Daniel Nicol's Memoirs
with First Battalion
of Detachments

The Fruits of Victory

by Daniel Nicol

'THE French army must have suffered much more than we did; we may safely add one-half more. Some cannon fell into our hands, with a very few prisoners. The Spanish loss was about 1,200 killed and wounded; what they had missing no one could tell, as they went off to the rear in droves. Thus we may say a great battle was fought or trial of strength made for no important end whatever. The day after all this was over, a light brigade, three thousand strong, and a troop of horse artillery arrived from Lisbon under Brigadier-General Crawford. I suppose the French had got intelligence of this, which made them draw off and put the river Alberche betwixt us, and some despatches from General Jourdan fell. into our hands, telling Marshal Soult to march from Salamanca speedily by the Puerta del Banes and Placencia, there to be joined by the divisions under Ney and Mortier, and then fall on the rear of the British army.

This opened our eyes. There was only one way of avoiding this snare, and that was to retreat immediately across the Tagus by the bridge of Arzobispo, and take up a defensive position where provisions could be got for the army. I never received any correct intelligence of our army after the retreat, not so much even as a flying report.

'On the 31st July, Colonel Bunbury, commanding our battalion, got bread and aguardiente, which he divided himself among the wounded men in hospital. He expressed his satisfaction with our behaviour in the different actions in which he had had the honour to command us; and Sir Arthur, he said, had expressed his thanks to the first battalion of detachments for their bravery and good conduct in the night attack upon the hill and during the whole of the 28th, and he would not fail to represent it to His Majesty. Next day he sent a doubloon's worth of bread and two skins of wine for the use of the wounded. This was of more benefit to us than the fine speech he made yesterday, and was a great relief to every man in the hospital. He ordered all the battalion to be paid to 24th July - the last money I received for many a day; and he waited in the hospital until he saw the wounded men get their money, and was exceedingly attentive to us as far as lay in his power. Large parties of Spaniards were sent to gather the dead men and horses into heaps and burn them, for fear of causing a plague about the town.

'On the 2nd of August all the British troops marched off by daybreak - we thought to attack the enemy; but, to our horror, we found they had retreated, leaving us wounded men in a dreadful condition, without provisions, only a few surgeons, little medicine, and no attendants. About twelve o'clock Dr Beattie came in and desired every man that was able to make the best of his way after the army, for he expected the French in the town in a few hours. This caused a great consternation among us. I had been very cheery in the morning, but this made me change my tune. Spanish officers came through the church among us, bringing in mules and asses for those that were able to ride. Many tried to leave the place, but had to return before night; and many were obliged to lie down in the fields who never rose again.

Sergeant MacBean got a mule for himself and me, but by this time I could neither sit nor stand, my wound was so bad and my leg swollen. He got on andpranced down the centre of the church like a mounted hussar. I bade him God speed and asked him to tell my comrades - if ever he reached the regiment - where he had left me. When it was growing dark, who should come into the church, crawling on all-fours, but Sergeant MacBean! He crept in among the straw beside me, and we kept together until our wounds were healed over. So we were obliged to content ourselves and remain at the mercy of the French.

'There were about thirty French wounded men in the church, and well they could observe what was going on. They were in great terror for the Spaniards. Some of them got red coats, caps, Highland bonnets, etc., that they might pass for British. One tall, fine looking man got on a kilt, hose, and big coat. He was wounded in the shoulder, but could make good use of his legs, and was water-carrier for all about our corner, and was ready to help every one ; he would answer to no name but Grenadier "Sansculotte."

'On the 4th the Spanish troops left the town, and took their own wounded with them, but none of the British, who were left in a very helpless condition, more especially those belonging to our battalion, as we had nobody to take charge or yet attend us. I certainly blame Dr Beattie for this, as other corps left their assistant-surgeon, orderlies, hospital sergeant etc., while we were destitute of any assistance. On the 5th John Murray, who had been in the general hospital with the fever, came and found us in this helpless condition; and, poor fellow, although weak himself, yet having the use of his limbs, he did all he could to make us comfortable. He got us removed to the general hospital, a large convent in a fine airy situation.

We stationed ourselves in one of the passages on the second floor, and here we were for many a day beside some men of the 2nd battalion 24th Regiment. There were only four of our regiment left here that we knew of - namely, Sergeant Alexander MacBean, Donald Johnston, John Murray and myself. Murray recovered strength rapidly, and was made cook in the hospital; yet whenever his time permitted he gave us all the attention in his power. We were visited frequently by the general doctor, Higgins, who ordered us to dress each others wounds morning and evening.

'On the 6th the French entered the town and carried on a regular system of plunder, breaking open every shut door they found, and every article that was of value to them was carried off. A great quantity of provisions found hidden in the houses of the town from our armies was now distributed with a liberal hand by the French soldiers who did not forget their English enemies. I got a mattress and a set of red window curtains, which served me as blankets until I entered France. The indefatigable John Murray let us want for nothing he could get; he brought us soap, linen to dress our wounds, etc.

The French mounted a guard over this large convent, as much as to say, "You are prisoners of war." All who were able had liberty to go out and in through the day, and Marshal Victor gave strict orders to use us civilly, and not to take any article from us, but to purchase anything we had to dispose of.

For a few days our hospital was crowded from morning to night with French soldiers come to get a sight of the English wounded, and some to purchase shoes, which were in great demand. I sold a new pair for a dollar, not to be troubled any more, for I saw some taking them by force, and I remembered the order given to some of the British at Braga, to strip every French prisoner they saw with a good pair of shoes. On 7th August we got rations from the French, three pounds of coarse bread for every eight men, and a very small quantity of beef to make soup (boullion, as they called it), without salt or. vegetables.

The French got a regular market established in the town, which was more than the British or Spaniards could do while they had command of it; and it surprised us much that the people of the country would hide stores of provisions from their own army and ours, who were willing to pay ready-money for them. However, the French are good foragers, and I have seen at times much good come out of intended evil. Plenty of white bread, fruit, wines, etc., were brought into the market and sold for ready money.

'On 15th August we were alarmed by the French artillery firing - thought it to be some attack; but it turned out to be the birthday of the French Emperor. They fired at daybreak, mid-day, and sunset. On the 27th fever got in amongst us and swept away great numbers, especially men who had limbs amputated or were wounded, so as to be unable to attend to themselves; for men get selfish in the midst of misery, and if a man could not help himself, alas for him!

About this time a waggon attended every morning to take away the dead. The driver of this waggon I shall never forget. He was a very tall man in the dress of a French prisoner, with long black beard and moustaches--an ugly man. He stood in the middle of the passages and bawled out, making the place ring again,' Combien de mort Anglais le jour?' which is nearly, 'How many dead Englishmen to-day?' If there were none he would shrug his shoulders and mutter a curse; if one or more he seemed happy, saying ' Bon!' (Good). Then the wretch would seize the dead by the ankles and drag him off to his waggon. I heard he got a franc for every corpse he took out of the convent.

According to report, there were 2,600 British left here; but we were getting thinned rapidly by death and desertions. The French caused a general muster to be made, as some of our people had been caught and brought back while trying to make their escape. All who could walk were mustered and forty cartloads of wounded were sent off to Madrid; this gave us more room, but we were more strictly looked after by the French. My leg and thigh swelled to an alarming extent. The general doctor and Dr Taylor of the Sixty-sixth Regiment were for cutting it off; but to this I objected, and told them I might as well go to the grave with two legs as one.

I continued poulticing the wound with the bread that should have gone into my belly, and I suffered great pain. But I was relieved in an extraordinary manner. One night after it was dark a French drummer was pursuing a woman belonging to the Twenty-fourth Regiment in full flight along the passage, when she fell right on my wounded leg. I roared out, the woman shrieked, and the drummer, thinking he was to be attacked, drew his sword and went off cursing. I was in great distress and in a high fever all night; but next morning, on dressing my wound, seven small pieces of bone came out of it, some of them about the size of the teeth of a dressing-comb, and a piece of my trousers that had been driven in by the ball.

From this time I mended every day. I was attended by Sergeant MacBean, who was wounded in the hip which had now healed, and he could limp about on a stick, bring water, wash our linen, etc.; but one day he fell in the cook-house, and had to take to his bed, to my great loss and his own. However, this accident was fortunate for him, for his wound broke out afresh, and two pieces of his trousers were discharged. In a few days he was on his feet again, and he cut me some young olive-trees to make me a pair of crutches, and did everything in his power to get me mounted on these. My wound was skinned over on the 2nd of October, two months after I received it, and I began to look forward a little, for some weeks I had not expected to leave the convent but by the help of Combien de mort, the French waggoner. My first start out of doors was to the river Tagus, which ran past the foot of the garden, to wash my shirts. I sat in the sun till I got sick, and had to keep my bed with a kind of fever and ague, which went through amongst us.

'On the 5th November, Sunday, the hospital was visited by Marshal Mortier and his staff. He was a tall, stout man, with a star on his breast. He told us he was sorry it was not in his power to supply us with many things we stood in need of, but while bread was to be got for his own troops we should be first served. He said the French had used us better than our own army had done, in leaving us in the state they found us; for the Spaniards, being our friends, could have provided the means of transporting the wounded if our commanders chose; but instead of this we had been left a burden to the French army. He also told us that many British had made their escape; but some had been shot, and if any of us were caught in future a mile from the town we might expect to be served in the same manner. All this he said in English, and left, it is said, one hundred and sixty doubloons to purchase wine, rice, etc., for the use of the hospital. I believe it was entrusted to bad hands, and not half of it was expended in the use it was intended for.

'On the 7th November the French seemed in a bustle: drums beating, cannons driven to and fro, and planted in position on the roads leading from the town and by the riverside. A battery had been built at the end of the bridge across the Tagus, which had been repaired; but now the planks of the centre arch were removed and the French stores packed up. On our going for rations the commissary told us to reste tranquille, and the Spaniards would serve us out tomorrow. The Spanish troops remained in sight all day, and we thought they meant to attack the town and set us at liberty; but no such thing. The French marched out at night; we could see the fires of both armies, and supposed the French meant to begin the attack in the morning. But the Spaniards moved off; the French repaired the bridge in quick time, and sent troops after them, and more arrived from Madrid. Sergeant MacBean and many others resolved to make their escape; as the Spaniards were in the neighbourhood, they thought they might fall in with them before long.

On the evening of the 9th MacBean took leave of me for the second time. I gave him a loaf of bread, a small map of the country, and a letter to my mother. I never was more vexed in parting from any man, yet I advised him to start, he being married and a persevenng man, and likely to succeed in anything he took in hand. Next day I got out to market and bought some bread and grapes, etc., and found my money getting very small; yet I never spent money to such good purpose as at Talavera. There seemed to be a blessing in it, and I often had something extra when feeling badly.

'The French General discovered that many of our men had escaped since the Spanish troops came near. Early on the morning of the 12th, without previous notice, all the British officers, doctors, and every man that was expected to live were turned out to the square, and were put on bullock carts, and driven out of the town on the road to Madrid. We crossed the well-contested plain and the river Alberche, and saw many dead men's bones picked bare on both sides of the bridge, which was now repaired. Reached St Olala after it was dark; this town was nearly deserted by its inhabitants. The French guard were very kind to our wounded men, carrying those unable to walk from the carts into some stables, with their baggage, etc. Those troops that had fought in the field with us were always the kindest and readiest to assist us; when we had a guard of young conscripts they were very troublesome to every one.

13th. - To Ventas. It was dark before we reached it, although the French soldiers pricked the bullocks with their bayonets to get the carts on. This is a very slow method of travelling, and we all were very tired sitting huddled on the carts. Two of our people died on this day's march through fatigue and want of sustenance. We passed through a dreary, uncultivated country, with no houses between the stages, and no food could be got. In the afternoon we saw from a height the spires and part of the ancient city of Toledo, across an uncultivated plain to our right.

'14th.- To Pitho, a village within three leagues of the capital. The country begins to be better cultivated and more sheltered with trees, etc.; we had passed over but a barren waste since we crossed the Alberche.

15th.- Started before daylight to get early into the city. The French soldiers seemed very happy to get there, and so were we poor wounded prisoners; although we knew not what our condition was to be, we knew it could not be worse than it had been. We viewed the majestic appearance of the city, with its fine spires, domes, and churches, with the sun shining brilliantly upon them, as we approached it from the west, there being no hill to hide it from our view. The French cavalry was quartered in all the villages along the road, and sentries were placed on the tops of some the churches and high houses to observe the plain country, for fear of being surprised by the Spaniards.

'We crossed a shallow river by a stone bridge on the west side of the city There we saw hundreds of women washing on both sides of the river as far as we could see each dame on her knees with a board in front of her, rubbing and washing, and singing cheerily. A hardy race of ladies, I could see fiom their countenances; they sympathised much with us in our distress. We passed some avenues of trees up to the city, which is surrounded by an earthen wall, with gates and a strong guard of French at each entrance. We halted. Notice of our arrival was sent to the commandant, who ordered us round to the Puerta del Sol, a spacious square with many streets leading from it.

Crowds of people came round, asking when and where we were taken, and giving us bits of bread, money, etc., until the French soldiers drove them off with the butts of their firelocks. We were lodged for the night in the great military hospital. Each man received a small measure of wine and a piece of bread, of which we had much need. We thought the first stage of our misery was over.

More Spanish Adventures

Part 1: Sgt. Robertson's Memoirs of the Corunna Campaign

Part 2: Daniel Nicol's Memoirs with First Battalion of Detachments

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