left near Lesaca, as a reserve for Graham in case any new mass of French troops should take the offensive on the Bidassoa.

D’Erlon’s conduct on the morning of the 26th was explicable to himself, though inexplicable to his enemy. He had been engaged in a most bitter fight, in which he had lost 2,000 men and more. Two British divisions, so he wrote to Soult, were in front of him—the 2nd and the 7th. For he had taken Barnes’s brigade for the whole of Dalhousie’s unit—the effect of its desperate charge almost justified him in the hypothesis. These troops had been forced to a strategic retreat, but by no means put out of action. They must have been joined, ere now, by the Portuguese column which Darmagnac had sighted on its approach to Ariscun. But there were also troops on his right, of whom he must beware: he knew that Vera and Echalar had been held in strength, and Graham might send reinforcements in that direction, and assemble a heavy force on his flank. Hence he resolved to discover how matters lay by reconnaissances, before committing himself to the march down into the Bastan and then up the Col de Velate which his orders prescribed.

‘In my position on the pass of Maya,’ he wrote, ‘I had on my right all the forces which the enemy had in line as far as St. Sebastian. I had to be prudent, in order not to expose myself to a check in the Bastan, in which the enemy was holding the strongest position. I therefore determined to leave Abbé and Maransin in the pass, with orders to send out reconnaissances towards Santesteban, Echalar, and Mount Atchiola. They would profit by the halt to distribute the half-ration of food which had just come up from Ainhoue. I sent Darmagnac down the road to Ariscun, with orders to push a vanguard to Elizondo, and to explore towards the passes of Ispegui and Berderis, to see if there were any hostile force still on my left.’

An advance of six miles to Elizondo, and that by a mere advanced guard, was all the movement that D’Erlon made this day. It was not till the afternoon that he learnt, by Abbé’s reconnaissances, that there were still allied troops on his right—apparently the Light Division opposite Vera, and the 7th at Sumbilla—while Darmagnac reported that the eastern passes were clear, but that Hill was lying across the road beyond Elizondo in great strength. In the evening D’Erlon heard that Soult had forced the pass of Roncesvalles, and was about to advance: this success, he deduced, would make the enemy in front of him give way, in fear that his positions might be taken from behind. So he thought himself justified in ordering a general advance for the morning of the 27th—though Maransin was still to remain for a day at Maya, lest any allied force might move up from the west against the pass. Thus it came that for the whole of July 26th Hill was unmolested, and Soult’s plan for a rapid concentration round Pampeluna became almost impossible to carry out. A whole day had been wasted by D’Erlon, though he was not without his extenuating circumstances.

Wellington meanwhile received at Almandoz, probably at about 8 p.m., the long-expected news from the South. They were, as we know, most unsatisfactory: Cole reported from Linzoain, on the Roncesvalles-Pampeluna road, that he had been driven out of the pass by an army of 35,000 men or more, that he had not yet been joined by the 3rd Division, and was still retreating towards Zubiri, where he understood that Picton would meet him and take over the command. His view of the situation was shown by a remark that if he had not been superseded, and had been compelled to retreat past Pampeluna, he supposed that the road towards Vittoria would have been the right one to take[904]. This most exasperating dispatch only reached Wellington that night by mere chance. The officer bearing it was going to Lesaca, having no knowledge that Army Head-Quarters had left that place: at Lanz he happened to meet the cavalry brigadier Long, whose squadrons were keeping up the line of communication between the two halves of the Army. Hearing from the aide-de-camp of the sort of news that the letter contained, Long opened it and made a copy of it, which he sent to Sir Rowland Hill, before permitting the bearer to go on. Hill received the transcript at Berueta at 6 p.m., and very wisely forwarded it to Wellington at Almandoz. The original was carried on by Cole’s messenger to Santesteban, and did not reach Wellington that night.

Thanks to Long’s and Hill’s intelligent action, the Commander-in-Chief could grasp the whole unpleasant situation at 8 p.m. on the 26th. He sent orders to Picton at once, telling him that the enemy must at all costs be detained: that considering the force at his disposal, he ought to be able to check Soult for some time in front of Zubiri: that he would be joined at once by one of O’Donnell’s divisions from the Pampeluna blockading force, and shortly by reinforcements coming from the Bastan (the 6th Division). Wellington himself was intending to ride over to the right wing by the next afternoon. Till he should arrive, Picton must send reports every few hours[905]. Unfortunately, Cole and Picton had got things into an even worse state than could have been expected. Just as Wellington was drafting these orders for an obstinate rearguard action, they were at 8.30 p.m. preparing to evacuate the Zubiri position, and setting out on a night march for Pampeluna[906].

To explain this move we must go back to the state of affairs at Roncesvalles on the very foggy morning of July 26th. Cole, Byng, and Morillo had abandoned, as we have already seen[907], their position on Altobiscar and the Linduz under cover of the night, and had all fallen into the Pampeluna road, Ross’s brigade descending from the heights by the Mendichuri pass, the other three brigades and Morillo moving by the chaussée past the Abbey and Burguete. Anson’s brigade formed the rearguard, not having been engaged on the previous day. Morillo’s outlying battalion at the Foundry of Orbaiceta safely joined in by a hill path. Campbell’s Portuguese retired by the way that they had come, along the Path of Atalosti, but instead of returning to the Alduides followed a mule track to Eugui in the upper valley of the Arga.

Cole’s long column, after completing its night march, took a much-needed rest for many hours along the high road near Viscarret. It saw nothing of the French till the early afternoon, when an exploring party of chasseurs ran into the rearguard of Anson’s brigade.

What had Soult been doing between early dawn, when his outposts ascertained that there was no enemy in front of them, and three o’clock in the afternoon, when his cavalry rediscovered Cole? To our surprise we find that he had been attempting to repeat his error of the preceding day—that of sending a whole army corps along a rugged mule track, similar to the one on which Reille’s column had been blocked by Ross’s brigade. His original order on the 25th had been that Reille, after seizing the Linduz, should turn along the ‘crest of the mountains’, occupy the Atalosti defile, and push ever westward till he could threaten the Col de Velate, the main line of communication between the two sections of Wellington’s army. One would have supposed that the events of the 25th on the Linduz, where one British brigade had checked for a whole day Reille’s column of 17,000 men in Indian file, would have taught him the impracticability of such plans. But (as Soult’s malevolent critic, quoted already above, observed) when the Marshal had once got his plan drawn up on paper it was like the laws of the Medes and Persians, and must not be altered[908].