The scene at Lisasso was dreadful! All the wounded from Lanz had just arrived there, in cars, on mules, crawling on crutches, and hobbling along: all those with wounds in their hands and arms, &c., walking. Finding that they had orders to stop there, all our quarters, except Lord Wellington’s, and about four more houses, were given up, and we all dispersed to the villages round. You may conceive the scene, both on the road and in the village. I thought one of my horses had lost his shoes on the road, and desired my servant to ascertain this. A soldier walking along, apparently one of the best, said that I had not; that he was still, as a farrier, able to see that, though he thought he should be some months before he could put another shoe on, as he had been shot through the back. I went with Colonel and Mrs. Scovell to a little village half-way up the hill towards Pamplona; and Colonel Scovell and I climbed up to the top of the hill to listen and look about until nearly six o’clock, when we expected our baggage. The curé of the village and three peasants went up with us. We could see beyond Pamplona, and beyond the firing, but could not perceive the place itself for the smoke. By five o’clock, however, we all agreed that it slackened, and receded a little; we therefore descended, got a beefsteak, and waited ready for orders.
About six that evening the wounded were ordered to move on towards Irunzun, on the Vittoria and Tolosa roads; but we remained quiet. About seven, a furious thunder-storm came on, and caught all our poor wounded men on their march: they could not get on to Irunzun, but got to Berrio Planca, near Pamplona. Two officers, one sick and one wounded in a house half a mile from us, heard of this order, left their beds, packed up, and were proceeding; but came first to us to inquire. We told them that head-quarters were not to move. They then went back to bed, keeping a guide in the house all night, to start in case of alarm. At nine came an order to march to Orcayen, near Pamplona, the next morning. Thus passed the 27th.
At five o’clock on the 28th I began to load to proceed to Orcayen, when Mr. Hook, who takes quarters, came back and left word that we were to go to Irunzun instead; but the sergeant, by mistake, told us he would call again when he had made more inquiry. In consequence of this Mrs. Scovell and I staid until past ten before we marched. Then, finding every one gone, and the baggage of General Hill’s division arrived at Lisasso, we started over the mountain. For the first league we were quite right; but afterwards, in a wood, got too much to the right, and entered a wrong valley: as it was all safe, however, to blunder on that side, and the country was picturesque, we proceeded on that road, and by this means got through to Oscoz, and came into the high Pamplona road to Tolosa, about three-quarters of a league from Irunzun towards Tolosa, instead of half a league on the Pamplona side of Irunzun, which would have been the nearest; it was not a league round, and very picturesque. We were, therefore, not sorry for the mistake. At Irunzun, however, came a difficulty; it was quite crowded with wounded; and of head-quarters we could hear nothing, nor of our baggage.
Leaving my servant to bring on the baggage if it came, we proceeded forwards towards Pamplona, near where we heard head-quarters were—somewhere at least that way. At Berrio Planca, a place on the camino real, we found all our baggage and the nominal head-quarters, Every one, however, was absent, and the place full of wounded, the effects of the preceding day. I got a room in the Prince of Orange’s quarter, as he had sent for his bed away that night; but Henry had all my keys. About eight I found Henry and went to bed.
The next morning, the 29th, I heard that we had the most severe work on the 28th; that the French attacked our position on a hill six or seven times, which I believe our troops had only occupied a few hours before the French came up near Oricain or Orquin. These attacks were very desperate: and I understand that such a fire for a short time was scarcely ever known, for four French corps all bore upon one point, and General Pakenham told me that he scarcely dared show any of his men. These attacks were, however, all unsuccessful, and we kept our ground. The French were generally driven down with the bayonet, having been suffered to come close, and then received with a volley, a cheer, and a charge. I hear that some of our officers were once very much alarmed for the result. The French remained close and steady, and one regiment (I believe the 40th) went at them rather loose and straggling. However, at the cheer at the last moment the French broke and ran. The Portuguese behaved in general most inimitably, the 4th, 10th, and 12th regiments in particular. The 10th did, indeed, once give way, but rallied; and the 4th charged twice, I think, on the 27th June, in good English style.
Our loss was very severe; that of the French, of course, much more so; but as their cavalry carry off the wounded to the rear, and they have an hospital corps also for that purpose, no one knows their losses; their prisoners and deserters say nearly five thousand, Lord Wellington’s staff were never so roughly handled. The Prince of Orange, who was sent to thank one regiment by Lord Wellington, was very much exposed while executing this order. His horse was shot under him, and he was grazed in the sash. It was near this place that General Cole’s aide-de-camp had been killed, and also Brigade-Major A——, one of my Deputy Judge-Advocates. He was trying to rally a Spanish battalion which was quite broken. The Adjutant-general Pakenham had his coat-sleeve much torn by a ball. Colonel Waters, A.A.G.C., was shot in the head, through the hat, on the temple, but somehow was little hurt. It is thought that the ball glanced under the hat, against the head, and passed out through the hat. He was out again the next day. Lord Wellington was near at the time, and told him that his head must be like a rock.
Lord Wellington said, I hear, that he had never seen the French behave better. He staid and dined at Picton’s on the 28th, and few returned to head-quarters. All the 29th was quiet; both sides employed in burying the dead and getting off the wounded. On the 29th also the staff and light canteens alone remained at Villalba with General Cole; and I was left with scarcely anything except wounded men and baggage. All the stores were ordered to be unloaded, and all spare mules of the head-quarters and of the second and seventh divisions likewise. Two troops of Portuguese cavalry were employed from daylight to dark, in addition to cars and hospital waggons, in carrying off the wounded to Irunzun, to be out of the way in case of attack, and on the road to the great hospital at Vittoria.
I made myself of some use in assisting the arrangement, and as there were not hands to move the men from their mules, to get their rations, &c., and then remount them to proceed, I asked an artillery officer close by, to lend some of his men to assist, which he did directly, and everything went on as quick again. I was sure they would not stand upon form on such an occasion, and the men were standing about waiting for orders; they only regretted that they did not know it sooner, for they would have given men all day. The scene was a busy one. I suppose nearly twelve hundred went through in this way; they were provided with rations for two days to get on to Echani, mounted and sent off, their ammunition having in the meantime been taken from them to be better used, for that was getting scarce more than once. Some had two, some one ball still in them. Besides this, Colonel Campbell, of the Portuguese service, who had been wounded, was lying in my ante-room all day. He was shot through the shinbone, a painful wound. He could not get into my room, which of course I offered, but he preferred the cool passage. I was at breakfast when he arrived. I gave him tea, and some newspapers to try and read himself to sleep. A friend was with him, a Campbell, who shared my bouillie; he ate as good a dinner as I did, but objected to a second bottle, upon which I discovered he was also wounded in the side, and feared that the end of his rib was broken.
The next morning, the 30th, we were all in suspense, as Lord Wellington had determined on a general attack. The firing began at daylight. At nine o’clock I determined to go and see what was going on, and mounting my black, proceeded up for the hills, where the sixth and seventh divisions were, on the opposite side of the valley from our grand position, where we had been attacked the day before. I met many wounded, crawling back all the way, and on the top found only the pickets left in the camp of the morning, and that the seventh division had just driven the French from the adjoining hill, and were after them up the valley on the other side. I went on to the point of the hill and saw the battle still raging strong, just opposite on the hills below, on the other side of the valley opposite our position. The French still steady and firing very briskly all round the side of one hill and in the village below us, and our people creeping on by degrees under ridges towards the village and the hill, and also advancing round the back of the hill. We had two mortars and a gun also upon our position-hill constantly at work, playing upon the French, and we saw the shells continually fall and burst close to the French line, whilst the wounded were carried off to the rear.
This went on for some time, above an hour after I came up, and we had men in reserve all round. I then saw our men in the village, and immediately under the French, and appearing at top also. The French gave way, but went on firing all over the hill. In half-an-hour, I heard the loud huzzas of our soldiers, and saw no French left except on the next hills, where they seemed very numerous and strong, but in confusion. The first huzzas were I believe for a body of about eighteen hundred prisoners, who were caught, being headed every way. There was soon a shout on our side close by our positions. It proved to be Marshal Beresford and Lord Wellington proceeding down to the village to water their horses and proceed on. I should have wished to have pushed on also, but I knew head-quarters would move, and had told my people I should return, and not to stir until they saw me. I therefore went back to Berrio Planca, found as I expected all loaded and on the move to go towards Orquin; got a mouthful of mouldy bread in the market, and went back again close to our position at Orquin. There we got orders to halt loaded, until orders came to proceed to Ostiz. We took off our bridles, turned the horses into a field of Indian corn, where the French camp had been four hours before, and where their dead of the 28th had been buried. We waited thus, hearing a distant firing, until near dark. The reason of this halt, as I learned from General O’Donnell, who passed, was that D’Erlon had attacked General Hill in the morning, and that he had been rather too much in advance, and was in some degree obliged to give way; that he had now taken a new position, and expected the second attack without alarm, as he was to be supported.