Location: Navaleno, Castille, Spain
I rode into the camp at 0930 this morning and was stopped only briefly by the guards at the main entrance who demanded papers we did not have, however the sight of the uniform was eventually enough to allow our cart admission
The Tents and limbers of the Army covered the entire field, whilst in the fields for miles around were the tents and carts belonging to the camp followers; the wives and families, the weapon smiths, the cloth merchants and the beer vendors. The massed camp covered the land for as far as the eye could see, three divisions of the British army were arrayed here and there were still more men arriving.
I was greeted by Sergeant Major Hotston, the highest ranking member of the 42nd present in the camp. Major Robinson and Lieutenant Langley together with a good half dozen other members of the 42nd's grenadier company had been hauled up in the Somosierra defile with the royal artillery rocket battery (who's rockets had travelled ahead of them) and were still a day's march away, so that left but five of us and our sergeant major to represent the black watch. Apparently there had been a minor skirmish with the French the day before, but it had mainly been the vanguard of riflemen who had fought with but a single highlander to represent the Black watch.
My first duty on arrival was to collect water for the company. This sent me on an errand right over to the far side of the camp, through the fields where the camp followers camped. When I got there and started filling my buckets, I found myself embroiled with the local beer merchants. I managed to fill up the buckets before it got two nasty and returned to the SM's HQ with the buckets full and ready to decant into the men's canteens.
We formed up in a small group and marched onto the parade ground to practise our drill with the other divisions. We were detached as section 2 in Royal division, under Captain Proudfoot, by Major General Ellis Jones, along with just over a dozen men of the 2nd Queen's royal regiment of foot.
Practising manoeuvres beside us were County division under Major Parker with a section of a dozen men of the elite company of the 3rd east Kent regiment of foot, the "Buffs" whom I had fought beside before, and around eight men of the 44th east Essex regiment of foot.
Then there was a large amount of riflemen skirmishing across the field from the 3rd battalion of the 95th under Colonel Haynes, these were the only men currently there from our nominal division within the army normally under the major general's command.
We were in good form as we drilled though I, perhaps, was a little slow not having been long in the regiment. This was not helped by the orders given by captain Proudfoot which, through no fault of that gentleman's own, proved to be rather different from our own and confusing to say the least. Indeed as we practised one manoeuvre, which seemed very much like that performed by the musicians of a massed band as it folds on itself, a group of men from the sappers and miners corps standing watching us burst into hysteria.
We recieved the order to fall out and so we went back to our small camp, of but three tents, surrounding the cooking fire. I tucked into my army issue ration of bread, and cheese with a sour cooking apple I had picked on the way. The bread had been made moist so as to last longer and was especially crumbly and creamy. Just as I was crunching into the apple the alarm was raised and it became apparent that Frenchmen had been sighted
Across the field we had previously drilled upon, in the shadow of the forest that faced our camp, were positioned two French field guns, one fixed and one mobile. The men around them wore green jackets and looked like artillery of the imperial guard, but all Froggy uniforms look the same.
I had to discard my apple as we gathered around sergeant major Hotston and made our way up the hill to join with our Division.
As we walked out along the ridge of the hill towards the field I could see the French Chasseurs a chevals riding out of the forest and up the hill towards where we were marching. The riflemen ran forward to counter them, but before they could engage firing on the three French riders, a dozen 16th light dragoons and two riders of the 12th light dragoons. Our boys had ridden down from the far side of the hill, right on the French men's flank and they were certainly having the best of it.
With the threat of French horse gone from our minds we formed a line to the left of our three artillery pieces and opened up with a few volleys on the French mobile artillery. To our left County division was advancing on the French infantry and the fixed gun behind them and all across the centre the rifles were engaged in a fierce fire fight with the Voltiguers of the French, many of whom were wearing green trousers and armed with baker rifles. The deserters from the 95th whom I had seen yesterday evening. Across the field there were also those hangers on who pop up everywhere across these Peninsular battlefields; there were Spanish women running here and there with their muskets, the sappers and miners of our army also ran around the field with their pistols and spades and there were many others as well.
I was in the rear rank of our line, three in from the left. As we advanced we stopped a couple of times to fire off volleys at the French guns, after which we would reload and set out again. Suddenly the artillery turned its muzzle's gaze upon us and fired, tearing through the ranks of our formation. First fell one of the Queen's foot. As he dropped to the ground with a short cry, we let of another volley and advanced forwards across his broken body, reloading our muskets. Then fell the highlander ahead of myself. He had a wife and two children in the camp, one of whom was in the royal artillery battery behind us. However as I was ushered forward to fill his space, before the line let off another salvo, I did not think of their woes for it was I who now stood in the firing line. Suddenly an artillery shot burst apart in a flash of powder and earth to my right, but we formed calmly with all the discipline of Royal regiments and let off another burst of fire. Then fell the sergeant of the queen's foot, he twitched on the ground as the order came to abort the attack on the gun and fall back several paces. We brought our muskets up, made ready and shouldered them, letting off a volley but just as I was reaching down for another cartridge I saw the flash of the cannon ahead of us and felt the smack of grape hitting my leg. I fell to the ground just feet away from the 2nd's sergeant as my comrades fell back further, leaving me for dead, and letting off volleys as they went, but still losing yet more men. I propped myself up on my elbows and drank deeply from my newly painted canteen. It wouldn't be long before the French advanced bayoneting us as they went, or perhaps a horseman would ride over me and crush the life out.
The sergeant ahead of me murmured something about death not being all that bad when out of the smoke appeared a charming Spanish lady wearing a long black skirt, a deep purple doublet and a crimson head scarf. She knelt beside me and let off a shot from her musket at the enemy. The thought that she might be a looter never crossed my mind and it seemed perfectly obvious that she would ask me how badly I was. I believe I made to reply "madame I believe I am killed" but instead the words that came out were something like the following "Madame I believe I may yet live, just a touch of grape".
She helped me to my feet and, leaning on my musket, I hobbled back with her to where our artillery battery was. All the artillerymen were lying on the floor covered in sabre cuts, several of them twitching and many murmuring to each other. I propped myself upright on the ground and tucked into my last rations of the day as the charming woman who had saved my life disappeared across the field to continue helping our wounded and dying.
Captain Proudfoot was again marching the division back towards the gun that had torn our ranks apart. The line was moving at quiet some pace and his men were falling like dead leaves from a tree as the cannon roared its defiance. A few canister round later and Proudfoot lay himself wounded amongst the dead and dying remains of Royal division.
To the left the buffs and east Essex were surrounded, fighting on under the influence of the assistant adjutant general Peacock and Major Parker. Peacock fell under along with much of Parker's division and the major, his drummers and sergeant fled, running towards where I was sat chewing away at the remains of my rations, the French hot on their heels. I quickly packed away my bread bag and got to my feet, still supporting myself with my musket. The French pursued us up the hill with shouts of no prisoners. Myself, Major Parker, the buff's sergeant and four drummers from both divisions were now fleeing up the hill, a large grey bearded French sapper with axe in hand leading his company in pursuit. Across the field four or five riflemen were also slinking into the cover of the trees and the cavalry had fled back from where they came.
As we sat at the top of the ridge, a desperate band of men, the French turned back on the bodies looting and stripping before they disappeared back into the trees. I suspect this was a band of stragglers from Marmont's column who had stopped to loot and were now pillaging their way back towards his rearguard. No doubt they had seen the weak advance guard of the British army and taken it upon themselves to deal with it. We had been surprised and had paid for it. When the rest of our force arrived tomorrow it would be a sorry mopping up expedition they would have to embark upon.
The wounded were dragged back into the camp and I was loaded into a local carriage which left for a local pub many miles away. There I ate a hearty dish of meat and took a carriage for Portugal. My hope of being in Wellington's glorious army as it crossed the Pyrenees seemed unlikely now, I would be out of action for the winter at least.
