_1845-1846. HOME SERVICE_
Leave Chatham--First railway experience--March continued--A
comparison--Chichester--Soldiers’ tea--Winchester--Forton
and Haslar--Naval Hospital--Sikh invasion--Regiments to India--
Experimental Squadron--Russians--Ibrahim Pasha--Regiments--
Volunteer for West Coast of Africa--Leave the Buffs--Hounslow
flogging case--Clarkson and slavery--Abolition.
Time-expired and some other classes of men not conducive to regimental
efficiency being discharged, soldiers and officers “set up” in respect
to kits and equipments, the order to proceed to Chichester was
received with acclamation, for in those days the reputation accorded
to Chatham as a station was by no means flattering. At the end of May
the Buffs marched merrily away; that is, marched on foot, for railway
communication had not yet connected Chatham with the outside world. A
few miles got over, and we were at Blue Bell Hill, the ascent of which
revealed to us in great variety and luxuriance forest, flowers, and
grass-covered patches; the summit reached, an extensive view of the
lovely vale of Kent stretched away beneath us, and in our near vicinity
the cromlech called “Kittscotty House”[66] attracted the notice of
those among us who were of antiquarian tastes.
At Maidstone the regiment had its first experience of transit by
rail. The art of “training” and detraining troops had not yet been
learnt; hence delay such as would now be culpable was unavoidable
before soldiers and their baggage were in their places, and a start
made. The line being open only to Redhill, all had there to alight,
the short journey to Reigate being performed on foot. Arrived at that
pretty town, we had our initiation into the system of billeting, the
officers being “told off” to the principal hotel, the comforts of
which made us speedily forget whatever disagreeables had attended
the proceedings of the day. Continuing our journey, we arrived in
succession at Petworth and Horsham, at each of which towns we similarly
enjoyed our billets; thence to Chichester. The approach of a country
gentleman to our Commanding Officer attracted our attention; the “halt”
was sounded; the word passed on that, on hospitality intent, he had
provided “refreshments” for all of us. His kind attention was highly
appreciated, acknowledgments expressed, he himself invited to dinner
with the officers at our new destination; then the march resumed, the
Buffs marching into quarters at Chichester on the fourth day of their
very pleasant journey.
Compared and contrasted with a march in India, that now over presented
some striking points of difference, not the least of which were
the absence of hackeries, bullocks, camels, elephants, and that
heterogeneous collection of “followers” comprised under the name of
“the bazaar.” Instead of tents and camp fare we had comfortable if
expensive entertainment at hotels, while our daily line of route lay
through rich, varied, and beautiful English scenery. But some of our
party looked back with fond remembrances to the freedom and feeling of
exhilaration attending the early morning march in India, dusty roads
and sundry other drawbacks notwithstanding.
The huts, literally “baraques,” assigned to us were old, dating from
the Peninsular War. From the restoration of peace they had been left
unoccupied until quite recently, when they were utilised in the first
instance for the temporary reception of men enlisted to form a new
44th Regiment, and subsequently by the 55th on its return from China.
The officer[67] who held the position of Barrack-master boasted of a
very honourable military “record,” he having been, if not the very
first, among the first to mount the breach at Badajos; yet, like many
others of his day, he had been thrown on half-pay at the conclusion
of the war, and so deprived of the chance of rising in the service.
From the residents of the cathedral city and its neighbourhood our
officers received much civility and hospitality. The cathedral, used as
a stable in the days of Cromwell, but long since “restored,” was often
visited, the circumstance that it had been transported from Selsey to
its present site adding to it many points of historical interest. But
to some among us Chichester had the great disadvantage of not yet being
in direct communication by railway with London, the journey to and from
the metropolis having to be performed by coach. A Bill had then only
recently been passed authorizing such a railway.
An event occurred while we occupied those huts which marked in its
way a stage in the advance of comfort and well-being of the soldier.
Hitherto his “regulation” daily meals were only two; namely, breakfast
at 8 a.m., dinner at 1 p.m.--an interval of nineteen hours being thus
left during which he had to be without food, unless he happened to have
spare money wherewith to supply himself at the regimental canteen or
public-house in town. The obvious drawbacks of such a state of things
had long been subject of representation, but hitherto unsuccessfully.
Now, however, in 1845, authority was issued granting the issue to the
men of a tea meal at 4 p.m. For a time the order was resented; that a
soldier should condescend to _tea_ was held to be against the natural
order of things, and to mark effeminacy. Soon, however, the measure
was appreciated by all, and drunkenness, at that time the bane of the
soldier, underwent a remarkable decrease.
Winchester, to which we next proceeded, had “for ages” been looked upon
as a favourite station by regiments. To some of us the many historical
associations connected with that ancient city became so many sources
of interest and objects of study. The commodious barracks, occupied
by the Buffs and Scots Fusilier Guards stood upon the site of what
had been a royal palace, and still earlier a castle. The city itself
dates back to B.C. 800. The cathedral--to which our visits became very
frequent--occupies a site whereon stood, during the years of Roman
occupation, an altar to Apollo, and, in times still more ancient, one
devoted to sun worship. Among other places of interest in and around
the city were the buildings to which more particularly are referred
the legendary stories of Saint Swithin of rainy fame; the ancient
hospital of St. Cross, at which travellers might claim a dole of bread
and beer; the world-famous school and college, both founded by William
of Wykeham, A.D. 1324-1404. Among favourite walks was that to “the
Labyrinth,” on the summit of St. Catherine’s Hill; several alongside
the banks of the Itchin, sacred to the memory of Izaak Walton, and that
to Twyford. In the churchyard of that place stood a remarkably fine
specimen of a yew tree, such as, in times long gone by, were preserved
in burial places, and so held in a manner sacred--for the purpose of
supplying yeomen with long-bows, in the use of which weapon those of
England so much excelled. The hill from which, in Cromwell’s time, the
city was bombarded was a favourite walk among us. So was the village of
Horsely, some few miles distant; its church associated with the author
of _The Christian Year_, the choir, consisting of various very ordinary
musical instruments, including a violin and clarionet.
On a day late in January, 1846, the Buffs proceeded by rail to
Portsmouth. Bitterly cold, wet and windy, was the weather; the streets
of that great naval port in some places inundated by the tide, so
that progress along them was by no means pleasant. By the floating
steam bridge the harbour was crossed, our regiment divided so as to
occupy barracks at Forton and Haslar respectively. With the companies
proceeding to the latter place I was detailed for duty. The quarters
consisted of huts, the one assigned to me so situated as to afford from
its window a near view of Spithead, and of the magnificent and graceful
sailing men-of-war vessels anchored there or manœuvring in the Solent.
An early opportunity was taken to visit the great Naval Hospital, near
to which my temporary residence was situated; and although in these
notes professional recollections are for the most part avoided, one
of the results of that visit was sufficiently interesting to be made
an exception to that rule. On a portion of the adjoining grounds, and
set apart for the purpose, a considerable number of mentally afflicted
patients, together with their attendants or keepers--their costumes in
every respect similar to those worn by the patients--were engaged with
apparent heartiness in what was a “rollicking” dance, to the notes of
several violins, the performers on which were presumably patients and
attendants. In the treatment of the patients all coercive measures were
absent; free association among them was permitted from time to time,
as we had seen; such of them as desired to work or labour were given
every opportunity of doing so, and for the special benefit of those
who desired to follow--in imagination--their seafaring life, a lake
with its fleet of boats was provided. Such were some of the measures
adopted in respect to this class of patients in 1846. The _Victory_ and
other “sights” connected with the great naval port were visited; but in
respect to these it appears unnecessary to enter into details, except
that all associations on board relating to England’s naval hero were
duly venerated.
Without previous warning news circulated that the Sikhs, in great
force, had crossed the Sutlej, and thus invaded British territory.
Then quickly followed intelligence that four severely contested
battles against them had been fought, their forces defeated, Lahore
occupied; Dhuleep Singh, a child, brought by his mother, the Maharanee,
to the camp of Lord Hardinge, the Governor-General, by whom his
“submission” was accepted. In those battles many officers fell, with
whom, collectively or individually, we had but recently, as already
mentioned, been most pleasantly associated, and whose fate we now
mourned. As fuller details became known, it appeared that on December
12, 1845, the Sikh armies, under the command of Lal Singh, crossed the
Sutlej, and by the 16th had strongly fortified a position taken up
by them on the left bank of that river. On the 13th the forces under
Sir Hugh Gough attacked and drove them from their position at Moodkee.
Following them to Ferozeshuhur, at which place they had meanwhile
entrenched themselves, he renewed his attack upon them on the 21st,
the terrible battle which was to ensue continuing during that and two
following days,--the issue, for some time uncertain, ultimately being
in favour of our troops. There it was that the 62nd, with whom but
lately we had been happy at Dinapore, having begun its advance against
those entrenchments with 23 officers, lost 17 of that number--8 killed
on the field and 9 wounded. But still another position, and it at
Aliwal, was taken up by the retreating Sikhs, where, on January 28,
1846, they were attacked by the forces under Sir Harry Smith. There the
16th Lancers performed the gallant deed of charging through a ghola
(or mass) of Sikhs, their substitute for a square; then repeated the
charge, destroying the enemy thus rode down. In the performance of
that heroic feat the regiment lost upwards of one hundred men killed
and wounded--that is, nearly one-third of their effective strength.
On February 10 the Sikhs were defeated, their forces destroyed up
at Sobraon, though at very heavy cost in killed and wounded to the
British. On that occasion the 50th lost in killed and wounded 12
officers, nearly all of whom were personal acquaintances, more or less
intimate of my own, and in addition 227 men. The 10th Foot, with which
I was destined to be subsequently associated, had in killed and wounded
3 officers, 3 non-commissioned officers, and 127 rank and file. Other
regiments engaged suffered heavily, for the Sikhs contended for their
nationality and class interests. The facts related give significance
to the intentions of Lord Ellenborough expressed in Gwalior, to lead
the troops thither direct upon the Punjab frontier. That plan was
disallowed, and so two years were given to the Sikh leaders wherein to
complete their arrangements for taking the offensive.
Orders from the Horse Guards directed that three infantry
regiments--namely, the 8th, 24th, and 32nd--should proceed to India
without delay. No less than six weeks elapsed, however, before they
sailed, the circumstance itself illustrating the state of unreadiness
for emergencies which then existed. The three regiments named were
destined to take their parts in arduous service in India, the first at
Mooltan, the second at Chilianwalla, the third at Lucknow.
The establishment of what was to be called our “Experimental Squadron”
at this time was justly looked upon as an event of great importance.
The fleet so designated consisted for the most part of sailing ships
of war, but comprised also several steam vessels, propelled by paddles,
the whole providing for spectators an unusual and magnificent sight as
they lay anchored at Spithead.[68] Between the lines passed the Royal
yacht, having on board Her Majesty the Queen. From the sides of each
successive ship thundered salutes; from their decks rose strains of the
National Anthem; from their yards, manned for the occasion, came hearty
cheers of loyalty. A brief interval succeeded; then simultaneously, as
if by combined movement, dropped the huge white sails; these gradually
filled to the breeze; away glided the fleet, followed by hundreds of
yachts, boats, and craft of all sorts. About this time also the then
strange sight was for the first time witnessed of a war ship, the
_Rattler_, sliding, as it were, out of Portsmouth Harbour, destitute
of sail or paddle, the first of her kind propelled by the Archimedean
screw.
The arrival at Spithead of the Russian war-ship _Prince of Warsaw_,
having on board the Grand Duke Constantine, escorted by two other
vessels, was to Portsmouth an event of interest and political
importance. The officers of the Imperial frigate were entertained at
dinner by those of the Buffs: an attention much appreciated by them.
Next day a party of us were most civilly received on board their ship;
in the course of that visit the circumstance made clear that our hosts
were well acquainted with the English language, as also with insular
manners and customs. But great was the contrast between conditions on
board and those of the “Experimental Squadron.” The Russian sailors
untidy and slovenly in appearance, the terms of their service severe,
inasmuch as after a period of twenty years in the Navy or Army the
reward to which they had to look forward was--emancipation; for as
yet they were serfs. According to their own accounts, the period of
obligatory service by officers was twenty-one years. Leave of absence,
if exceeding a total of one year during that period, had to be made up
by them; and if on any occasion absent from their ships or regiments
for more than four days, their pay for that time is withheld from them.
We congratulated ourselves that our position was in those respects more
fortunate than theirs.
About the same time Ibrahim Pasha came among us. The circumstance that
the comfort or otherwise of travellers across the desert between Cairo
and Suez depended much on measures directed by the Viceroy of Egypt,
added to other considerations, no doubt moved Admiralty and Horse
Guards to order that every attention should be shown to His Highness.
Among other displays for his gratification the troops in garrison were
paraded on Southsea Common. As he rode along the line, the impression
produced by his appearance and style was by no means favourable;
about fifty years of age, bloated in aspect, cruel and relentless
in expression, he looked in these respects a true descendant of his
father, Mehemet Ali.
In quarters at Portsmouth were the 13th Light Infantry, then recently
returned from India, their honours thick upon them, as “The Illustrious
Garrison.” The 74th, re-converted into Highlanders, paraded for the
first time in their newly-acquired uniform. In those regiments and
in the Buffs there was a large leaven of old soldiers who had not
risen beyond the ranks; the majority of the non-commissioned officers
were men whose locks were grey, some with sons serving as soldiers;
recruits were relatively few in number; barrack-room courts-martial
in full operation; crime, at least that _officially_ brought forward,
comparatively rare, though what in reality is quite another thing. That
the regiments so constituted were capable of the most arduous service
was proved by that of the Buffs in Gwalior, the 13th in Affghanistan.
The receipt from the War Office of a letter containing an offer of
promotion conditional on proceeding to the West Coast of Africa, though
a surprise, was not altogether an agreeable one, for hitherto the usual
designation of that part of the world had been “The White Man’s Grave.”
Official reports[69] regarding it referred to no later date than 1825;
but this is the result of reference to them:--In February of that year
a party of white soldiers, 105 strong, arrived at the Isles de Loss,
near Sierra Leone; at the end of eighteen months 54 of their number
were dead by fever, 8 by other diseases, 21 invalided back to England,
20 remained on those islands, scarcely any of them fit for duty. Then
followed a table by which, at the Gambia, the annual mortality of white
men was shown to have been at the rate of 1,500 per 1,000 average
strength. On the other hand, the proffered promotion would advance
me over one hundred and forty of my seniors; increased pay[70] would
be an immediate advantage, and, in the event of survival, increased
departmental position. The upshot of thought given to the subject was
that, in the expression common to the time, I volunteered for the West
Coast.
With regret and sorrow I ceased[71] to be a member of the distinguished
old[72] regiment, with the traditions and history of which, like all
its other members, I had become familiar. I had, moreover, formed
friendships[73] such as subsequent experience taught me existed only
between regimental officers during early life. The kindly expressions
addressed to me by the Commanding Officer on the occasion of the
farewell dinner, to which I was invited, impressed me in a manner not
to be forgotten, and are here alluded to as indicating the relations
then existing between medical and battalion officers.
No regular line of communication existed between England and the West
Coast of Africa; consequently, when orders to embark were received,
passage had to be negotiated for through the medium of a ship’s
broker, and so advantage taken of trading brigs or other small craft
proceeding, at irregular times, on voyages thither, either from the
Thames or Mersey. Several months elapsed before transport was obtained,
and, meanwhile, time was spent in visiting places interesting in
themselves or by reason of past associations.
At this time public attention became aroused to a state of ferment,
ostensibly because of the death of a soldier of the 7th Hussars at
Hounslow, after having been flogged to the extent of 150 lashes, in
pursuance of a sentence to that effect by court-martial, for having
violently and dangerously assaulted a non-commissioned officer of his
regiment. Medical opinion differed _in toto_ as to whether the death
was, or was not, the effect of the corporal punishment. But the case
was taken up and energetically debated, not only at public meetings
convened for the purpose, but also in both Houses of Parliament.
Whatever may have been its intrinsic merits, the case in question
undoubtedly led to the introduction of a Bill, the outcome of which was
that the maximum number of lashes to be inflicted was thenceforward
reduced to fifty. Instead of “unlimited” service as heretofore, the
period of a soldier’s engagement was reduced to ten years; and so,
it was hoped, encouragement held out for a better class of recruits
to join the ranks; desertion would be diminished, and the general
efficiency of the service increased.
In September, 1846, the death of Thomas Clarkson, at the age of
eighty-six, recalled attention to the subjects of slavery and the
slave trade, against both of which, for many years, his energies had
been directed. It was in 1720 that English opinion was first drawn to
the horrors incidental to that traffic. In 1787, by the efforts of
Clarkson and Granville Sharp, a Society for total abolition of the
system was formed. In the following year a Committee of the House of
Commons was appointed to inquire into the entire system; but not for a
considerable time could the objects of that Society be carried out, or
members of influence be induced to take interest in the Anti-Slavery
Association and its work. Suddenly, and as if through an accidental
occurrence, public opinion was aroused; that accident, the seizure in
the streets of London of an escaped slave, named Somerset--his late
master, the captor. In 1792, Wilberforce carried a Bill for the gradual
abolition of the slave trade. In 1805 the importation of slaves into
British Colonies, recently taken from Holland, was prohibited; a Bill
carried, by which such traffic after 1808 was declared illegal. In 1811
it was declared to be felony; in 1824 it was made piracy. In 1837, made
punishable by transportation for life. In 1838, complete emancipation
of slaves throughout all British possessions took place. We were soon
to see the results of those measures in what had once been one of
slavery’s most active spheres.