Lieutenant C. Leslie account of the Battle at Talavera ( 27th-28th July 1809)

Lieutenant C. Leslie (later Colonel) was a young officer with the 29th Regiment at Talavera. During the battle on the 28th July 1809, he was wounded in the thigh, about three inches above the right knee, from a shot. Below is his account of the Battle at Talavera:

To understand the positions on the field of battle, it may be stated that our line of defence ran from the Tagus on our right to a conical hill about two miles on the left. The town of Talavera, situated on the left bank of the river, was about half a mile in the rear, and the Madrid road running east from it was parallel to the Tagus at a short distance from its bank. On this road, and nearly half a mile from the town, stood a church, in front of which field-works were thrown up, and a battery of Spanish heavy guns placed on it so as to command the road and the space between it and the Tagus. This point became properly the right of our position. From this, and for a mile towards the left, the country was level, but covered with gardens, olive-groves, and vineyards, and was much intersected by thick earthen walls, which rendered it very defensible. Here the Spaniards were posted. From the edge of these wooded enclosures the ground was open, and began to rise gradually, until it reached the summit of a conical point of a range of green hills on the left. Beyond these hills, which were very steep, on the other, or north side, there was a valley, and beyond that commenced a broken rocky mountainous country, impassable for troops, which enclosed the position on that flank. The whole space from the enclosure to the hills was occupied by the British, who formed the left wing of the army, while some light troops and cavalry were placed in the village beyond. Near the British right flank, and just clear of the olive-groves, was a large knoll, on which some works were begun to be thrown up, and a brigade of British guns was placed there in battery. The bed of a dried-up stream, coming from the mountains, ran along the whole front of the position down to the Tagus. Between four and five o'clock in the afternoon our brigade moved off, left in front, between the Spanish lines. The Spaniards appeared very valiant, and cried out, “Rompez los Franceses.” We could now hear smart musketry firing going on between our advanced guard and the enemy. The sound of cannon and small arms seemed approaching us very rapidly. On getting clear of the enclosures and gaining the lower slope of the hill, our brigade, the 29th Regiment, one battalion of detachments, and one battalion of the 48th Regiment, was drawn up in rear of the front line. We could now see our advanced guard retiring across the plain, closely pursued by the enemy. A portion of the advanced guard moved directly towards us, and passed through our line, and proceeded to the different places in position. During this the French kept up a continued fire against them of shot and shell, which were now falling thick and fast amongst us. While this cannonade continued we were ordered to lie down. As the evening was now closing, and darkness began to prevail, we could discern the shells and time their course from the moment they left the mouth of the howitzers by their fuses burning like brilliant stars as they rose in the air, then rapidly descending right down upon us, or breaking over our heads. Many of us made narrow escapes, but on the whole no very serious loss was occasioned. The firing ceased, and all seemed hushed and quiet. We lay on the ground with our arms in hand. The night became very dark and gloomy. We had continued in this way nearly an hour, when in a moment, about nine o'clock, there opened a tremendous fire on the top of the hill on our left, and which seemed to have been taken up and ran down the first line in our front. It was now evident that the enemy had made a dash at this, the key of our position, and were in possession of the top, as we could, by the blaze of fire-arms and the flashes of light, distingusih the faces of the French and those of our own troops returning the fire. The 29th Regiment was immediately thrown into open column, left in front, and instantly moved up the hill to attack the enemy, directing our march between the fire of both parties. Without halting, our left made a dashing charge, and after a short but desperate struggle drove the French off the summit of the position. We then wheeled into line, advanced obliquely to our left, and opened our fire on the French reserves, which were pushing up in support of their discomfited comrades. This decided the affair; the enemy was completely overthrown and fled in confusion, leaving the ground strewed with their dead, dying, and wounded, among whom was the colonel of the 9th French Regiment, and quantities of arms and accountrements. During this affair, when we formed into line, our right companies were some way down the slope of the hill. We could see the French column moving up across our front, their drums beating the charge, and we could hear their officers giving orders and encouraging their men, calling out, “En avant, Francais !” En avant, mes enfants I But our well-directed volleys and cheers of victory stopped their progress, and their shattered columns returned in dismay. The wounded and the prisoners informed us that they were part of General Ruffin's division. The 29th Regiment took possession of the top of the hill, our colours being planted on the summit. It was evident that the troops posted on the hill had been surprised, owing, no doubt, to the neglect of the common precaution of throwing out piquets and a chain of sentries along their front. We understood that the corps consisted of the German Legion. General Donkin's brigade assisted us to repel another attack made during the night on our position. How we, the 29th Regiment, who were the right regiment of the brigade, got so gloriously into the fight I could not tell; but this I know, that as we were advancing up to the attack we came upon our next left regiment, the battalion of detachments, who appeared to have got into confusion, and we pushed our way through them to rush at the enemy. The gallant soldiers of the battalion seemed much vexed; they were bravely calling out, “There is nobody to command us ! Only tell us what to do, and we are ready to dare anything.” There was a fault somewhere. We afterwards found, on re-forming, that we had been the centre regiment, the first battalion of the 48th Regiment being on our left, and the battalion of detachments on our right. We had the good fortune to rescue our General Hill, who, in leading us to the attack, and being anxious to see what was doing in front, gallantly dashed on a little too far and got into the French ranks. They had seized the reins of his horse, and would have had him prisoner had we not immediately charged on and this rescued him. But Major Fordyce on his staff was killed, and Captain Gardiner mortally wounded. As soon as the 29th Regiment had established themselves on the hill, and we had reformed our line in a proper position, a corporal and three men of each company, under an officer, were thrown out as a piquet in front, and a portion formed a chain of sentries, while our line lay down, each man with his arms in his hands, and all upon the alert. Nor were these precautions unnecessary. The French piquets frequently during the night ducked up at various places, gave loud huzzahs, fired a volley, and then as hastily retired again. Indeed, we were so close that we could hear the French sentries challenging their visiting rounds, and calling out, “Qui vive !” On these salutes taking place we always stood instantly to our arms, and when the advanced piquet announced all quiet we lay down on the ground again. In some instances several advanced sentries of some of our regiments, being young soldiers, fired, so that the word “Stand to your arms” was frequently passed along the line. The Spaniards had also their alarm on the right, about midnight, but whether real or imaginary never could be ascertained. It was not confined to one spot, for it spread right and left, and they opened a running fire along their whole line, which lasted for some time, until many corps, scared by they knew not what, fled to the rear, and it was only with great difficulty, we were told, that they were brought back into their places in line again. From our commanding position on the hill we had a grand and sublime view of this midnight scene. The lengthened blaze of the Spanish fire, running up and down the lines, and the flashing of their artillery had a magnificent effect. While looking towards the enemy in our front, we beheld a kind of illumination moving in advance in certain directions. This was caused, no doubt, by a number of flambeaux, which they carried at the head of their reserves and artillery to enable them to find their various routes to their proper places in their position. About one or two o'clock in the morning of the 28th July the moon began to give some light. As it became stronger we could see black patches moving in the plain immediately in front of us, and then become stationary directly opposite to us. This was no other than their columns forming in mass for attack. We could also hear the noise of wheels and the cracking of whips as they brought up their guns to plant them against us. All this was extremely splendid and exciting, but nature will under all circumstances have her sway. No sooner was any alert over than we sank down and dropped asleep. Although I had no greatcoat or covering of any kind, and only an old tin pot which chance threw in my way for a pillow, yet I got two or three profound naps during the intervals we were allowed to rest. It may be naturally supposed that we looked most anxiously for morning, and as the day began to break all eyes were strained to discern the disposition of the enemy. As things became more visible a very imposing sight presented itself to our view. The whole disposition of the enemy's force could be clearly distinguished. In the first place, immediately beneath us was formed a heavy solid column on the brink of the ravine, with reserves in its rear, with field batteries on both flanks, and the guns already pointed towards us, while light troops were thrown out as tirailleurs to cover their front and prepare the way for a grand attack, which was evidently to be directed against us on the hill. At some distance to the right were formed other masses in like manner. Others were also formed in front of our allies the Spaniards. The columns of reserve, cavalry, spare artillery, and baggage extended a long way back in their rear. Our own lines presented an animated but not so formidable appearance, owing to the nature of our formation. Our front showed an extended line only two deep, with the reserve placed at various distances along its rear. The disposition made by our experienced commander seemed most perfect to meet the meditated attack, and as, after the enemy's first attempt on the previous evening, all our troops had got into the proper place assigned to them in our position, everything appeared in complete readiness for whatever might happen. TALAVERA As the sky began to redden with the first blush of the morning sun, a gleam of animation was thrown over both armies, which our elevated position enabled us to survey. The piquets in front were withdrawn, and our light company, and others of the brigade, were thrown out as skirmishers to cover our front. The still of the morning was broken by no warlike sound. A solemn silence prevailed on both sides. Our view was extensive, and the scene before us was most imposing and sublime. While we were contemplating this, Sir Arthur Wellesley rode up in rear of our regiment, the 29th, and then going to the front seemed to survey the enemy with great earnestness. Much about the same time we could plainly discern Joseph Bonaparte and a large suite of staff in his train coming up at full gallop in rear of the French masses in our front. All was yet breathless silence, when we perceived the smoke of a gun curling up in the air, and heard the report of a single cannon. This appeared to be the signal for putting the enemy's columns in motion. We were not detained long in suspense. In a moment a tremendous cannonade opened upon us on the hill, and on the regiment stationed on the lower part of the slope to our right. We could then see the French skirmishers dash up and push rapidly on, while the columns immediately in front of us got in motion, advancing towards us. It was now evident that the enemy intended if possible to turn our left, and to storm and seize the hill, the key of our position, which they had taken and lost the night before. General Hill, seeing the overwhelming force that was coming against us, gave orders that the light troops should be recalled, and the bugles sounded accordingly. The skirmishers were closing in and filing to the rear with all the regularity of field-day and parade exercise, which the General observing, called out, “D_____ n their filing, let them come in anyhow.” In order to cover the advance of their columns the enemy continued the terrific cannonade, which became so destructive that we were ordered to lie down flat on the ground. The shot flew thick and fast about us, but it went principally over us, the guns being too much elevated; but not so with the 45th Regiment below us on the right: we could see large gaps made at times in their ranks by the round shots. At length the French column of attack, which had pushed vigorously on notwithstanding the well-served fire of our artillery directed against them, began to approach us. We took no notice of them, but allowed them to come up pretty close to us, when our Brigadier-General, Richard Steward, said, “Now, 29th ! now is your time !” We instantly sprang to our feet, gave three tremendous cheers, and immediately opened our fire, giving them several well-directed volleys, which they gallantly returned; but we checked their advance, and they halted to continue the battle with small arms. We then got orders to charge, which was no sooner said than done. In we went, a wall of stout hearts and bristling steel. The French did not fancy such close quarters. The moment we made the rush they began to waver, then went to the right about. The principal portion broke and fled, but some brave fellows occasionally faced about and gave us an irregular fire. We, however, kept dashing on, and drove them all headlong right before us down the hill into their own lines again. We kept following them up, firing, running, and cheering. In the midst of the exultation, about seven o'clock A.M., I received a ball in the side of my thigh, about three inches above the right knee. The sudden and violent concussion made me dance round, and I fell on my back. I immediately put my hand on the wound, which was bleeding profusely, to feel if the bone of my leg was broken, and, to my great satisfaction, I found that it was not. As I found myself unable to rise, I called for assistance, but from the noise and hurry of battle no one seemed to take notice of me. At length my friend, Andrew Leith Hay, perceived me. He raised me up, and then, taking the musket out of the hand of Corporal Sharp of my company, he directed him to conduct me out of action, and to find out the surgeons. With his assistance, and that of another man, who was wounded in the arm, I limped off. In quitting the field, I passed near Sir Arthur Wellesley, the Commander-in-Chief. He looked at me, seeing the blood streaming down my white trousers, but he said nothing. I then passed through our second line, which, without, of course, being able to take any part in the action, was suffering much from round shot and shells falling amongst them. Indeed, I was nearly knocked over, and I made a narrow escape of being killed even at some distance in the rear. A shell came whizzing close to our heads, and alighted a few feet in front of us, throwing up the earth in our faces, but it fortunately bounded to the left down the slope of the hill, when it exploded. I soon afterwards reached my friend, Dr. Guthrie, who with his assistants were actively employed in amputing legs and arms. I have collected from the reports of various friends the following account of the continuation of the battle after I was wounded, and obliged to quit the field. Our regiment, the 29th, and the battalion of detachments pursued the defeated enemy even across the ravine where the reserve was formed. Our troops were recalled, but in retiring up the hill again they were exposed to a destructive fire from the enemy's guns. They reformed line again a little in rear of the crest of the position, so as to be covered as much as possible from the effects of the cannonade, which still continued along the whole line for upwards of an hour. However, on its ceasing, men from both armies were sent out to collect the wounded. They intermixed in the most friendly terms. Lieutenant Langton, of the 29th Regiment, gave to a French officer two crosses of the Legion of Honour, which had belonged to officers killed far up the hill. The destruction we had occasioned in the French ranks was evident to everyone. The whole face of the hill was covered with the dead and dying. All symptoms of strife had now ceased. The enemy lighted fires and evidently commenced to cook, while our brave fellows had only their morsel of biscuit and a mouthful of rum or wine. About twelve o'clock noon the enemy begun to get in motion again. Their reserve were seen closing up from the rear. It was evident a renewed attack was about to take place. Heavy masses were formed in front of the centre. Two large columns pointed to the valley on the left of the hill, and a body of light troops were seen moving to gain the distant range of hills on the other side of the valley, clearly demonstrating that they would endeavour to turn our left flank while they attempted to force our centre. To cover this disposition, about one o'clock P.M., they opened a general cannonade along our whole line, and a vigorous attack was made on our centre. The guards allowed the French column to come up quite close to them. When the guards advanced with a hurrah to meet them with the bayonet, they would not stand, but giving a rambling fire, they turned and fled. Flushed by this success, the guards followed them up too far, and left their flank exposed. Of this the enemy took advantage, and opened a destructive fire of guns and small arms. The guards, not having recovered their order after the charge, were in rather a perilous position. Sir Arthur Wellesley seeing this, ordered the 29th Regiment down to cover them; but as the regiment had suffered so much during the previous attack, the 48th Regiment was sent instead. Under cover of this corps the guards made good their way to the rear, where they re-formed, and again took their place in the position. Simultaneously with this attack on the guards, the enemy likewise attacked positions held by the 7th and the 53rd Regiments. While these several attacks were going on in the centre and right, the enemy also renewed their attempt on our left. A Spanish corps under General Basscourt was moved across the valley to keep the column, which had outflanked us in the mountain ridge in check. In this they effectually succeeded. After their defeat in the morning, the enemy did not venture to attack the hill again, but they endeavoured to push two large columns into the valley on its left, with a view of turning our position. To prevent this threatened movement, General Anson's brigade of the 23rd Light Dragoons and the German Legion received orders to check the advance of the French. The cavalry advanced gallantly, regardless of the fire of several battalions of French infantry. Unfortunately, the front of the enemy was protected by a deep ravine, which was found impassable for horses. A considerable body of the 23rd, however, succeeded in crossing it, and fell on two regiments of mounted chasseurs, which at once gave way. The 23rd was then charged by the Polish lancers and the Westphalian light horse, and was surrounded, broken, and half of them destroyed. However, this desperate charge and brave conduct of our dragoons so astonished the enemy that, seeing our other corps of light cavalry also formed ready to advance in the same manner, they brought their columns to a stand, and no further attempts were made to gain possession of the hill. The enemy being thus repulsed and defeated at all points, and having sustained a fearful loss of men, twenty pieces of cannon, and several thousand stands of arms, towards evening made dispositions for retreating, by drawing off their infantry under cover of their numerous cavalry, and before daylight next morning, the 29th July, they had all retired across the Alberche. General Robert Crawford having joined the army with the light brigade during the night, was instantly pushed on in advance, and he established his outposts on the right bank of the Alberche. The enemy continued their rear-guard on the opposite side until the 31st July, when they retired to Santa Ollala. The 29th Regiment had the honour of securing two banners, or small silk standards, termed in French fanions, belonging to the column which they defeated. On the top of each staff were plates with screw-holes, indicating unquestionably that eagles had been attached to them. The bearers, on finding their corps outed, had unscrewed the eagles and concealed them about their persons. The banners were picked up lying amongst the dead in front of our regiment. On their being carried to the commander-in-chief he most handsomely desired that the regiment should keep them as a memorial of their gallant conduct.

AFTER TALAVERA When I went to the rear after being wounded and found Dr. Guthrie, our surgeon, he examined my wound and pronounced it to be very severe, but he trusted that it would not prove dangerous. In about an hour afterwards, perhaps nine o'clock A.M., Lieutenant Stanus of our regiment was brought in also severely wounded. I found our new billet as comfortable as circumstances would permit. Our landlord, a kind-hearted person, procured everything for us we desired. But our wounds began to be very troublesome. Suppuration was proceeding, and sloughing took place, so we were obliged to keep applying bread poultices. I however had the good fortune to have a most charming nurse, no other than a daughter of our host. She was a nun of the Order of Saint Clare. The French having destroyed the convent, the establishment was broken up, and she had returned to take refuge in her father's house. She was dressed in a coarse grey habit. She was young, extremely beautiful, mild and noble in countenance, had a charming disposition and most engaging manner. She did everything in her power to assist us, getting bandages for us, preparing poultices, bringing in chocolate, and amusing us with cheerful conversation, relating to us curious stories of these eventful times. Fortunately, I understood a little the dressing of wounds. Our only medical attendant was a Spanish barber, who, according to the custom of the country, combined also the profession of surgeon. We employed him to operate on our chins, but dispensed with his attendance in his surgical capacity. After shaving me one morning, he produced a case of rusty instruments, and told me he was going to perform an operation “mui pelegroso,” no less than to take off the arm of a wounded soldier, out at the socket. I accompanied the army on a vehicle of the most primitive construction, being no other than a few planks nailed on a rude frame, with a pole in front, to which oxen were yoked. The frame was placed in two low wheels, each consisting of solid pieces of wood, into which the axle-tree was blocked, so that instead of the wheel going round the axle-tree, they all went round together, there being two pieces of wood under the frame on each side scooped out to fit the axle tree. The friction was very great, and occasioned a noise when in motion like the drone of the bagpipes. On this miserable machine we placed some straw covered with our blankets, and we were then laid upon it, with our small modicum of baggage for pillows. Four sticks were stuck into holes in each corner of the frame, and a blanket fastened on them, to form a canopy to protect us from the scorching sun; and two lean kine with slow and measured steps dragged us along. Such was our equipage. While at Badajos, the Commander-in-Chief, Lord Wellington, paid a high compliment to the 29th Regiment. It had suffered great loss at the battle of Talavera, and Lord Wellington, in a letter to Lord Castlereagh, 12th September, 1809, says :  “I wish very much that some measures could be adopted to get some recruits for the 29th Regiment. It is the best regiment in this army, and has an admirable internal system and excellent non-commissioned officers.” My wound was now quite healed up, but a general stiffness of the limb remained, accompanied at times with considerable pain, owing no doubt to some of the tendons having been injured, or the ball, which still remained in, pressing on some tender part. I however determined to rejoin my regiment, and accordingly on the 5th November I proceeded to Badajos. I got a billet in a handsome house, and found the lady of the mansion equally so, being a very interesting pretty young woman. She received me most graciously, showed me to a commodious apartment, and assured me that her husband would be happy to have me in his house. On my enquiring what her husband was, she replied that he was a colonello reformada—a colonel on the retired list. On my expressing surprise that one so young as she was should be the wife of an old veteran, as I supposed her husband to be, she with great naiveté replied, “He is a retired colonel, to be sure, but he is very robust, and very loving, still.” He proved rather a gruff person, nearer sixty than fifty. They very kindly cooked my dinner for me, making several savoury additions to my ration beef, and they sent me fruit and wine. Next morning they provided me with an excellent breakfast, and urged me to pass another day in their house, but duty called me to go on.