SECTION XXXVIII: CHAPTER V
SOULT’S RETREAT, JULY 30-31.
THE SECOND BATTLE
OF SORAUREN
While the battle of July 28th was being fought, the outlying divisions of both Soult’s and Wellington’s armies were at last beginning to draw in towards the main bodies.
Hill, as we have already seen, had received the orders written by Wellington on Sorauren bridge at 11 a.m. by the afternoon of the same day, and had started off at once with his whole force—the three 2nd Division brigades, Silveira’s one brigade, and Barnes’s three battalions of the 7th Division. His directions were to endeavour to cross the Puerto de Velate that night, so as to sleep at Lanz, the first village on the south side of the pass. He was to leave a detachment at the head of the defile, to check D’Erlon’s probable movement of pursuit. The supplementary order, issued at 4 p.m. from the heights of Oricain, directed Hill to march from the place where his corps should encamp on the night of the 27th (Lanz as was hoped) to Lizaso, abandoning the high road for the side road Olague-Lizaso, since the former was known to be cut by the French at Sorauren. If the men were not over-fatigued when they reached Lizaso, Hill must try to bring them on farther, to Ollocarizqueta on the flank of the Sorauren position, where the 6th Division would have preceded them.
Similarly Dalhousie with the 7th Division (minus the three battalions with Hill) was to march that same evening from Santesteban over the Puerto de Arraiz on to Lizaso, to sleep there and to march on Ollocarizqueta, like Hill, on the morning of the 28th, if the state of the troops allowed it. All the baggage, sick, stores, and other impedimenta from the Bastan were also directed on Lizaso, but they were to go through it westward and turn off to Yrurzun, not to follow the fighting force to Ollocarizqueta.
None of these directions worked out as was desired, the main hindering cause being the fearful thunderstorm already recorded, which raged during the twilight hours of the evening of the 27th. Hill had started from Irurita, as directed, keeping as a rearguard Ashworth’s Portuguese, who were intended to hold the Puerto de Velate when the rest of the column should have crossed it. He was nearing the watershed, in the roughest part of the road, where it has many precipitous slopes on the left hand, when the storm came down, completely blotting out the evening light with a deluge of rain, and almost sweeping men off their feet. One of Barnes’s officers describes the scene as follows: ‘So entangled were we among carts, horses, vicious kicking mules, baggage, and broken-down artillery, which lined the road, that we could not extricate ourselves. Some lighted sticks and candles only added to the confusion, for we were not able to see one yard beyond the lights, owing to the thick haze, which seemed to render darkness still more dark. In this bewildered state many who could not stand were obliged from fatigue to sit down in the mire: to attempt going on was impossible, except by climbing over the different vehicles that blocked the road. In this miserable plight, I seated myself against a tree, when weariness caused me, even amidst this bustle, mud, and riot, to fall fast asleep[958].’ All sorts of disasters happened: one of Tulloh’s 9-pounders went over the precipice with the shaft animals drawn down with it, when the side of the roadway crumbled in[959]. Ross’s battery lost another gun in a similar way, owing to the sudden breaking of a wheel, and many carts and mules blundered over the edge. The only thing that could be done was to stick to the track, sit down, and wait for daylight, which was fortunately early in July.
When it came, the drenched and miserable column picked itself up from the mire, and straggled down the defile of the Velate, passing Lanz and turning off at Olague towards Lizaso, as ordered. Troops and baggage were coming in all day to this small and overcrowded mountain village, in very sorry plight. It was of course quite impossible for them to move a mile farther on the 28th, and Hill had to write to Wellington that he could only hope to move his four brigades on the early morning of the 29th.[960]
Lord Dalhousie had fared, as it seems, a little better in crossing the Puerto de Arraiz; he had a less distance to cover, but the dispatch from Sorauren bridge only reached him at 7 p.m. when the rain was beginning. With laudable perseverance he kept marching all night, and reached Lizaso at 12 noon on the 28th, with all his men, except a battalion of Caçadores left behind to watch the pass. The condition of the division was so far better than that of Hill’s column, that Dalhousie wrote to Wellington that he could march again in the late afternoon, after six hours’ rest, and would be at or near Ollocarizqueta by dawn on the 29th[961], though two successive night marches would have made the men very weary. This the division accomplished, much to its credit, and reached the appointed destination complete, for Hill had returned to it the three battalions which had saved the day at Maya on the 25th.
Lizaso on the afternoon of July 28th was a dismal sight, crammed with the drenched and worn-out men of seven brigades, who had just finished a terrible night march, with large parties of the Maya wounded, much baggage and transport with terrified muleteers in charge, and a horde of the peasants of the Bastan, who had loaded their more precious possessions on ox-wagons, and started off to escape the French. It took hours to sort out the impedimenta and start them on the Yrurzun road. There was a general feeling of disaster in the air, mainly owing to physical exhaustion, which even the report of the victory of Sorauren arriving in the evening could not exorcise. Rumours were afloat that Wellington was about to retire again, despite of the successes of the afternoon. However, the day being fine, the men were able to cook and to dry themselves, and the 7th Division duly set out for another night march.
It was fortunate that the retiring columns were not troubled by any pursuit either on the 27th or the 28th. The storm which had so maltreated Hill’s column seems to have kept the French from discovering its departure. Darmagnac had moved forward on the 27th from Elizondo to ground facing Hill’s position at Irurita, but had not attempted to attack it, D’Erlon having decided that it was ‘très forte par elle-même, et inattaquable, étant gardée par autant de troupes.’ So badly was touch kept owing to the rainy evening, that Hill got away unobserved, and it was only on the following morning that Darmagnac reported that he had disappeared. This news at last inspired D’Erlon with a desire to push forward, and on the morning of the 28th Abbé took over the vanguard, passed Almandoz, and crossed the Velate, with Darmagnac following in his rear, while Maransin—kept back so long at Maya—came down in the wake of the other divisions to Elizondo. The head of Abbé’s division passed the Puerto de Velate, pushing before it Ashworth’s Portuguese, who had been left as a detaining force. Abbé reported that the pass was full of wrecked baggage, and that he had seen guns shattered at the foot of precipices. D’Erlon says that 400 British stragglers were gleaned by the way—no doubt Maya wounded and footsore men. On the night of the 28th Abbé and Darmagnac bivouacked at and about Lanz, Maransin somewhere by Irurita. He left behind one battalion at Elizondo[962], to pick up and escort the convoy of food expected from Urdax and Ainhoue.
The light cavalry[963] who accompanied Abbé duly reported that Hill had not followed the great road farther than Olague, but had turned off along the valley of the upper Ulzama to Lizaso; his fires were noted at evening all along the edge of the woods near that village. One patrol of chasseurs, pushing down the main road to Ostiz, sighted a similar exploring party of Ismert’s dragoons coming from Sorauren, but could not get in touch with them, as the dragoons took them for enemies and decamped. However, the two bodies of French cavalry met again and recognized each other at dawn on the 29th, so that free communication between the two parts of Soult’s army was now established.
D’Erlon has been blamed by every critic for his slow advance between the 26th and the 29th. He was quite aware that it was slow, and frankly stated in his reports that he did not attack Hill because he could not have turned him out of the position of Irurita, not having a sufficient superiority of numbers to cancel Hill’s advantage of position. This is quite an arguable thesis—D’Erlon had, deducting Maya losses, some 18,000 men: Hill counting in Dalhousie who had been placed on his flank by Wellington for the purpose of helping him if he were pressed, had (also deducting Maya losses) four British and three Portuguese brigades, with a strength of about 14,000. If Cameron’s and Pringle’s regiments had been terribly cut up at Maya, Darmagnac’s and Maransin’s had suffered a perceptibly larger loss, though one distributed over more units. D’Erlon was under the impression that Hill had three divisions with him, having received false information to that effect. If this had been true, an assault on the position of Irurita would have been very reckless policy. It was not true—only two divisions and one extra Portuguese brigade being in line. Yet still the event of the combat of Beunza, only three days later, when D’Erlon’s three divisions attacked Hill’s own four brigades—no other allied troops being present—and were held in check for the better part of a day, suggests that D’Erlon may have had good justification for not taking the offensive on the 26th or 27th, while the 7th Division was at Hill’s disposition. The most odd part of his tactics seems to have been the way in which he kept Maransin back at Maya and Elizondo so long: this was apparently the result of fear that Graham might have something to say in the contest—an unjustifiable fear as we know now, but D’Erlon cannot have been so certain as we are! The one criticism on the French general’s conduct which does seem to admit of no adequate reply, is that in his original orders from Soult, which laid down the scheme of the whole campaign, he was certainly directed to get into touch with the main army as soon as possible, though he was also directed to seize the pass of Maya and to pursue Hill by Elizondo and the Puerto de Velate. If he drew the conclusion on the 26th that he could not hope to dislodge Hill from the Irurita position, it was probably his duty to march eastward by the Col de Berderis or the Col d’Ispegui and join the main body by the Alduides. It is more than doubtful whether, considering the character of the country and the tracks, he could have arrived in time for the battle of Sorauren on the 28th. And if Hill had seen him disappear eastward, he could have marched to join Wellington by a shorter and much better road, and could certainly have been in touch with his chief before D’Erlon was in touch with Soult. Nevertheless, it cannot be said that the French general obeyed the order which told him that ‘il ne perdra pas de vue qu’il doit chercher à se réunir le plutôt possible au reste de l’armée[964].’ And orders ought to be obeyed—however difficult they may appear.
At dawn on the 29th, therefore, Soult’s troops were in their position of the preceding day, and D’Erlon’s leading division was at Lanz, requiring only a short march to join the main body. But Wellington was in a better position, since he had already been joined by the 6th Division, and would be joined in a few hours by the 7th Division, which, marching all night, had reached Ollocarizqueta. Hill, with his four original brigades, was at Lizaso, as near to Wellington as D’Erlon was to Soult. The only other troops which could have been drawn in, if Wellington had so originally intended, were the brigades of the Light Division, for which (as we shall see) he made another disposition. But omitting this unit, and supposing that the other troops on both sides simply marched in to join their main bodies on the 29th, it was clear that by night Wellington would have a numerical equality with his adversary, and this would make any further attempts to relieve Pampeluna impossible on the part of Soult.
This was the Marshal’s conviction, and he even overrated the odds set against him, if (as he said in his dispatch to Clarke) he estimated his adversary’s force on the evening of the 28th at 50,000 men, and thought that several other divisions would join him ere long. In face of such conditions, what was to be the next move? Obviously a cautious general would have decided that his bolt had been shot, and that he had failed. He had a safe retreat before him to Roncesvalles, by a road which would take all his cavalry and guns; and D’Erlon had an equally secure retreat either by Elizondo and Maya on a good road, or by the Alduides, if absolute security were preferred to convenience in marching. The country was such that strong rearguards could have held off any pursuit. And this may have been the Marshal’s first intention, for in his letter to Clarke, written on the evening after the battle, before he had any knowledge of D’Erlon’s approach, he said that he was sending back his artillery and dragoons on Roncesvalles, since it was impossible to use them in Navarre, and that he was dispatching them to the Bidassoa ‘where he could make better use of them in new operations, which he was about to undertake’. He was intending to remain a short time in his present position with the infantry, to see what the enemy would do. No news had been received of D’Erlon since the 27th, when he was still at Elizondo, declaring that he could not move because he was blocked by a large hostile force—‘the same force, as I believe, which fell on Clausel’s flank to-day.’ Further comment the Marshal evidently judged superfluous[965]. The column of guns and baggage actually marched off on the night of the 28th-29th.
But early on the morning of the 29th D’Erlon’s cavalry was met, and the news arrived that he was at Lanz, and marching on Ostiz, where he would arrive at midday, and would be only five miles from Sorauren. This seems to have changed the Marshal’s outlook on the situation, and by the afternoon he had sketched out a wholly different plan of campaign, and one of the utmost hazard. As the critic quoted a few pages back observed, he recovered his confidence when once he was twenty-four hours away from a defeat, and his strategical conceptions were sometimes risky in the extreme[966].
The new plan involved a complete change of direction. Hitherto Soult had been aiming at Pampeluna, and D’Erlon was, so to speak, his rearguard. Now he avowed another objective—the cutting of the road between Pampeluna and Tolosa, with the purpose of throwing himself between Wellington and Graham and forcing the latter to raise the siege of St. Sebastian[967]. He had now, as he explained, attracted to the extreme south nearly the whole of the Anglo-Portuguese divisions: there was practically a gap between Wellington, with the troops about to join him, and the comparatively small force left on the Bidassoa. He would turn the British left, by using D’Erlon’s corps as his vanguard and cutting in north of Lizaso, making for Hernani or Tolosa, whichever might prove the more easy goal. He hoped that Villatte and the reserves on the Bidassoa might already be at Hernani, for D’Erlon had passed on to him an untrustworthy report that an offensive had begun in that direction, as his original orders had directed. The manœuvre would be so unexpected that he ought to gain a full day on Wellington—D’Erlon was within striking distance of Hill, and should be able to thrust him out of the way, before the accumulation of British troops about Sorauren, Villaba, and Huerta could come up. There was obviously one difficult point in the plan: D’Erlon could get at Hill easily enough. But was it certain that the rest of the troops, now in such very close touch with Wellington’s main body—separated from it on one front of two miles by no more than a narrow ravine—would be able to disentangle themselves without risk, and to follow D’Erlon up the valley of the Ulzama? When armies are so near that either can bring on a general action by advancing half a mile, it is not easy for one of them to withdraw, without exposing at least its rearguard or covering troops to the danger of annihilation.
Soult took this risk, whether underrating Wellington’s initiative, or overrating the manœuvring power of his own officers and men. It was a gross tactical error, and he was to pay dearly for it on the 30th. In fact, having obliged his enemy with a second Bussaco on the 28th, he presented him with the opportunity of a second Salamanca two days after. For in its essence the widespread battle of the 30th, which extended over ten miles from D’Erlon’s attack on Hill near Lizaso to Wellington’s counter-attack on Reille near Sorauren, was, like Salamanca, the sudden descent of an army in position upon an enemy who has unwisely committed himself to a march right across its front.
Soult made the most elaborate plans for his manœuvre—D’Erlon was to move from Ostiz and Lanz against Hill: he was lent the whole of Treillard’s dragoons, to give him plenty of cavalry for reconnaissance purposes; Clausel was to march Taupin’s and Vandermaesen’s troops behind Conroux, who was to hold Sorauren village till they had passed him. Conroux would then be relieved by Maucune’s division from the high ground opposite the Col, and when it had taken over Sorauren from him, would follow the rest of Clausel’s troops up the high road. Maucune’s vacant position would be handed over to Foy and Lamartinière. The former was to evacuate Alzuza and the left bank of the Arga, where he was not needed, as the column of guns and baggage, with its escort of cavalry, had got far enough away on the road to Zubiri and Roncesvalles to be out of danger. He was then to go up on to the heights where Maucune had been posted during the recent battle, as was also Lamartinière. The latter was to leave one battalion, along with the corps-cavalry (13th Chasseurs) of Reille’s wing, on the high road north of Zabaldica, as an extra precaution to guard against any attempt by the enemy to raid the retreating column of impedimenta[968].
Finally, some orders impossible to execute were dictated—viz. that all these movements were to be carried out in the night, and that both Clausel and Reille were to be careful that the British should get no idea that any change in the position of the army was taking place; one general is told that ‘il opérera son mouvement de manière à ce que l’ennemi ne puisse aucunement l’apercevoir,’ the other that ‘il disposera ses troupes à manière que l’ennemi ne puisse soupçonner qu’il y a de changement ni de diminution.’ Reille was to hold the line Sorauren-Zabaldica for the whole day of the 30th, and then to follow Clausel with absolute secrecy and silence. Now, unfortunately, one cannot move 35,000 men on pathless hillsides and among woods and ravines in the dark, without many units losing their way, and much noise being made. And when one is in touch with a watchful enemy at a distance of half a mile only, one cannot prevent him from seeing and hearing that changes are going on. The orders were impracticable.
Such were Soult’s plans for the 30th. Wellington’s counter-plans do not, on the 29th, show any signs of an assumption of the offensive as yet, though it was certainly in his mind. They are entirely precautionary, all of them being intended to guard against the next possible move of the opponent. The troops which had suffered severely in the battle were drawn back into second line, Byng’s and Stubbs’s brigades taking over the ground held by Ross and Campbell. The 6th Division—now under Pakenham, Pack having been severely wounded on the previous day—occupied the heights north-west of Sorauren, continuing the line held on the 28th to the left. Both Cole and Pakenham were told to get their guns up, if possible. And when Lord Dalhousie came up from Lizaso after his night march, his division also was placed to prolong the allied left—two brigades to the left-rear of the 6th Division, hidden behind a high ridge, the third several miles westward over a hill which commanded the by-road Ostiz-Marcalain—a possible route for a French turning movement[969].
Originally Wellington had supposed that Hill would reach Lizaso earlier than Dalhousie, and had intended that the 2nd Division should come down towards Marcalain and Pampeluna, while the 7th remained at Lizaso to protect the junction of roads. But the storm, which smote Hill worse than it smote Dalhousie, had settled matters otherwise. It was the latter, not the former, who turned up to join hands with the main army. Accepting the change, Wellington directed Hill to select a good fighting position by Lizaso, in which he should place the two English brigades of the 2nd Division and Ashworth, while Da Costa’s Portuguese were to move to Marcalain[970], close to the rear brigade which the 7th Division had left in the neighbourhood. Thus something like a covering line was provided for any move which D’Erlon might make against the British left. Wellington was feeling very jealous that day of attempts to turn this flank, and took one more precaution which (as matters were to turn out) he was much to regret on the 31st. Orders were sent to Charles Alten to move the Light Division from Zubieta towards the high road that goes from Tolosa to Yrurzun via Lecumberri. In ignorance of the division’s exact position, the dispatch directed Alten to come down so far as might seem best—Yrurzun being named as the farthest point which should be taken into consideration[971]. This caused Alten to move, by a very toilsome night march, from Zubieta, where he would have been very useful later on, to Lecumberri, where (as it chanced) he was not needed. But this was a hazard of war—it was impossible to guess on the 29th the unlikely place where Soult’s army was about to be on the 31st. Another move of troops to the Yrurzun road was that Fane’s cavalry brigade, newly arrived from the side of Aragon, was directed to Berrioplano, behind Pampeluna on the Vittoria road, with orders to get into touch with Lizaso, Yrurzun, and Lecumberri.
Obviously all these arrangements were defensive, and contemplated three possible moves on the part of the enemy—(1) a renewal of the battle of the 28th at and north of Sorauren, with which the 6th and 7th Divisions could deal; (2) an attempt to turn the allied flank on the short circuit Ostiz-Marcalain; (3) a similar attempt by a larger circuit via Lizaso, which would enable the enemy to get on to the roads Lizaso-Yrurzun, and Lizaso-Lecumberri, and so cut the communication between Wellington and Graham. The third was the correct reading of Soult’s intentions. To foil it Hill was in position at Lizaso, with the power to call in first Da Costa, then the 7th Division, and much later the Light Division, whose whereabouts was uncertain, and whose arrival must obviously come very late. But if the enemy should attack Hill with anything more than the body of troops which had been seen at Ostiz and Lanz (D’Erlon’s corps), Wellington intended to fall upon their main corps, so soon as it began to show signs of detaching reinforcements to join the turning or enveloping column.
Soult’s manœuvre had duly begun on the night of the 28th-29th by the retreat of the artillery, the wounded, the train and heavy baggage towards Roncesvalles, under the escort of the dragoon regiments of Pierre Soult’s division, whose chasseur regiments, however, remained with Reille as ‘corps cavalry’. On the news of this move going round, a general impression prevailed that the whole army was about to retire by the road on which it had come up. This seemed all the more likely because the last of the rations brought from St. Jean-Pied-du-Port had been distributed on the battle-morning, and the troops had been told on the 29th to make raids for food on all the mountain villages on their flanks and rear. They had found little save wine—which was more a snare than a help. The perspicacious Foy noted in his diary his impression that Soult’s new move was not made with any real hope of relieving St. Sebastian or cutting the Allies’ communication, it was in essence a retreat; but, to save his face, the Marshal was trying to give it the appearance of a strategic manœuvre[972]. This was a very legitimate deduction—it certainly seemed unlikely that an army short of food, and almost equally short of munitions, could be asked to conduct a long campaign in a region where it was notorious that it could not hope to live by requisitions, and would find communication with its base almost impossible. It was true that convoys were coming up behind D’Erlon—one was due at Elizondo—but roads were bad and appointments hard to keep. There were orders sent to Bayonne on the 28th for the start of another—but how many days would it take before the army got the benefit?—a week at least. Men and officers marched off on the new adventure grumbling and with stomachs ill-filled.
The result of Soult’s orders was to produce two separate actions on the 30th—one between D’Erlon and Hill behind Lizaso, in which the French gained a tactical advantage of no great importance, the other on the heights along the Ulzama between Wellington’s main body and Clausel and Reille, in which the French rear divisions were so routed and dispersed that Soult had to throw up all his ambitious plans, and rush home for safety as fast as was possible.
The more important action, generally called the Second Battle of Sorauren, may be dealt with first.
At midnight Clausel’s two divisions on the heights, separated from Cole’s position by the great ravine, moved off, leaving their fires burning. By dawn they had safely arrived on the high road between Sorauren and Ostiz, and were ready to move on towards D’Erlon when the third division—Conroux’s—should have been relieved at Sorauren village by Maucune. But this had not yet been accomplished, even by five in the morning: for Maucune’s troops having woods and pathless slopes to cross, in great part lost their way, and were straggling in small bands over the hills during the night. They had only two miles to go in many cases, yet when the light came some of them were still far from their destination and in quite unexpected places. Conroux had disentangled one brigade from Sorauren, while the other was still holding the outposts, and Maucune was just beginning to file some of his men behind the barricades and defences, when the whole of the village received a salvo of shells, which brought death and confusion everywhere. During the night Pakenham and Cole, obeying Wellington’s orders, had succeeded in getting some guns up to the crest of the heights—the 6th Division had hauled six guns up the hill on its left: they were now mounted in front of Madden’s Portuguese, only 500 yards from their mark[973]. Of the 4th Division battery[974] two guns and a howitzer had been dragged with immense toil to the neighbourhood of the chapel of San Salvador, overlooking Sorauren, the other three guns to a point farther east, opposite the front from which Vandermaesen had attacked on the 28th.
This was apparently the commencement of the action, but it soon started on several other points. Foy had evacuated Alzuza at midnight, but having rough country-paths in a steep hillside as his only guides in the darkness, had not succeeded in massing his division at Iroz till 5 a.m. He then mounted the heights in his immediate front, pushing before him (as he says) fractions of Maucune’s division which had lost their way. His long column had got as far as the Col and the ground west of it, when—full daylight now prevailing—he began to be shelled by guns from the opposite heights—obviously the other half of Sympher’s battery[975].
Meanwhile Lamartinière’s division (minus the one battalion of the 122nd left to watch the Roncesvalles road) had moved very little in the night, having only drawn itself up from Zabaldica to the heights immediately to the left of the Col, where it lay in two lines of brigades, the front one facing the Spaniards’ Hill, the rear one a few hundred yards back. Foy, coming from Iroz, had marched past Lamartinière’s rear, covered by him till he got west of the Col. This division was not shelled, as Conroux, Maucune, and Foy had all been, but noted with disquiet that British troops were streaming up from Huarte on the Roncesvalles road, with the obvious intention of turning its left, and getting possession of the main route to France.
Wellington, as it chanced, was in the most perfect condition to take advantage of the mistake which Soult had made in planning to withdraw his troops by a march right across the front of the allied army in position. The night-movements of the French had been heard, and under the idea that they might portend a new attack, all the divisions had been put under arms an hour before dawn. The guns, too, were in position, only waiting for their mark to become visible—it had been intended to shell the French out of Sorauren in any case that morning. Wellington had risen early as usual, and was on the look-out place on the Oricain heights which he used as his post on the 28th and 29th. When the panorama on the opposite mountain became visible to him, he had only to send orders for a general frontal attack, for which the troops were perfectly placed.
Accordingly, the 6th Division attacked Sorauren village at once, while the troops on the Oricain heights descended, a little later, in two lines—the front one formed of Byng’s brigade, Stubbs’s Portuguese, and the 40th and Provisional Battalion of Anson’s—while Ross’s brigade and Anson’s two other battalions (the troops which had taken the worst knocks on the 28th) formed the reserve line. Preceded by their skirmishers, Byng’s battalions made for Sorauren, Cole’s marched straight for Foy’s troops on the opposite hills[976]. Farther to the right Picton had discovered already that there was no longer any French force opposite him, and had got his division assembled for an advance along the Roncesvalles road. He would seem to have been inclined to go a little farther than Wellington thought prudent, as there was a dispatch sent to him at 8 a.m. bidding him to advance no farther, until it was certain that all was clear on the left, though he might push forward light troops on the heights east of the Arga river. He did not therefore get into touch with Lamartinière on the mountain above Zabaldica for some time after Foy and Maucune had been attacked.
Meanwhile it was not only to the old fighting-ground of the 28th that the attack was confined. Wellington ordered Lord Dalhousie to emerge from the shelter of the hills beyond the left of the 6th Division, and to assail the troops below him in the Ulzama valley—that is Taupin’s and Vandermaesen’s divisions, halted by Clausel some way short of Ostiz, when the sound of firing began near Sorauren.
The French units which were in the greatest danger were the three divisions of Conroux, Maucune, and Foy, all suddenly caught under the artillery fire of an enemy whom they had not believed to possess any guns in line. Troops marching in column are very helpless when saluted in this fashion. Foy writes ‘we had not been intending to fight, and suddenly we found ourselves massed under the fire of the enemy’s cannon. We were forced to go up the mountain side to get out of range; we should have to retreat, and we already saw that we should be turned on both flanks by the two valleys on our left and right.... General Reille only sent part of my division up on to the high crests after its masses had been well played upon by an enemy whose artillery fire is most accurate[977].’ Now Foy could, after all, get out of range by going up hill—but Maucune and Conroux were in and about a village which it was their duty to hold, since they had to cover the retreat of Foy and Lamartinière across their rear. If Sorauren were lost, Reille’s two left divisions would be driven away from the main army—perhaps even cut off. Yet it was a hard business to hold a village under a close-range artillery fire from commanding ground, which enfiladed it on both sides, when the enemy’s infantry intervened. Pakenham sent Madden’s Portuguese round the village on the north—where they drove in one regiment[978] which Conroux had thrown out as a flank guard on the west bank of the Ulzama, and then proceeded to push round the rear of the place. At the same time the left wing of the troops which had descended from the chapel of San Salvador (Byng’s brigade) began to envelop Sorauren on the eastern flank. And frontally it was attacked by the light companies of Lambert’s brigade of the 6th Division.
Conroux’s first brigade (Rey’s) had succeeded in getting away to the north of the village before it was completely surrounded, and, after bickerings with Madden’s Portuguese and other 6th Division troops, finally straggled across the hills to Ostiz. His other brigade, however, and all Maucune’s division were very nearly exterminated. They made an obstinate defence of Sorauren for nearly two hours, till the place was entirely encompassed: Maucune says that he cleared a way for the more compromised units by a charge which retook part of the village, and then led the whole mass up the hill. The bulk of them scraped through, but were intercepted by 4th Division troops in the hollow hillside above. One whole battalion was forced to surrender, and great part of two others; there were 1,700 unwounded prisoners taken, of whom 1,100 belonged to Maucune and 600 to Conroux’s rear brigade[979].
Maucune’s division was practically destroyed: having reported 600 casualties on the 28th, he reported 1,800 more on the 30th, and as his total strength was only 4,186, it is clear that only 1,700 men got away. The general and the survivors rallied in to Foy on the heights above, along with the wrecks of Conroux’s second brigade, which lost 1,000 men: the first brigade, though less hard hit, seems to have had 500 or 600 casualties, and many stragglers. Altogether both divisions were no longer a real fighting force during the rest of the campaign.
Meanwhile, there had been a distinct and separate combat going on farther up the Ulzama valley. When the fighting in and about Sorauren began, Clausel had halted Vandermaesen’s and Taupin’s division at a defile near the village of Olabe, knowing that if he continued on his way towards Ostiz and Olague Reille’s wing would be completely cut off from him. Having seen suspicious movements in the hills on his left, he sent up two battalions from Vandermaesen’s division to hold the heights immediately beyond the river and cover his flank. The precaution was wise but insufficient: somewhere about 8.30 a.m. the British 7th Division, having received its orders to join in the general attack, came up from its concealed position in the rear, and fell upon the covering troops, who were driven off their steep position by Inglis’s brigade, and thrown down on to the main body of Clausel’s troops in the valley. There was close and bloody fighting in the bottom, ‘a small level covered with small bushes of underwood,’ but after a time the French gave way. Vandermaesen’s men soon got locked in a stationary fight with Inglis’s battalions, but the two other 7th Division brigades (Le Cor and Barnes) which had not descended to the river and the road, were plying Taupin’s column with a steady fire from the slope of the opposite bank, which made standing still impossible[980]. Having to choose between attacking or retreating, Clausel opted for the easier alternative, and drew off. In his report to Soult he gives as his reason the fact that Sorauren had now been lost, that Reille’s troops were streaming over the hills in disorder, and that it was no use waiting any longer to cover their retreat, which was not going to be by the road, but broadcast across the mountains. Accordingly he disengaged himself as best he could, and retreated up the chaussée followed by the 7th Division, which naturally took some time to get into order. Inglis’s brigade followed by the road, presently supported by Byng’s troops, who came up from the side of Sorauren at noon: the other two brigades kept to the slopes on the west of the river, turning each position which Clausel took up[981]. By one o’clock he was back to Etulain, by dusk at Olague, where he was joined by Conroux and the 3,000 men who represented the wreck of his division. Vandermaesen had been much mauled—and had left behind 300 prisoners, while many stragglers from his division, and more from both of the brigades of Conroux, were loose in the hills. It is doubtful whether Clausel had more than 8,000 men out of his original 17,000 in hand that evening. The survivors were not fit for further fighting[982].
Meanwhile, Reille was undergoing equally unpleasant experiences. He had stopped behind to conduct the retreat of Foy’s and Lamartinière’s divisions, when the unexpected cannonade, followed by the advance of the British infantry, showed that he was not to get away without hard fighting. When Pakenham attacked Sorauren, and Cole a little later crossed the ravine to assail Foy’s position, Reille tried for some time to maintain himself on the heights, but soon saw that it was impossible. He sent Maucune permission to evacuate Sorauren—of which the latter could not avail himself, for he was pressed on all sides and no longer a free agent. And having thus endeavoured to divest himself of responsibility for the fate of his right division, he gave orders for the retreat of the two others not by any regular route, but straight across country, up hill and down dale. The reason for haste was not only that Cole was now pressing hard upon Foy’s new position, but that Picton was visible marching hard for Zabaldica, with the obvious intention of turning Lamartinière’s flank. There was an ominous want of any frontal attack on this division—it was clear that Picton intended to encircle it, while Foy on the other flank was being driven in by Cole, and there was a chance of the whole wing being surrounded. Accordingly, at about 10 o’clock by Lamartinière’s reckoning, he began to give way in échelon of brigades, much hindered after a time by Picton’s light troops, who had now swerved up into the hills after him, and pestered each battalion when it turned to retreat[983]. Foy reports that his rear brigade and part of his colleague’s division were at one moment nearly cut off, and that he ran some danger of being taken prisoner. It evidently became a helter-skelter business to get away, and the French can have made no serious resistance, as Picton’s three brigades that day had only just 110 casualties between them[984]. The retreat was made more disorderly by the arrival of a drove of some 4,000 fugitives of Conroux’s and Maucune’s divisions, accompanied by the latter general himself, who had escaped over the hills from Sorauren, and ran in for shelter on Foy’s rear.
At about one o’clock Reille’s divisions, having outdistanced their pursuers by their rapidity, halted in considerable disarray in a valley by the village of Esain[985], where Reille tried to restore order, and to settle a practicable itinerary, with the object of rejoining Clausel. For reasons which he does not specify, he marched himself by a road down the valley, which would lead him to Olague, but told Foy to take a parallel track farther up the slope which should take him to Lanz, higher in the same valley. The partition was obviously made in a very haphazard fashion, for while the bulk of Lamartinière’s division, and the poor remnant of Maucune’s which preserved any order, accompanied the corps-commander, Foy found that he was being followed by two stray battalions of Gauthier’s brigade of Lamartinière, and by a great mass of stragglers, largely Conroux’s men, but partly also Maucune’s and Lamartinière’s.
Reille got to Olague at dusk and joined Clausel, but brought with him a mere wreck of his corps, probably not 6,000 men. For Foy never appeared—and never was to appear again during the campaign. He explained, not in the most satisfactory way, that part of his track lay through woods, where the sense of direction is lost, that he was worried by the reappearance of British light troops, who had to be driven off repeatedly, and that the stragglers smothered his marching columns and led them astray. Anyhow, he found himself at dusk at Iragui in the upper valley of the Arga, instead of at Lanz in the upper valley of the Ulzama—having marched ten miles instead of the five that would have taken him from Esain to Lanz. Picton’s light troops were still in touch with him, and he resolved that it was hopeless to try to struggle over mountains in the dark. Dropping into the pass that leads from Zubiri to the Alduides (the Puerto de Urtiaga), he marched for some hours more, bivouacked, and next morning descended into French territory[986]. He sent off the stragglers to St. Jean-Pied-de-Port—they sacked all the mountain villages on their way[987]—and took his own division at leisure down the Val de Baigorry to Cambo—having lost only 550 men out of his 6,000 in the whole campaign. Some critics whispered that, seeing disaster behind him, il a su trop bien tirer son épingle du jeu, and had saved his division, regardless of what might happen to colleagues—just as on the eve of Vittoria he had refused to join Jourdan, and had managed a safe retreat for himself. That it was not absolutely impossible to get away to the Bastan was shown by the fact that the two stray battalions of Lamartinière’s division which had followed Foy in error, branched off from him at Iragui and got to Almandoz, Elizondo, and the pass of Maya. Another lost party—the battalion and cavalry regiment which Lamartinière had left to cover the Roncesvalles road[988]—turned off at Zubiri and followed Foy’s route by the Alduides and Baigorry. Reille’s ‘main body’ was a poor remnant by the night of the 30th, after all these deductions had come to pass.
It must not be supposed that the operations of Pakenham, Dalhousie, Cole, and Picton during the morning of the 30th were left to the personal initiative of these officers. Wellington’s orders for the first move had been made on the spur of the moment, as the position of the French became visible at dawn. But after the capture of Sorauren, probably between 9 and 10 a.m., he issued a definite programme for the remainder of the day’s operations.
Picton was to pursue the enemy who had gone off north-eastward (Lamartinière) toward the Roncesvalles road. He was given two squadrons of hussars, and told to take his divisional battery with him.
Cole was to act on the massif between the Arga and the Ulzama, keeping touch with Picton on one flank and Pakenham on the other: if the enemy in his front (Foy and the wrecks of Maucune) made a strong stand, he was not to lose men by violent frontal attacks, but to wait for the effect of Picton’s turning movement, ‘which will alarm the enemy for his flank.’
Up the main road Ostiz-Olague there were to march Byng’s brigade, the 6th Division, and O’Donnell’s troops from the San Cristobal position (some six battalions). The 6th Division was to take its divisional battery with it.
Dalhousie should operate on the east bank of the Ulzama, keeping touch with Byng and Pakenham—he would be in a position to turn all positions which the French (Taupin and Vandermaesen) might take up, if they tried to hold back the main column on the high road. Like Cole, he was not to attempt anything costly or hazardous.
Finally, and here later news caused a complete alteration of the programme, Hill was to ‘point a movement’ from Lizaso on Olague and Lanz, if the situation of the enemy made it possible. Attacked himself by the superior numbers of D’Erlon’s corps, Hill was (of course) unable to do anything of the kind. Wellington seems to have suspected that he might be too weak for his task, and in the general rearrangement of the army sent him not only Campbell’s Portuguese brigade (which properly belonged to the division of Silveira, who was in person with Hill but only with one brigade, Da Costa’s), but also the Spanish battalions which O’Donnell had detached to Ollocarizqueta on the 27th[989], and finally Morillo’s division. These 7,000 men were started from their positions before noon, but did not arrive in time to help Hill[990]. A separate supplementary order went off to Charles Alten to tell him that the Light Division would not be wanted at Lecumberri, and should return to Zubieta.
The whole of this series of orders is purely offensive in character, and, as is easily seen, presupposes first, that a large section of the French army is retiring on the Roncesvalles road, but secondly that the main body is about to go back by Lanz, the Col de Velate, Elizondo, and Maya. Hence the heaviness of the column directed on the chaussée: if Wellington had dreamed that Soult was intending to send nothing back by the Roncesvalles road, and had started a vigorous attack on Hill that morning, the orders given would have been different.
Meanwhile, during the hours which saw the destruction of Clausel’s and Reille’s divisions, Soult himself was urging on D’Erlon’s corps to overwhelm Hill, and hoping for the early arrival of Clausel’s to lend assistance. Reille he had left behind as a containing force, and did not expect to see for another twenty-four hours. Soult informs us that he left Zabaldica and the left wing so early that he had no reason to expect the trouble which was about to break out behind him. He noticed Maucune’s division beginning to file into Sorauren, and passed Clausel in march on Ostiz, before the British guns opened, i.e. before 6 o’clock in the morning. But they must have been sounding up the valley before he reached D’Erlon on the heights by Etulain: he resolved to pay no attention to the ominous noise, being entirely absorbed in the operation which he had in hand.
D’Erlon was already in movement, by the valley of the Ulzama, and had just been joined by the cavalry, which had come up from the Arga valley by cross roads in the rear[991]. It was, of course, no use to him in the sort of engagement on which he was launched. The Marshal instructed him to push on and hurry matters, as there were reports from deserters that three hostile divisions were on their way to reinforce the British force at Lizaso. Accordingly D’Erlon, having discovered his enemy’s position with some little difficulty, for it lay all along the edge of woods, delivered his attack as soon as his troops were up. Hill, on news of the French advance reaching him, had evacuated Lizaso, which lies in a hole, and had drawn up his four brigades along a wooded ridge half a mile to the south, with the village of Gorron in front of his left wing, and that of Arostegui behind his right wing. The Portuguese brigade of Ashworth formed his centre: on the right was one regiment of Da Costa’s brigade which had been called up from the Marcalain road, on the left the other and the remains of Cameron’s brigade, which had suffered so heavily at Maya: Fitzgerald of the 5/60th was in command, the brigadier having been wounded on the 25th. Pringle’s brigade (under O’Callaghan that day, for Pringle was acting as division-commander vice William Stewart wounded at Maya) was in reserve—apparently distributed by battalions along the rear of the line. The edge of the woods was lined with a heavy skirmishing line of light companies, and the Caçador battalion of Ashworth’s brigade. Altogether there were under 9,000 men in line.
D’Erlon determined to demonstrate against Hill’s front with Darmagnac’s division, who were to hold the Portuguese closely engaged, but not to attack seriously. Meanwhile Abbé was to assail the Allied left, and also to turn it by climbing the high hills beyond its extreme flank, in the direction of the village of Beunza. He had ample force to do this, having the strongest division in Soult’s army—8,000 bayonets—and the only one which had not yet been seriously engaged during the campaign. Maransin followed Abbé in support. The arrangements being scientific, and the force put in action more than double Hill’s, success seemed certain.
It was secured; but not so easily as D’Erlon had hoped. Darmagnac, so Soult says, engaged himself much more deeply than had been intended. Finding only Portuguese in his front, he made a fierce attempt to break through, and was handsomely repulsed. Meanwhile Abbé, groping among the wooded slopes to find the flank of Fitzgerald’s brigade, missed it at first, and attacking the 50th and 92nd frontally, saw his leading battalions thrown back. But he put in more, farther out to the right, and though the British brigade threw back its flank en potence, and tried to hold on, it was completely turned, and would have been cut off, but for a fierce charge by the 34th, who came up from the reserve and held the enemy in check long enough for the rest to retire—with the loss of only 36 prisoners (two of them officers). The retreat of the left wing compelled the Portuguese in the centre to give back also—they had to make their way across a valley and stream closely pursued, but behaved most steadily, and lost less than might have been expected—though some 130 were cut off and captured. The right wing pivoted, in its withdrawal, on an isolated hill held by Da Costa’s 2nd Line, which was gallantly maintained to the end of the day. The centre and left lost more than a mile of ground, but were in good enough order to take up a new position, selected by Hill on a height in front of the village of Yguaras, where they repulsed with loss a final attack made by one of Darmagnac’s regiments which pursued too fiercely[992]. D’Erlon was re-forming his troops, much scattered in the woods, when at 4 p.m. there arrived from Marcalain the head of Campbell’s Portuguese brigade, followed by Morillo’s and O’Donnell’s Spaniards. Their approach was observed, and no further attacks were made by the French. D’Erlon winds up his account of the day by observing, quite correctly, that he had driven Hill out of his position, inflicted much loss on him, and got possession of the road to Yrurzun. So he had—the Allies had lost 156 British and about 900 Portuguese, of whom 170 were prisoners. The French casualties must have been about 800 in all, if we may make a rough calculation from the fact that they lost 39 officers—10 in Abbé’s division, 29 in Darmagnac’s[993].
But it is not to win results such as these that 18,000 men attack 8,000, and fight them for seven hours[994]. And what was the use of such a tactical success, when meanwhile Soult’s main body had been beaten and scattered to the winds, so that Reille and Clausel were bringing up 14,000 demoralized soldiers, instead of 30,000 confident ones, to join the victorious D’Erlon?
This unpleasant fact stared Soult in the face, when he rode back to Olague to receive the reports of his two lieutenants. It was useless to think of further attempts on the Tolosa road, or molestation of Graham. D’Erlon’s three divisions were now his only intact force, capable of engaging in an action with confidence: the rest were not only reduced to a wreck in number, but were ‘spent troops’ from the point of view of morale. The only thing to be done was to retreat as fast as possible, using the one solid body of combatants to cover the retreat of the rest. All that Soult afterwards wrote to Paris about his movements of July 31 being the logical continuation of his design of July 30—‘de me rapprocher de la frontière pour y prendre des subsistances, avec l’espoir de joindre la réserve du Général Villatte[995],’ was of course mere insincerity. He changed his whole plan, and fled in haste, merely because he was forced to do so.
One strange resolve, however, he made on the evening of July 30. The safest and shortest way home was by the Puerto de Velate, Elizondo, and Maya; and Clausel’s and Reille’s troops at Olague and Lanz were well placed for taking this route. This was not the case with D’Erlon’s men at Lizaso and the newly won villages in front of it. Instead of bidding the routed corps hurry straight on, and bringing D’Erlon down to cover them, the Marshal directed Reille and Clausel to leave the great road, to cut across by Olague to Lizaso, and to get behind D’Erlon, who would hold on till they were past his rear. All would then take the route of the Puerto de Arraiz and go by Santesteban. This was a much more dangerous line of retreat; so much so that the choice excites surprise. Soult told Clarke that his reason for taking the risk was that D’Erlon had got so far west that there was no time to move him back to the Velate road—which seems an unconvincing argument. For Clausel and Reille had to transfer themselves to the Puerto de Arraiz road, which would take just as much time; and D’Erlon could not retreat till they had cleared his rear. The real explanation would seem to be that Soult thought that the British column on the Velate road, being victorious, would start sooner and pursue more vigorously than Hill’s troops, who had just been defeated. If Reille and Clausel were pressed without delay, their divisions would go to pieces: D’Erlon, on the other hand, could be relied upon to stand his ground as long as was needful. If this was Soult’s idea, his prescience was justified.