_1848-1851. IRELAND_
57th Regiment--Enniskillen--War in Punjab--Weeding out--Routine--
“Albuhera day”--Ballyshannon--Sligo--Monro of the Blues--Orange
festival--General conditions--An execution--Surprise inspections--
Married--March to Dublin--Clones--Kells--Trim--Dangan--Maynooth--
Dublin--Duties, etc.--Civilities--Donnybrook--Medical staff and
Order of the Bath--Kaffir War--Adieu to 57th.
Gazetted[96] to the 57th, I joined that distinguished regiment at
Enniskillen, receiving from members of the “Die-hards” much civility
and courtesy as a new-comer among them. A few months passed,
and newspapers contained details of victory over the Sikhs at
Chilianwallah,[97] though at a British cost in killed and wounded of
89 officers and 2,268 soldiers. With a sense of relief, intelligence
by the following mail was read that crushing defeat had been inflicted
upon the enemy at Goojerat,[98] though with a loss to our forces of 29
officers and 778 men; the dispersion of the beaten army, the flight of
their Affghan allies towards the Khyber Pass--for disaffection on the
part of Dost Mahomed had not yet been completely appeased.
During winter the weekly route march, with its attendant little
incidents, furnished about the only events of regimental life that need
be alluded to. As an outcome of what was looked upon as a scheme of
“economical” administration proposed for political reasons, a reduction
in regimental strength was ordered, several soldiers weeded out of the
ranks in accordance with orders received. Not long thereafter public
attention was drawn to “The Defenceless State of Great Britain” by Sir
Francis Head, to whose book, so named, credit was given for measures
speedily taken to reverse the schemes of reductions in _personnel_ and
_matériel_ alluded to.
With the return of summer the routine of regimental life became again
pleasant as compared with the monotony incidental to the dreary months
of winter. The leave season over, the process of preparing for
inspection seemed the only object for which the regiment existed, men
and officers lived; for no sooner was the dreaded ordeal past and over,
than the process was resumed for that which was to come six months
later on. As so many interludes, entertainments given and received,
games, and “matches” of various kinds became so frequent as to be
looked upon as somewhat monotonous.
Exceptional in these respects was the anniversary, on May 16, of the
battle of Albuhera in 1811, on which occasion the 57th Regiment earned
the soubriquet of “The Die-hards,”[99] of which it is so justly proud,
the _esprit de corps_ maintained thereby as well as through anniversary
celebration being among its most valuable heritages. Then came the
birthday of Her Majesty; after it, the celebration of Waterloo, “the
credit of the regiment” being fully maintained on these occasions.
Trips in various directions by water and land proved to be most
enjoyable. Boating on the beautiful Loch Erne became a favourite
pastime, picnics on some of the many islands with which it is dotted
acquiring an interest of their own. Of those islands one has[100] a
semi-sacred character; upon it stand ruins of an ancient church,[101]
and, as believed, a still more ancient round tower. By road to
Beleek[102] and Ballyshannon was no less pleasant and interesting.
Around the promontory on which the first-named stands, the river Erne
rushes as a magnificent torrent; the second noted on account of its
“salmon leap,” and legendary story connected with the islet[103] at a
little distance seaward from the cataract. Extending our trip to Sligo,
we visited the ecclesiastical ruins and buildings pertaining to that
city. In proximity to one of them, several small heaps of human bones
lay among the grass, exposed to wind and weather. Inquiry elicited that
they were exhumed remains of dead prior to 1832, the great mortality
by cholera in that year rendering it necessary thus to “make room”
for interment of the numerous victims. But the necessity for leaving
exposed the vestiges of mortality was not apparent to us at the time.
At Bundoran I made the acquaintance of Lieutenant Monro, late of the
Blues, living in retirement, his prospects ruined as a result of the
duel into which he was forced with his brother-in-law, Lieut.-Colonel
Fawcett, 55th Regiment, whom he killed on that occasion. Coming as
that duel did not long after the “meeting” between Hawkey and Seton,
in which the latter received a wound that resulted in his death,
public opinion became aroused against the practice. Within two years
thereafter the Articles of War were so modified as to declare it to be
a military offence on the part of an officer to fight a duel or fail
to take measures to prevent one from taking place. For a considerable
time past there had been a growing feeling in the army and in civil
life against a system by which it was possible for the bully and the
aggressor to have an advantage as a “professed duellist” over the less
experienced adversary whom he might see fit to “call out.”
The celebration of the victory of the Boyne, July 1, 1690, and that
of Auchrim on 12th of the same month, 1691, was enthusiastically
observed. Processions of men, bedecked with the distinctive colour of
their party, led by bands of music and bearing with them a profusion
of flags, paraded the streets of Enniskillen. From many windows orange
flags and other party emblems were displayed; from the church steeple
festoons of orange-coloured ribbons waved in the breeze. In other
respects much of what was “demonstrative” in character took place,
but the general impression produced upon strangers and uninterested
spectators was not unlike that experienced as we looked in India upon
“religious” festivals.
The visit of Her Majesty to Ireland, and the prospect of a Levée to
take place in Dublin, attracted to that capital every officer whose
duties and position admitted of his being temporarily absent from his
regiment. The question of expediency of the Royal visit had for some
time previous been subject of conversation, nor was there an absence
of curiosity and anxiety in regard to the reception the Queen might
meet with on the occasion of her traversing the streets. Everywhere it
was enthusiastic, so much so that Her Majesty was much impressed. The
following day the Levée was held; some two thousand presentations were
made, and in the list of those who had that honour my name was included.
At this time the general state of things in our immediate neighbourhood
was this:--The intensity of famine by reason of the potato blight of
1847-8 had to some degree become lessened; favourable summer weather
had brought about an abundant crop of grain, relief works were in
progress, the expenses of administration out of proportion to the
meagre sums which actually reached the workers. All the while political
and religious antipathies manifested themselves in violent forms;
murders perpetrated in the close vicinity of our county town.
Some of the alleged perpetrators of those crimes underwent their trial
at the County Assizes. Two were convicted and condemned to death. On
the day of their execution a guard provided by the 57th was drawn up
at a little distance from the main entrance of the prison, where the
apparatus for carrying out the extreme sentence of the law was kept
in readiness. Behind the soldiers the large open space then existing
was crowded with interested spectators, the proportion of women being
estimated as four to one of men. The dread ordeal over, one of our men
was brought to the regimental hospital in a condition of delirious
terror, his delusion that one of the men executed was dangling over
his head. All means used to soothe or relieve him failed; his horrible
delirium continued with little or no interruption through some few days
and nights, only ceasing with his own existence, for the same terrible
impression haunted him to the very last.
The system of “surprise inspections,” at the time in force, applied
to regiments and departments; inspecting officers were wont to
appear without warning, such ordeals being over and above those
held in ordinary course of routine. That the higher authorities saw
good reasons for their action in this respect is not to be doubted.
Those reasons, however, did not transpire; but among our soldiers
the irritation caused by unusual proceeding went far to overbalance
whatever good might have accrued from it.
On the 14th of March, 1850, the most sacred event of a man’s life
occurred in mine--that event, my marriage[104] to Annie, daughter of
John Mackintosh, Esq., of Torrich. Time was pressing, for rumours
were in the air that the regiment was well up the roster for foreign
service. Leave of absence had accordingly to be curtailed; but, on
rejoining the 57th with my young bride, she was received with the same
kindness that had been shown to myself. Not many days thereafter,
she proceeded to Dublin, where, pending the arrival of the regiment,
including myself, she was most hospitably received by the family of a
brother officer.[105]
Our progress to the Irish capital included several days’ march; for,
although railway communication could have been made use of for part of
the distance, the authorities had decided that it should not be so. In
our march, we passed through or were billeted for a night at places in
relation to which history records a good deal of what is interesting.
For example, Clones has an ecclesiastical history dating back to
the sixth century; Kells, otherwise _Kenlis_, boasts of ruins of a
monastery, said to have owed its foundation to St. Columba; in near
proximity to Trim stands the rectory of Larour, the former residence
of Dean Swift, and near it a fragment of what had been the house of
Stella. The ruins of Dangan Castle in the near neighbourhood were
interesting, in that in them was shown to us an apartment said to have
been the actual birthplace of the Duke of Wellington--with what degree
of truth it was not deemed necessary to inquire.[106]
The village of Maynooth, at the time of our march through it, was in
appearance wretched and decayed, even as compared to others along our
line of route. At its eastern end is the avenue that leads to Carton,
seat of Ireland’s only duke.[107] But the name of the village has
become associated with its Roman Catholic College, which dates from
1795, and was endowed by Sir Robert Peel[108] with an income yearly of
£30,000--a measure much discussed at the time of our visit, as indeed
it has continued since to be.
Arrived in Dublin, the barracks assigned to the 57th were the Linen
Hall--old, and long before then condemned as unfit for occupation;
accommodation for all ranks insufficient. Thus my experience in
searching for lodgings began. Some months elapsed; then the regiment
was “broken up,” small parties distributed among various barracks, to
be, after another interval, collected in the Royal Barracks--large,
spacious, and, at the time, looked upon as well adapted for their
purpose.
Duty, relaxation, pleasure, as represented in Ireland’s capital,
succeeded each other among our officers. In accordance with rules
then in force, much of my own time was taken up in connection with
the more military functions of parades, drills, field days, and
ceremonial “trooping the colours.” Regimental entertainments, levées,
and “receptions” at the Castle were so many interludes in our general
routine.
In accordance also with the custom of the time, civility and attention
in various ways by learned societies and institutions were extended to
medical officers of the garrison, myself included. Access to lectures
in the Colleges was placed at our disposal; so was admission to the
Botanical and Zoological Gardens. Invitations to picnics and to boating
excursions in the beautiful bay further helped to render pleasant our
stay in Dublin.
The once famous Donnybrook Fair[109] had not then become a thing of the
past, although its extinction was approaching. The assemblage of people
on the occasion comprised the wild in aspect, dirty in person, squalid,
imperfectly clothed, all more or less strongly smelling of whisky, some
dancing to music of their pipes; but so far as we saw, without the
mirth, laughter, and other signs of Irish life of which we had heard so
much.
Through the advocacy of Sir De Lacy Evans, and almost by it alone,
officers of the Medical and Commissariat Departments were admitted
to the second and third grades of the Most Honourable Order of the
Bath.[110] In battles connected with recent campaigns, surgeons of
British regiments were exposed to fire of the enemy in a degree only
second to that of combatants, the casualties in killed and wounded
among them testifying to the risks ran by them in the performance of
their duties on those occasions. Other circumstances of military life
tell more against medical officers of regiments than those whose duties
are merely “combatant.” The combat over, the latter, if unscathed,
takes his rest, such as it may be under the circumstances, but the
most arduous duties of the former then begin. On marches incidental to
campaigns, the halting ground reached, requirements of the sick and
wounded must be attended to, often under great difficulties. In times
of epidemics, the combatant runs risks common to all; the surgeon, in
addition to them, is exposed to those incidental to close association
with subjects of those epidemics, together with mental and physical
wear and tear in the performance of professional duties. Hence arises
the proportionately high rates of mortality that prevail among junior
departmental ranks.
Some time thereafter, war was undertaken against the Kaffirs under
Sandilli, their chief. Eight infantry regiments were hastily dispatched
to take part in the coming campaign, and so the 57th was placed
among the first to proceed to the same destination in the event of
reinforcements becoming necessary. Married officers, therefore, lost no
time in forecasting arrangements to be made by them respectively in the
event of the anticipated contingency becoming a reality.
My personal arrangements in that respect became hastened by the birth
to me of a son.[111] Anticipating such an event, I had already opened
negotiations for exchange to a regiment serving in India, conscious
that colonial rates of pay and allowances were inadequate to meet the
needs of double establishments during war time. By-and-by the time
arrived when connection had to be severed with a regiment to which I
had become much attached, and of its traditions proud as any other of
its members. A farewell dinner, by invitation of Colonel Goldie[112]
and officers, and then adieu.