Hill’s advance having begun, and made good progress, Wellington was watching for the two other movements which ought to have coincided with the attempt to cross the river at Nanclares for the frontal attack. They had neither of them developed as yet: at least nothing was to be seen of the 3rd and 7th Divisions on the down-slope of the lofty Monte Arrato, and there had not yet been any heavy burst of cannonading from the upper Zadorra (which was not visible from the spot where the Commander-in-Chief had placed himself), to tell that Graham was engaged.

The reason for the comparative silence in this quarter was undoubtedly the wording of Wellington’s orders to Graham, which left so much to the judgement of the commander of the great turning column. He had been placed, almost from the start of his march, in the presence of a secondary problem. Reille, as we have seen, had been given on the 20th the charge of the upper Zadorra and the great road to France. Hoping that he had only Longa’s Spaniards in front of him, and judging that it would be well to keep them as far from the road and the river as possible, the commander of the Army of Portugal had placed Sarrut’s division and a brigade of Mermet’s light horse in an advanced position a mile and more in front of the river, on a ridge flanking the main Bilbao road, above the village of Aranguiz. Lamartinière’s division and Boyer’s and Digeon’s dragoons had been left on the nearer bank. When therefore Graham, marching down from Olano, neared Aranguiz, he found a considerable French force blocking the way. Remembering his orders to look to the right, to adapt his movements to those of the troops in that direction, and not to be drawn into unnecessary fighting, he halted for some time, to see how matters were going on the critical wing, and meanwhile deployed alongside of Longa’s men in his front, Pack’s Portuguese brigade and Anson’s light dragoons, with the 5th Division in support, before Sarrut’s position. He also detached Bradford’s Portuguese to his right, with the idea of getting in touch with the troops in that direction. Reille, who was present in person with his advanced guard, saw with dismay the depth of the column descending upon him, and recognized that he must fall back and hold the line of the Zadorra, the only possible front on which he could oppose such an enemy. About midday or a little later Graham ‘thought himself justified in advancing, in order to draw the enemy’s attention to his right, and so assist the progress of the army from the side of Miranda (i. e. Hill’s column), where the enemy seemed to be making an obstinate resistance in the successive strong positions which the country afforded[563].’ The very moment that Graham sent forth Longa and Pack to advance, the French retired by order, not without some skirmishing, in which the 4th Caçadores stormed the hill just above Aranguiz. But neither side had any appreciable losses.

Graham could now advance to within a mile of the Zadorra, and was in command of the plain-ground as far as the villages of Abechuco, and Gamarra Mayor and Menor. All three are on the northern or right bank of the river, and Reille had determined to hold them as têtes de pont covering the bridges. They had been hastily barricaded, and the artillery of the Army of Portugal had been placed on the opposite bank in a line of batteries, ready to sweep the open ground over which an assault on the villages must be launched. Graham had therefore to deploy for a formal attack on the new position. He sent Longa up-stream and over the hills, to attack Gamarra Menor and Durana, placed Oswald and the 5th Division, with a section of Lawson’s battery, over against Gamarra Mayor, and drew out the 1st Division and the two Portuguese brigades opposite Abechuco, which would have to be taken before the bridge of Arriaga could be attacked. Keeping in mind Wellington’s main purpose, indicated in his orders, of cutting the great road to France, he told Longa and Oswald on the flank that they might push hard, while he seems to have acted in a much more leisurely way in front of Abechuco, where no attack was launched till actual orders had been received from head-quarters bidding him press harder. But meanwhile Longa took Gamarra Menor from the French battalion of the 3rd Line, and then, pushing on, came into collision at Durana bridge with his renegade compatriots the Franco-Spanish division of Casapalacios. As the great road to Bayonne actually passes through Durana, and was now under fire from Longa’s skirmishers, it may be said to have been blocked for all practical purposes at this early stage of the battle. It was not till the afternoon, however, that Longa succeeded in storming the bridge and occupying the village, thus formally breaking the enemy’s main line of communication with France—to save which King Joseph had risked his all. Apparently he was hampered by having no artillery, while the Franco-Spaniards had some four or five guns with them, bearing on the bridge.

Meanwhile Robinson’s brigade of the 5th Division had stormed Gamarra Mayor, defended by the French 118th and 119th—Gauthier’s brigade of Lamartinière’s division. This was a brilliant and costly affair—it being no light matter to attack in column of battalions the barricaded streets of a compact village. The British, however, burst in—Colonel Brooke with the 1/4th being the first to force an entrance: the French abandoned three guns which had been placed in the barricades, and fell back in disorder across the bridge. General Robinson endeavoured to improve the success by instant pursuit, but the French had guns bearing on the bridge, which swept away the first platoons that tried to cross it. Very few men reached the other side, and they were shot down before they could establish a lodgement on the farther bank. It was necessary to halt, re-form, and bring up more artillery before the attack could be repeated.

It was now past two o’clock, and the noise of Graham’s attack was sufficiently audible all down the British line, and was carrying dismay to French head-quarters. But what of the other column, that of the 3rd and 7th Divisions, which was to appear on the middle Zadorra opposite Gazan’s almost unguarded flank, in the direction of the bridge of Mendoza? It was overdue, now that both the large flanking corps were seriously engaged, and the attention of the enemy attracted toward them. But before the missing column came into action, there had been an unexpected modification of the position in the right centre. At 11.30 Wellington appeared before the Light Division, and told Alten to move it more to the left, so as to be over and above the bridge of Villodas, which it would have to attack at the moment of general advance, leaving the two bridges by Nanclares to the 4th Division and the cavalry. So rough and wooded was the ground that the division, moving in a hollow way, was established less than 300 yards from the brink of the Zadorra and the French line, without attracting the notice of the enemy. An officer of the 43rd writes: ‘I felt anxious to obtain a view, and walking leisurely between the trees found myself at the edge of the wood, in clear sight of the enemy’s cannon, planted with lighted matches and ready to apply them[564]. Had our attack begun here, the French could never have stood to their guns, so near were they to the thicket—our Riflemen would have annihilated them.’ The British bank of the Zadorra here completely commanded the bridge and the French bank, which accounts for the fact that the enemy’s artillery did not detect the approach of such a large body of troops as the Light Division. But after a time a bickering fire across the river between skirmishers on both sides broke out at several points, and some voltigeurs even pressed across Villodas bridge, and had to be cast back again by the skirmishers of the 2/95th.

There was to be, however, no attempt to pass this bridge as yet by the British. While Wellington was still with the Light Division, a peasant came up to him with the astounding intelligence that the bridge of Tres Puentes, the one at the extreme point of the ‘hairpin-bend’ of the Zadorra, was not only unoccupied but unwatched by the enemy: he offered to guide any troops sent to it. The Commander-in-Chief made up his mind at once to seize this crossing, which would outflank the French position at Villodas, and told the peasant to lead Kempt’s brigade of the Light Division to the unwatched point, about a mile and a half to the left. ‘The brigade moved off by threes at a rapid pace, along a very uneven and circuitous path, concealed from the observation of the French by high rocks, and reached the narrow bridge, which crossed the river to the hamlet of Yruna (part of the scattered village of Tres Puentes). The 1st Rifles led the way, and the whole brigade following passed at a run, with firelocks and rifles ready cocked, and ascended a steep road of fifty yards, at the top of which was an old chapel. We had no sooner cleared it than we observed a heavy column of the French on the principal hill, and commanding a bird’s eye view of us. However, fortunately, a convex bank formed a sort of tête de pont, behind which the regiments formed at full speed, without any word of command. Two round shots now came among us: the second severed the head from the body of our bold guide, the Spanish peasant. The brigade was so well covered that the enemy soon ceased firing. Our post was extraordinary—we were in the elbow of the French position, and isolated from the rest of the army, within 100 yards of the enemy[565] and absolutely occupying part of his position, without any attempt having been made to dislodge us.... Sir James Kempt expressed much wonder at our critical position, without being molested, and sent his aide-de-camp at speed across the river for the 15th Hussars, who came up singly and at a gallop along the steep path, and dismounted in rear of our centre. Some French dragoons, coolly and at a slow pace, came up to within 50 yards of us, to examine, if possible, our strength, but a few shots from the Rifles caused them to decamp. We could see three bridges within a quarter of a mile of each other, in the elbow of the enemy’s position. We had crossed the centre one (Tres Puentes), while the other two, right and left (Villodas and Mendoza), were still covered by French artillery[566].’

Expecting to be instantly attacked, and to have to fight hard for the chapel-knoll on which they had aligned themselves, Kempt’s brigade spent ‘half an hour of awkward suspense.’ The immunity with which they had been allowed to hold their position was suddenly explained by a movement which they had not been able to observe. The missing column of Wellington’s army had at last come up, and was plunging with headlong speed into the rear of the troops which were facing Kempt, so that the French had no attention to spare for the side-issue in the hairpin-bend of the Zadorra. Instead of being attacked the brigade was about to become at once an attacking force.

A word is necessary as to the leading of this column. It had been placed by Wellington under Lord Dalhousie, now commanding the 7th Division. This was an extraordinary choice, as this officer had been only a few months in the Peninsula, and had no experience of the higher responsibilities—though he had commanded a brigade in the Walcheren expedition[567]. But being as Lieutenant-General slightly senior to Picton (though they had been gazetted major-generals on the same day in 1808), he was entitled to take the command over the head of the war-worn and experienced leader of the 3rd Division. The latter had been directing one of the great marching columns during the early stages of the advance, and was not unnaturally sulky at being displaced. Common report in the army held that he was in disfavour at Head-Quarters, for intemperate letters complaining of the starving of his division during the recent march beyond the Ebro[568]. Be this as it may, Picton was during the forenoon hours of June 21st in one of his not infrequent rages. For though his column had started early, and the 3rd Division had reached Las Guetas, the villages on the south side of the Monte Arrato, which were to be its starting-point for the attack on the line of the Zadorra, Lord Dalhousie refused to advance farther than the edge of the hills, using apparently his discretion in interpreting the orders given him ‘to regulate his action from what was going on to his right and only to move when it should be ‘evidently necessary’ to favour the progress of the columns in that direction. He was obviously worried by the fact that the two rear brigades of his own division, Barnes’s and Le Cor’s, had been hindered by an artillery breakdown in the steep road behind, and were not yet up, though Cairnes’s battery, which had delayed them, ultimately overtook the leading brigade[569]. Hence he used his discretion to wait for formal orders from Head-Quarters, and to do nothing. Picton, who could note the advance of Hill’s column, and could see that the French were utterly unprepared for an attack on the middle Zadorra, chafed bitterly at the delay.

We have an interesting picture of him on that morning from eye-witnesses. He was a strange figure—suffering from inflammation of the eyes, he had put on not his cocked hat but a broad-brimmed and tall civilian top-hat—the same that may be seen to-day in the United Service Museum. ‘During the struggle on the right the centre was inactive. General Picton was impatient, he inquired of every aide-de-camp whether they had any orders for him. As the day wore on, and the fight waxed louder on the right, he became furious, and observed to the communicator of these particulars, ‘D—n it! Lord Wellington must have forgotten us.’ It was near noon, and the men were getting discontented. Picton’s blood was boiling, his stick was beating with rapid strokes upon the mane of his cob. He rode backward and forward looking in every direction for the arrival of an aide-de-camp, until at last one galloped up from Lord Wellington. He was looking for Lord Dalhousie—the 7th Division had not yet arrived, having to move over difficult ground. The aide-de-camp checked his horse and asked the general whether he had seen Lord Dalhousie. Picton was disappointed; he had expected that he might at least move now, and in a voice which did not gain softness from his feelings, answered in a sharp tone, ‘No, Sir: I have not seen his Lordship, but have you any orders for me.’ ‘None,’ replied the aide-de-camp. ‘Then, pray Sir, what are the orders that you do bring?’ ‘Why,’ answered the officer, ‘that as soon as Lord D. shall commence an attack on that bridge,’ pointing to the one on the left (Mendoza), ‘the 4th and Light are to support him.’ Picton could not understand the idea of any other division fighting in his front, and drawing himself up to his full height said to the astonished aide-de-camp, ‘You may tell Lord Wellington from me, Sir, that the 3rd Division, under my command, shall in less than ten minutes attack that bridge and carry it, and the 4th and Light may support if they choose.’ Having thus expressed his intention, he turned from the aide-de-camp and put himself at the head of his men, who were quickly in motion toward the bridge, encouraging them with the bland appellation of ‘Come on, ye rascals! Come on, ye fighting villains[570].’

Ten minutes as the time required to plunge down from the hillside to a bridge two miles away seems a short estimate. But there is no doubt that the advance of the 3rd Division was fast and furious—an eye-witness describes it as shooting like a meteor across the front of the still-halted column-head of the 7th Division. The military purist may opine that Picton should have waited till he got formal orders via Lord Dalhousie to advance. But the moments were precious—Kempt was across the Zadorra close by, in an obviously dangerous state of isolation: the French in a few minutes might be sending infantry to block the bridge of Mendoza, which they had so strangely neglected. The 7th Division was short of two brigades, and not ready to attack. Wellington’s orders were known, and the situation on the right was now such as to justify the permissible advance which they authorized. Neither Wellington nor Dalhousie in their dispatches give any hint that Picton’s action was disapproved—complete success justified it.