This unfortunate attempt to regain possession of the heights, did not deter the enemy from making another trial. The beaten troops were moved round the northern shoulder of the hill, on the eastern bank of the ravine, and a fresh body of infantry, in total ignorance of the dangers they had to encounter, carried round the southern, to assault us in the same position from before which their companions had so recently been driven. In about half an hour the head of the French column began to descend the opposite eminence, to check which, a few light troops kept up a smart fire of small arms; but the others, arranged along the brink of the ravine in a sitting posture, were ordered to slope their muskets to the rear, and to remain in this position till the enemy had arrived within twenty or thirty paces of them, when the whole were to stand up, and bestow upon the assailants as many pepper-corns as they could conveniently spare. These orders were admirably obeyed. Not a whisper was heard—scarcely a shot was fired—during the interval between the crossing of the ravine by the enemy, and their arrival near the summit of the bank. As before, however, silence was broken on our lads resuming their standing position, and giving the foe their first fire. The scene which followed was equally animated as that which preceded it. After a smart rencounter, in which the 50th, 71st, and 92nd regiments took part, the French, as before, were driven back with considerable loss.
The fugitives, as on the former occasion, were withdrawn round the northern side of the hill, and a third column of attack formed on the southern side, to make another dash at us, in order to obtain possession of that position which they should never have lost. In this his last effort, the enemy was far from exhibiting the same spirit as in the two former ones, although he made a much greater display of his numerical force. In order to intimidate us, masses of infantry crowned the height, but none of them moved forward to support the troops advanced towards us, whose efforts were feeble, and altogether unworthy of themselves. This we attributed to the situation of their affairs in the centre, which a short time before had begun to take an active part in the business of the day.
Sir Rowland Hill being in possession of Sabujana-de-Alava, the 3d, 4th, 7th, and light divisions crossed the Zadora between twelve and one o'clock at various points, a little in front of the enemy, and attacked their centre, and right centre columns with much gallantry—Sir Rowland Hill doing himself the honour of waiting on the French left centre divisions in a similar manner, accompanied with the troops under his personal command. From this period, down to four o'clock, events of the most important and interesting description were every moment taking place along the whole of Zadora's vale, from where the Hero of Salamanca issued his mandate to his followers,—to that spot which the Hero of Barossa was deluging with blood, in order to cut off the communication of the enemy with France by the principal and direct road to St Jean-de-Luz. But who will attempt to describe these events, as viewed by us from the blood-stained heights of Puebla? I confess myself unable to do so as they ought. Let any man fancy himself standing on the summit of a high hill, looking down on a plain covered with 150,000 men, from 10,000 to 15,000 horse, and from 300 to 400 pieces of artillery vomiting fire and death in every direction, and thousands of the infantry pointing their deadly weapons at each other, the space between the belligerents barely permitting them doing so without crossing the muzzles of their pieces,—and he will have some faint idea of what passed on the plains of Vittoria, and be able to paint in imagination a few of those extraordinary scenes to which we were witnesses.
The admirable manner in which the troops employed against the enemy's centre moved forward to the assault, was the theme of general admiration among all ranks on the heights. Joseph Bonaparte and his Major-General, Marshal Jourdan, had been at great pains to strengthen this part of their position, aware that if they were driven from it the battle was lost. Every little eminence literally bristled with cannon, behind which 40,000 infantry at least were drawn up in dense masses, ready to pounce upon all who should attempt to attack them. The French troops being formed within a very narrow space, the service in that quarter during the early part of the action was extremely hot. Notwithstanding the cool and determined conduct of our companions in their first rencounter, it was not at all surprising that the thundering of the cannon, and cheers of the combatants, should in a little time produce feelings, which none but those who were on the heights can at all describe. Although we never had the smallest doubt as to the issue of the battle, yet I confess that it was with equal pride and pleasure that we beheld from the heights a wavering in some of the enemy's battalions, about half an hour after the engagement began in the centre. Yes, it was with pleasure, for so close and murderous was the conflict in that quarter, that had not the enemy given way, thousands more of our countrymen must have fallen under the terrific fire of their opponents,—it being well known that French infantry will sustain a discharge of musketry for a long time with unflinching courage. We were, therefore, not at all disappointed to perceive that our small arms made sometimes but a feeble impression on their ranks. For, in the first place, it convinced the soldiers that they were opposed to troops against whom they would require to use all the physical, as well as moral courage which they possessed; and the officers that something besides powder and shot would have to be employed before the French infantry could be forced from their stronghold. For some time, therefore, volley succeeded volley, and the discharges from the artillery rolled in a terrific manner along the vale, without producing any result beyond that of winding up the spirits of our men to the highest pitch to which the bravery of men can be screwed. One of the finest qualities which British soldiers possess, is, that on all occasions their courage invariably rises in proportion to the exertions required of them, a quality which was never more nobly exhibited than on the plains of Vittoria. On going into action, almost every soldier resolves to be in possession of the laurel leaf, or a grave, before it is done. On this occasion they were unanimous. Never was there a finer field offered them to shew their unanimity than Vittoria, and never did they exhibit it to greater advantage. Proud of his followers, and unwilling to throw away any more of their precious lives than was absolutely necessary, Lord Wellington gave orders to make use of a weapon, at all times irresistible in the hands of British troops. The bayonet, brought to its proper position, was therefore directed to bend its course towards the hitherto immoveable columns of the enemy. Firmly the latter awaited the coming storm, apparently resolved to brave the furious onset. "Vive l'Empereur," ran along the line with the rapidity of lightning; but in wishing long life to their sovereign, the soldiers were not unmindful of their own, and consequently, as soon as the hostile lines approached close enough to make use of the steel, the enemy uniformly gave way.
From the first partial breaking of the French line in the centre, the scene of active operation took a wider range. The enemy driven from their vantage ground, and perceiving their principal communication with France seriously endangered, at once resolved to make every hedge a rampart, and every ditch or rivulet a river, and to defend them to the last extremity, to give time to their baggage and their artillery to draw off towards Pampeluna. Arranging themselves, therefore, behind the various ditches and hedges which intersected the fields in every direction, they compelled the British troops to extend their lines also, in order to oppose a front equal to that of the enemy. Interesting as were the first operations when viewed from the heights of Puebla, those which succeeded were much more so. The salvos of artillery indeed were neither so frequent nor so appalling, but the vollies of musketry were more numerous, and that beautiful mode of firing, called "running fire," was practised on a scale of greater magnitude than had ever before been witnessed by any British officer. How often, during the awful struggle, did I witness the British soldiers walk up to the brink of a ditch, behind which their opponents were arrayed, and in the most cool and determined manner, cross their pieces with the latter before they gave their fire. On those occasions the conflict invariably assumed a sanguinary aspect, for the ditches being generally too deep for our men to pass in face of an enemy, the French always remained on the opposite side, and kept up a smart fire of musketry, till our artillery or cavalry could be brought forward to dislodge them. In this manner the battle raged in the centre from one o'clock till four, by which time the French had been pushed back almost to Vittoria, where all was confusion and dismay, and from whence Joseph and Jourdan were flying to secure their personal safety.
From Lord Wellington's mode of proceeding on the right and in the centre, it was evident that he relied not a little on the faithful execution of that part of the operations entrusted to Sir Thomas Graham, for the success of his enterprise. When the hour passed at which the latter was to attack, (one o'clock) Lord Wellington appeared uneasy, and I believe despatched more than one courier to ascertain the real cause of Sir Thomas Graham's non-appearance. Be this as it may, it was not long after the hour when Sir Thomas brought his men into action, and began that struggle, the issue of which destroyed all the hopes of the enemy, and turned a simple defeat into one of the most complete routes recorded in history.
The French infantry on the heights seeing that all was lost in the centre and on the right, began to execute a retrograde movement between four and five o'clock. On their intentions being discovered, the first brigade, 50th, 71st and 92nd regiments, and two Portuguese brigades, which had arrived on the hill sometime before, gave chace to the fugitives, but so superior were the enemy at this game, that in an hour and a-half we entirely lost sight of them, although we ran almost all the way. On mentioning this circumstance to a French officer one day, he said, "I will back my countrymen against all the soldiers in the world in a race of that kind." Continuing the pursuit, we passed Vittoria, and at eleven o'clock, P.M., bivouacked in a field a league and a-half in front of it. By this time the night was so dark, that it was with difficulty we could discover the person immediately before us. Notwithstanding this, however, the troops who had been opposed to each other in the centre and on the left during the day, seemed unwilling to relinquish the honourable avocation of killing and maiming one another, for the deadly strife continued in those quarters till eleven o'clock in the evening.
The price paid for this splendid victory was, from four to five thousand British and Portuguese killed and wounded. The loss of the French was never accurately ascertained, but was estimated at from ten to fifteen thousand killed, wounded, and prisoners. All their cannon, save two pieces, and all their baggage, money, ammunition, and provisions fell into our hands.
CHAPTER XIX.
The British General who pointed out the road to victory on the 21st of June, has by many been denominated a military quack, who never gained a battle but by sheer blundering. This assertion, no less ridiculous than false, I shall not notice farther than to remark, that the Emperor of the French must at one time have entertained a similar opinion of our unrivalled General's military talents, otherwise how can we account for him appointing a general to the chief command in Spain who was totally unfit for the station he occupied at Vittoria. On perusing the details of the battle what opinion will military men of later times entertain of Marshal Jourdan's abilities as a general when they discover that he posted a few light troops only on the heights of Puebla, when they should have been crowned with a force sufficiently numerous to have held them against all mortal flesh? What opinion will they have of his military qualifications, when they read, that he permitted his right wing to be driven from his principal and direct line of communication into France, when to have preserved which, next to beating his antagonist, should have been his principal object. What will they think of the Hero of Gemappe, when they perceive that he not only allowed his wings to be turned, but thrown back upon his centre, and his whole army ultimately forced back upon an outlet, not broader than was necessary to secure the retreat of one of his divisions, on such an emergency? Why, that he was a person perfectly incompetent to command an army of sixty or seventy thousand Frenchmen against such an adversary: for by the first error he placed the key of his position in our hands,—by the second, he barred the door of the principal outlet from the field against himself,—and by the effects produced by these, his army was huddled together, and in a short time became such an ungovernable mass, that he had latterly no other alternative than to abandon his artillery, stores, &c. in order to preserve his cavalry and infantry from entire destruction.