Having crossed the Ebro on the 16th, Lord Wellington took up his quarters a few leagues from Vittoria; and on the 19th we came up with the French, who had taken a position in front of that town, their left posted on a range of heights. Our army having closed up on the 20th, on the morning of the 21st, General Hill’s division commenced the battle, by attacking their left on the heights of Puebla, and succeeded, after a most desperate and sanguinary contest, in gaining possession of them. When we descended the hill towards the river, the second division was warmly engaged, and the French commenced cannonading us from a small white village in front of Vittoria, where they had part of their army stationed. There was a brigade of our guns directing their fire towards this place when we were crossing the river along with the seventh division. Our attention was drawn to a young artillery officer who was with them, and who seemed to be very much frightened; for every time that either our own or the French guns fired, he ducked to the ground. Some of the men felt inclined to make game of him; but it only showed that fighting needs practice before people can take things easy. It is likely that it was the first time he had been engaged, and I have no doubt but he would eventually get the better of that custom. Those who have not known it by experience, can form no idea of the indifference with which our soldiers entered a battle after being some time in the Peninsula. As an instance of this, we were at one time lying opposite to the enemy, in daily expectation of being engaged. One of our men, (a Highlandman,) having lost the small piece of ornamented leather which is worn in front of the uniform cap, on taking off his hat for some purpose, the deficiency caught his eye, and, looking at it for a few moments, he said, very seriously, ‘I wish to God there may be an engagement to-day, till I get a rosette for my cap.’