There is a large plain near Vittoria, and then all beyond is hilly to France. An officer of the 95th was killed on the 18th, and about seventy men wounded, I hear. Yesterday an officer of the Fusileers was wounded badly in this village, and lies in a house here: in another house a very spirited Portuguese (Caçadores) serjeant is also lying wounded.

3 o’clock.—The French remain in the valley, but it is thought will be off to-night.

Vittoria, June 23rd, 1813.—My last was of the 20th from Morillas, and on the 21st I arrived here after a scene never to be forgotten. Our baggage was that morning ordered to remain ready to load until further orders. The French were very strongly posted at about a league and a half distance, directly across the road to Vittoria, about sixty or seventy thousand strong, and extending about a league; their centre supported by a wood and a small river, their left by strong wooded hills, and their right on another hill not so strong. The attack was ordered in the manner you have seen before this in the “Gazette.” General Graham was to turn the French right flank; General Hill their left. I mounted my horse about nine to see the result, leaving Henry and everything behind, with directions to do exactly the same as Lord Wellington’s servants. I got, with Dr. M’Gregor and a few others, on a hill about a mile from the French, which commanded nearly the whole scene. At about half-past ten the firing began very briskly on the hills on the French left. The different ridges were well contested; but our people constantly, though gradually, gained ground, and advanced along the top ridge to turn the French. The cavalry were nearly all close under us to be ready, some in the rear, and one division of infantry also. General Pakenham’s division was not up at all—it was four leagues in the rear.

By the ground gained on the French left, and soon after from General Picton having got up quite on the ridge of the hills there with his division, a steep and difficult ascent, the centre were enabled to advance a little also, and much skirmishing began there near a little village before us, which was for some time contested. At length, some guns being brought to bear there, and one also half way up the hill, the village was passed by our people, and we saw them lying sheltered under a hill beyond, nearly opposite the wood at the French centre. A smart contest then ensued. The cannon and a few men from the hill and village fired into the wood, and a constant firing was kept up from the wood on our men; the main contest being still, however, on the hills on the French left. By this time, about one, we on our hill all advanced to another nearer, to observe more distinctly with our glasses. Soon after this, General Graham’s attack began on the French right, and a very brisk cannonade was then kept up right and left. The French line on the hill on the right and left (for we saw the whole of their line) began to give way a little, and to put itself in motion, and the plot then thickened. Still we gained ground, and some of our men also got close to the wood, and, lying down, kept up a smart fire. The cannonading lasted two or three hours, the English constantly gaining ground. Our party moved a second time to a third hill within the original French picquets, and in front of our cavalry. At last we saw our line forming gradually under shelter of the rising ground, within half a mile of the French line and guns. They then advanced, and the cavalry began to move up—some say rather late, as Lord Wellington was not there to give the orders.

We then left our hill and advanced with the Household Brigade constantly as they moved. We now began to see the effects of the guns. Dead and wounded men and horses, some in the most horrible condition, were scattered all along the way we passed. These were principally cannon-shot wounds, and were on that account the more horrible. It was almost incredible that some could live in the state we saw them. From my black feather I was taken by some for a doctor, and appealed to in the most piteous voice and affecting manner, so that I immediately took out my feather, not to be supposed so unfeeling as to pass on without taking any notice of these poor creatures. Our hospital spring-waggons were following, and men with frames to lift up and carry off those near the roads. Some in the fields about crawled by degrees into the villages; but hundreds have lain without food or having their wounds dressed until now, two days afterwards. Parties are sent all over the contested ground to find them, though the peasants are continually bringing in the wounded.

On the hill in the centre of the French position, at a village where we first came in full sight of Vittoria, and about two miles distance, the contest was very sharp, and the three first guns were taken, with several tumbrils, and there the first charge of cavalry took place. The sufferers there were principally Portuguese of the 11th and 21st regiments, and we had all along seen more of our people wounded than the French. We now found swords, muskets, knapsacks, &c., in all directions. The stragglers and followers were stripping and plundering, and a scramble ensued for the corn, &c., which was in the tumbrils with the ammunition. The Hussars in their charges suffered much. The Life Guards I kept close to all the way to Vittoria, and to that time they were not engaged.

We could hear the whistle of the cannon-shot, and saw the ground torn up where they struck. Tumbrils and guns were now found upset or deserted at every half-mile; and when we got near Vittoria the road was absolutely choked up with them, so that our artillery was some time stopped. Some of the Life Guards were placed at the gates and in the streets here, to keep soldiers, &c., out, and to preserve order as far as possible; and we rode into Vittoria amidst the cries, hurras, and vivas of the mob, which consisted chiefly of women. We looked into the stores and found little left, and then passed through the town, at the further side of which we stopped at a very curious scene. The French so little expected the result, that all their carriages were caught, and stopped at this place—three of King Joseph’s, those of the Generals, &c.; the Paymaster and his chest, the Casa real, hundreds of tumbrils, the wives of the Generals, all flying in confusion; several carriages upset, the horses and mules removed from them, the women still in their carriages, and the Spaniards (a few soldiers, but principally the common people) beginning to break open and plunder everything, assisted by a few of our soldiers. Upon the whole, our people got but little of the plunder, except by seizing and selling a few mules. The seats of the carriages were broken with great stones and ransacked, and gold, silver, and plate were found in several in abundance. I took a case of maps, part of Lopez’ provincial set, and a horse-cloth, which I bought of a Portuguese soldier as a memorial, but would not meddle with the rest. Maps, books, &c., were thrown aside; brandy, &c., drank.

In the midst of this, a lady in great distress, well dressed and elegant, with her carriage in the ditch, and she herself standing by, appealed to me, and, asking me if I could speak French, said she was the Countess de Gazan, wife of the French General, and that she wished to get back to the town, and, if possible, save her horses, mules, and carriage, and those of King Joseph, which were by. With the assistance of two hussars, after above an hour, I at last accomplished this in a great measure; that is, I got the lady, her woman, the carriage, and four out of six of the animals, to the house of a friend whom she pointed out to me, and also a few loose things out of the carriage. The other two animals and the three trunks of clothes had been plundered before I arrived. I also put King Joseph’s carriage and horses in their way to the square of the town; I then went and tried to find out amongst the prisoners a little boy of two years old, a son of the General, whom some French gens-d’armes had taken from the carriage to carry off, and who had not since been seen, and whom the mother thought was taken prisoner. I could not find him anywhere; but I met Lord Wellington returning to the Palace at ten at night to his quarters there; and as Madame de Gazan was most anxious that he should know she was taken, I told him, and also about her boy. He desired me to say that he could not then see her, but that she might rely on his doing what he could to find the child, and that she should be immediately at liberty to join her husband. This I went and told her. I also found an English aide-de-camp of General Hill, who had been released only the day before, having been prisoner, and to whom she had been very kind when he was with the French, and who had, on taking leave, promised, if the fate of war should make a change in their relative situations, to return her attentions.

My return and message made her more easy: I fear, from what I have since heard, that her boy was killed between two carriages; but still hope he may have escaped. The confusion lasted all night, and indeed, has continued until now. The event was also so little expected on our part, that for a long time there were no guards for the prisoners, and many escaped in consequence, and several are still wandering about the country.

The next day (22nd) the head-quarters followed the French to Salvatierra; but I was advised by Colonel Campbell and others to stay quietly here, and proceed afterwards. I did so, but already repent, for no place is so certain of news, and so secure, as head-quarters, though the accommodation is often most wretched. I have been over the hospital, and the scene which I there witnessed was most terrible; seventeen or eighteen hundred men, without legs or arms, &c., or with dreadful wounds, and having had nothing to eat for two or three days, the misery extreme, and not nearly hands sufficient to dress or take care of the men—English, Portuguese, Spaniards, and French all together, though the Spaniards and Portuguese had at first no provision at all for their people. Half the wounded have been scattered round the villages in the neighbourhood; and there are still many to come in, who arrive hourly, and are lying in all the passages and spare places around the hospital. A Commissary is just established.