CHARTERS' VOW.
Sick, ill, without a horse or accoutrements, I was now little better
than a non-effective, and thus happily, was only a spectator of the
destruction of Cherbourg. I say happily, for France was the land of
Jacqueline, and I had not heart for the work of pillage and
destruction that ensued around me.
Lieutenant-General Bligh, an old and experienced officer, having
succeeded to the command of the troops, the squadron had sailed from
St. Helen's as before, under the pennant of Commodore Howe, who had
on board the _Essex_ his Royal Highness Prince Edward (afterwards
Duke of York and Albany) who was serving as a midshipman to learn the
rudiments of the sea-service for which he was destined, and in which
he died at an early age, with the rank of Rear Admiral.
On the 7th August, the squadron, consisting of five line-of-battle
ships, nine frigates, and ninety-eight transports, with other craft,
came to anchor in the bay of Cherbourg, which is one of the five
great _ports militaires_ of France, as the general had special orders
to destroy the whole place.
By this time a body of French troops of the line, in bright blue
uniforms, with some companies of the Irish Brigade clad in scarlet,
had intrenched themselves in a line which extended for four miles
along the coast, from Fort Ecœurdeville to two miles beyond
Cherbourg, and these hasty defences they strengthened by redoubts
mounted with cannon, most of which were twenty-four pounders.
In rear of this line were some corps of cavalry.
While Commodore Howe sent a bomb-ketch to anchor close off the town,
with orders to pitch a few shells into it from time to time, and thus
amuse or decoy the officer in command there, the British forces
landed three miles westward of Querqueville, the most western fort of
the bay. During the disembarkation several other bomb-ketches
shelled the line of intrenchments not only with explosives of the
usual kind, but from mortars loaded with musket balls, thus making
great slaughter with little or no risk to us.
As on the former occasion the flat-bottomed boats were hoisted out,
and the three regiments of guards, with the grenadier company of
every battalion on board the fleet, were first rowed ashore, and
formed in line upon a portion of the beach that was flat and open.
Each boat contained eighteen seamen and fifty grenadiers, and had a
red flag displayed at its stern.
Beyond the landing place opened a grassy hollow, with a pretty
village that crowned a steep eminence on the right flank; on the left
were thick green hedges enclosing orchards laden with fruit of the
most brilliant yellow and crimson colours, and amid these were seen
the serried files and glittering bayonets of the enemy.
This was a beautiful evening, when the summer sun of Normandy covered
all the fertile land and rippling sea with warm light, and bathed in
purple tints the undulating ridges of the Mont-du-Roule and of the
Boc-au-chat, while the waves that washed the sloping bastions of
Cherbourg, of Fort Royal, and those on the Isle Pelee, or those that
broke in foam on the rocks of St. Anne, seemed billows of liquid gold.
Puff--puff--puff--came the white smoke out from the green hedgerows
and glowing orchards, as the foe opened a running fire of musketry,
under which our grenadiers and Guards formed line, and rushing
forward with fixed bayonets and a hearty hurrah, drove in the French
out-pickets and stormed a breast-work that lay across the hollow way
beyond the beach.
So rapid was the advance, that in this encounter there were only
three privates killed and seventeen wounded; while _three hundred_ of
the enemy were killed or wounded, and among the former was a Captain
Macartney of the Irish Brigade, in whose pocket Hob Elliot of ours,
"found a letter," as the newspapers stated, "from a lady in London,
dated on the 30th ultimo, assuring him that we were about to pay
France a visit, and giving a particular account of our strength."
General Bligh took possession of the village of Erville, where
several Irish deserters came in to him with assurances that a great
force was coming against the British; but he declared that "if twenty
thousand came he would not retire until Cherbourg was in ruins!"
Having thus succeeded in turning the western flank of this famous
port, he encamped under canvas his whole force, which consisted only
of three battalions of the Guards, the 5th, 30th, 33rd, 34th, 56th,
67th and 68th regiments of Foot with those of Richmond and
Cornwallis; the Light Troop of the Greys and of five other corps,
making, with the artillery, in all about ten thousand men.
The night at Erville was lovely, the air serene and soft. Groves of
the wild mulberry bordered the camp, and others of orange and apple
trees loaded the night wind with perfume. The stars shone clear in
heaven, and the sky was blue and bright from its zenith to the far
horizon; but amid that calm scene there lay many a stiffened corpse
and gaping wound in the hollow way through which the foe had been
routed.
Lord Clare's Irish regiment, 700 strong, occupied Cherbourg, and the
Count de Raymond, a Maréchal de Camp, who commanded in chief, had
also under his orders Count Horions' new Regiment de Liege, with the
old battalions of Lorraine, Languedoc and Guienne; in all, with
militia, a force of about fourteen thousand men, was close at hand,
so a bloody resistance was anticipated by our troops upon the morrow.
The morrow came, and before daybreak the whole army was under arms,
and advancing, with the light dragoons in front, towards Cherbourg,
with drums beating and colours flying.
Some daring French artillerymen, who had been left in the solitary
fort of Querqueville, now opened a dangerous fire from a few pieces
of cannon as our troops advanced. This seemed to serve as a signal
to their comrades, who immediately abandoned Cherbourg _en masse_,
and without exchanging a shot retired to a place named St. Vallon,
nine miles distant.
The guns in Querqueville were still firing briskly, when a boat from
the Commodore's ship was seen pulling inshore to the westward of the
battery.
A dragoon being required to bear an order to the officer in charge of
this boat, a volunteer was requested for the duty, which was one of
great risk, as the grape from Querqueville was sweeping all the open
plateau to be traversed by the messenger.
On this, Charters immediately rode forward, "recovered" his sword and
presented himself.
"Why have _you_ volunteered for this?" asked Captain Lindsay, in a
tone of reproof.
"Why, sir?" repeated Charters, almost haughtily.
"Yes."
"Because, as the player says--
'I am a man
So weary with disaster, tugged by fortune,
That I would set my life on any chance,
To mend it or be rid on't'
Captain Lindsay, life is no longer a prism to me."
"Ride fast!" said the captain, briefly.
Charters shortened his reins, gave his grey the spurs, and departed
at once. As he proceeded towards Querqueville Point, the French
cannoniers redoubled their efforts to bring him down. He frequently
waved his sword as if in defiance, and escaped as if by a miracle.
Then on his descending to the beach, where some rocks protected him,
the battery turned its round shot and grape on the advancing boat.
Suddenly there rose from the sea and pierced the sky, the mingled
yell of many voices. A twenty-four pound shot had dashed the boat to
pieces, and twelve seamen and a little midshipman were seen
struggling and sinking amid the debris of oars, thwarts and planks,
while the French sent dose after dose of grape to kill the drowning
men.
The middy struggled bravely; being light, the waves bore him towards
the rocks, but Charters saw that unless succoured, the poor lad would
certainly perish amid the surf that boiled over the ridge.
He sheathed his sword, shook his gloved hand fiercely at the battery,
and urging his horse into the sea, even while the hissing grape sowed
it thick with tiny waterspouts around him, succeeded in grasping the
sinking lad by the collar, and turning the head of his gallant grey
toward the shore, he bravely battled with the surf, the long waves of
which, reddened by the sunshine, seemed to boil in fiery foam upon
the beach, and rolled over his shoulders, so that at times the
nostrils of his charger were only visible, yet he succeeded in
landing the half-drowned midshipman, and rode twice afterwards into
the sea to succour the seamen, but succeeded in saving only one.
This was done in the presence of the whole left wing of the army,
which gave him three tremendous cheers, and a few minutes afterwards
the grenadiers of Richmond's corps with the light troop of the Greys
made a dash at the fort, which immediately surrendered.
As the troops advanced into Cherbourg the French flag was pulled
down, and the Union Jack hoisted on the ramparts by the people in
token of capitulation, and ere long, the magistrates in their robes
and insignia of office came forth from the gates towards the land
side to meet General Bligh, who promised that save government stores
which he had special orders to destroy, all property should be
respected. Thus, by three in the afternoon our troops had peaceable
possession of the town and forts of boasted Cherbourg.
In the evening, the Greys, a troop of the 11th and a body of
grenadiers were pushed on towards St. Vallon, from whence a party of
French Horse, the hussars of Boisguiller, with the heavy dragoons of
Languedoc _checquered_, had advanced to reconnoitre or to skirmish.
As our light dragoons moved off, the aide-de-camp of the
commander-in-chief rode up to the troop of ours and addressing
Charters, said--
"You did three acts of great bravery to-day under the fire of Fort
Querqueville, but chiefly in saving the life of that midshipman."
"Sir," replied Jack, nonchalantly, "I only did the duty dictated by
common humanity; and I hope the little mid has dried his jacket by
this time."
"Do you know the name of him you saved?"
"Not I--never thought of such a thing."
"Well--that little middy was his Royal Highness Prince Edward, the
second son of the king; and I have it in command from
Lieutenant-General Bligh to compliment you, Corporal Charters, and to
say that you shall have the _first_ pair of colours that become
vacant in the force now under his orders."
The nut-brown cheek of Charters flushed, as he replied in voice
rendered husky by emotion--
"It is well, sir, and I thank the general. I have saved the lives of
men ere now; but they were merely private soldiers, _not_ royal
highnesses, so my humanity or bravery went for little."
"Charters, this bitterness and pride are your ruin," said the
aide-de-camp, who knew well the story of our comrade.
"Not so; tell General Bligh that I am not ungrateful, and that I
shall thank him from my soul, if, before I die, he replace upon my
shoulders those epaulettes of which they should never have been
deprived!"
"He will, Charters, and I shall be one of the first to welcome you
and to wet the new commission," replied the frank staff officer.
"Captain Lindsay, you had better form the two troops in squadron, and
make a dash at those advancing cavalry, as the ground is open here."
Indeed, while this conversation had been proceeding, the French
hussars and heavy dragoons, about one hundred and eighty in all, had
debouched from some hedgerows upon a piece of open moorland, with a
swallow-tailed banner of light blue silk flying in their centre.
Charters pointed to it with his sword, and said to Kirkton--
"You see yonder standard, Tom? Well--I shall fulfil my vow of last
night, or my horse shall go home with an empty saddle!"
Quietly and orderly as if upon parade in Hyde Park, the two troops
formed squadron; Captain Lindsay equalized them, appointed the troop
leaders and the serrefiles; he then took post half a horse's length
in front of the standard, which was borne by troop sergeant-major
Duff, and which was of scarlet silk embroidered with the thistle and
St. Andrew, the regimental motto, and the national one, _Nemo me
impune lacessit_.
I shall not attempt to describe the fury of the encounter that took
place, as I was not present. It was long, desperate, and hand to
hand. Charters unhorsed the cornet and captured the standard which
belonged to the Languedoc dragoons, who made a desperate rally to
recover it, and cut him off. For some minutes he and big Hob Elliot
were fairly surrounded by the enemy, but Captain Lindsay made a
gallant charge to save him, as he was a prime favourite with the
corps. In that charge the captain perished, but the French were
repulsed.*
* "Several skirmishes were fought by the out-parties of each army, in
one of which, Captain Lindsay, a gallant officer (of the Greys), who
had been very instrumental in training the Light Horse, perished."
Smollet, _Hist. of Eng._, vol. vi.
The squadron was brought out of the field by Lieutenant Douglas of
ours, and it was with a sad heart I saw them enter Cherbourg, bearing
across their saddles the wounded and the dead.
Among the latter was my poor friend Charters, slain by three
pistol-shots and eight sabre wounds, yet still grasping with a deadly
clutch the standard of the dragoons of Languedoc.
Hob Elliot carried his body out of the field.