Curious Modes of Recruiting in the "Good Old Days"--Pig
Killing--The Late Duke of Kent--Examples of Brevity--Act of
Self-devotion--The Piper of the 74th Highlanders at
Badajoz--It is better to Leave "Well" Alone--Hard up! Hard
Up!--Remarkable Wounds and Hairbreadth Escapes--Introduction
of Bayonets into our Army, and the Use our People have made
of them since 1672, up to the late go-in in Egypt, at
Tel-el-Kebir--Desperate Defence of Colours--Heroic Stands by
Small Armies against overwhelming Odds--The 52nd
Regiment--The Old Suffolk Regiments, second to none--England
not a Military Nation?
RECRUITING IN THE "GOOD OLD DAYS."
When Queen Elizabeth resolved to assist Henry IV., of France, in raising
the siege of Calais, besieged in 1596 by the Spaniards, under Cardinal
Albert, Archduke of Austria, she commanded some levies to be raised in
England for this purpose, and the Lord Mayor and Aldermen of London
having received a message from the Court commanding them to raise 1,000
men immediately for the relief of Calais, proceeded on Easter Sunday,
1596, to the several Churches, with their constables, fastened all the
doors, and selected from the congregation the number of men required;
they were immediately equipped and sent to Dover, and from thence to
France. So much for the good old days of Queen Bess!
An Act was passed during the early part of Queen Anne's reign,
authorising Justices of the Peace to apprehend all such persons as had
no apparent means of subsistence, and deliver them to the military, on
being paid the levy-money allowed for passing recruits. This remarkable
Act was revived by George II.
The following is extracted from _Loyd's Evening Post_, published in
1759, and it shows how crime might be condoned by entering the army:--
"_Norwich, 4th August._--On Thursday last was committed to the Castle by
R. Brown, Esq., John Ludkins or Adkins, being charged on oath of
Elizabeth, the wife of W. Williams, victualler of Weybourn, in Norfolk,
with robbing her of 30s. He was committed a few weeks since to the City
gaol, for defrauding Mr. Thurby of £10, but made his escape out of
prison. He was afterwards re-taken, and on condition that he enlisted
for a soldier, which he accordingly did, prosecution against him was to
stop. He enlisted into the 56th Foot, and afterwards deserted." We are
happy to know that such good-for-nothing scamps would not now be
admitted into our service.
PIG KILLING.
Officers and men, during the Peninsular War, had a good eye for young
pork, and were not at all particular about knocking over a young
grunter. Complaints were brought to the late Duke of Wellington, but His
Grace's larder not being short, and not having much compassion for those
that were marching night and day, often with nothing to eat, he issued
the following Order:--
"G.O. No. 1. Officers and Soldiers are again positively
prohibited from pig-shooting. Anyone found disobeying this
Order shall be shot."
A far different kind of pig-killing is narrated in the following
truthful incident, which occurred during the War of American
Independence, in 1779. This war in America was rather a species of
hunting than a regular campaign. Washington understood it, for he told
his men frequently that if they fought with Art they would be sure to be
defeated, for they had no discipline and no uniformity. The Americans
had incorporated Indians into their ranks, who were very useful to them;
they sallied out of their impenetrable forests or jungles, and, with
their arrows and tomahawks, committed daily waste on the British. A
Regiment of Foot was at this time stationed on the border of a vast
forest, and its particular duty was to guard every avenue of approach to
the main body. Sentinels were posted pretty thick to keep a sharp
look-out upon the different outlets. But these sentinels were
continually being surprised upon their posts and borne off, without
communicating any alarm to the next sentinel or being heard of after.
Not a trace was left as to how they had disappeared; though on one or
two occasions a few drops of blood had appeared upon the leaves. Many
imputed this unaccountable disappearance to treachery, others to
desertion, but it was a mystery to all.
One morning, after they had taken extra precautions, they went to
relieve the post, and found both sentinels gone; the surprise was great;
they left another man and departed, wishing him better luck. "You need
not be afraid," said the good man, "I shall not desert." In due course
the relief returned, and, to their astonishment, this man was also gone;
they searched round the spot, but no traces could be found. It was
necessary that the post should be held, and they left another double
sentry, and when they came to relieve them, behold, they were both gone.
The superstition of the men was awakened; brave men had been lost whose
courage and honesty had never been suspected, and the poor fellows whose
turn next came to take the post trembled from head to foot. "I know I
must do my duty," one said to his officer, "but I should like to lose
my life with more credit." A man immediately stepped from the ranks and
desired to take the post. Every one commended his resolution. "I will
not be taken alive," said he, "and you shall hear of me on the least
alarm; at all events, I will fire my piece if I hear the least noise;
you may be alarmed when nothing is the matter, but you must take your
chance about that." The Colonel applauded his courage, and told him he
would be quite right to fire. His comrades shook hands with him and then
marched back to the guard house. An hour had elapsed, and no discharge
of musket, when, upon a sudden, the report was heard. The Guard
immediately (accompanied by the Colonel) advanced. As they approached
the post, they saw the man advancing towards them, dragging another man
by the hair of his head. An explanation was required. "I told your
honour," said the man, "that I should fire, if I heard the least noise."
I had not been long on my post, when I heard a rustling at some short
distance; I looked and saw an American hog, such as are common in the
woods, crawling along the ground, and seemingly looking for nuts under
the trees. As these animals are so common, I ceased to consider it for
some time, but being in constant alarm I kept my eye upon it, and it
gradually kept getting closer to my post. My comrades, thought I, will
laugh at me for shooting a pig. I had almost made up my mind to let it
alone, just then I observed it give an unusual spring; I no longer
hesitated, but took my aim and discharged my piece, and the animal was
stretched before me with a groan, which I knew at once to be that of a
human creature. I went up to it, and, to my astonishment, found I had
killed an Indian. He had enveloped himself in the skin of one of these
wild hogs, his hands and feet being entirely concealed in it. He was
armed with a dagger and tomahawk. The other animals disappeared as fast
as possible, for there were a number of them all around me. We could now
account for our sentinels disappearing; the Indians must have got close
up to the men, and, at an unguarded moment, sprung upon them, stabbed or
scalped them, and borne their bodies away. The Americans, we learnt,
gave them a reward for every scalp of a Britisher.
H.R.H. THE LATE DUKE OF KENT LEADING STORMERS AT MARTINIQUE.
It was a Brigade of Grenadiers, composed of the following Regiments, 7th
R.F., 8th, 13th, 15th, 23rd, 25th, and Flank Companies of the 60th,
63rd, and 90th Regiments, that Her Most Gracious Majesty's father, then
Duke of Kent, when about to storm Martinique, placed himself in front of
and thus addressed--"Grenadiers, this is St. Patrick's Day, the English
will do their duty in compliment to the Irish, and the Irish in
compliment to the Saint--forward Grenadiers." The Duke's aides-de-camp
both fell in the storm, and so did Martinique; and for many years, the
capture of Martinique was commemorated by a dinner at the United Service
Club, on each succeeding St. Patrick's Day.
EXAMPLES OF BREVITY.
General Sir R. Boyd was remarkable for the brevity of his despatches.
Whilst Governor of Gibraltar, he wrote an order to his Agent, Mr.
Browne, in England, for his own private stores in three words,
namely--"Browne, beef, Boyd," and the reply which accompanied the
stores, was equally good--"Boyd, beef, Browne."
Sir C. Napier, the conqueror of Scinde, sent the following despatch home
to Government, "I have Scinde;" he was requested to hold his own, but to
"sin" no more.
ACT OF SELF-DEVOTION.
During the War with America, in 1781, Corporal O'Lavery, of the 17th
Light Dragoons, was sent with the bearer of a despatch to Lord Rawdon.
On their way they were attacked and both severely wounded. The bearer
died on the road, and the corporal, taking the paper, rode on until he
fell from his horse from loss of blood. In order to conceal the
important secret contained in the despatch, should he be taken by the
enemy, he thrust the paper into his wound, which, although not mortal in
itself, proved so by this act. When found on the following day,
sufficient life was left in him to point to the fatal depository of the
secret. He was a native of the county Down, where a monument records his
fame, and the gratitude of his commander, Lord Rawdon:--
Nor shall the men of humble lot,
Brave O'Lavery and Smith, be forgot.
In life and death to honour just,
Neither resigned their sacred trust.
Such bright examples should be told,
Of hearts of more than mortal mould,
The youth in rank and martial station,
They form the bulwark of the nation.
BADAJOZ AND THE PIPER OF THE 74TH.
At the Siege of Badajoz, in April, 1812, when the final attack was made
on the night of the 6th April, amongst the foremost in the escalade was
John McLauchlan, the Piper of the 74th, who, the instant he mounted the
Castle wall, began playing the regimental quick step, "The Campbells are
coming," at the head of the advance along the ramparts, as coolly as if
he was on parade, until his music was stopped by a shot through the bag
of his pipes. He was afterwards seen seated on a gun carriage, quietly
repairing the damage, perfectly unconcerned about the shots flying
around him, and presently recommenced his animating tune. The poor piper
was afterwards cut in two by a cannon shot at the battle of Vittoria,
21st June in the following year, whilst playing his charming music in
rear of the colours of his Regiment.
IT'S BETTER TO LEAVE "WELL" ALONE.
The Governor of Gibraltar, during the siege by the French and Spanish in
1781, was surprised to see certain of the soldiers constantly
intoxicated, although the sale of spirituous liquors was strictly
prohibited. It was at length remarked that the men were desirous to
obtain water from one particular well in the Medical garden, and
considering that there must be a reason for the preference, it was
resolved to examine it, when the water was found to be strongly
impregnated with rum. This circumstance was accounted for by the fact
that the Governor had received a quantity of rum, and for its greater
security, and to keep it from the knowledge of the soldiers, had it
buried near the well mentioned, close to which a shell had exploded;
this, tearing up the earth, and bursting the casks, caused the spirit to
flow into the well. Another amusing anecdote of a well has been
preserved. During the Peninsular war, certain officers at the Mess table
were observed to decline the soup, which made the General at the head
of the table anxious to ascertain the cause, whereupon it was mentioned
that a French soldier had been discovered that morning in the well from
which the water had been obtained, in a state of decomposition. This did
not spoil the General's appetite, for it is said that he immediately
asked for another basin of soup, at the same time remarking that "it
would have been much better, and taste the sweeter, if the whole French
army, with Napoleon, had been in it."
"HARD UP, HARD UP, THE DAYS WHEN WE WERE HARD UP."
During one part of the Peninsular war our people were so hard up for
shot that they had to, and did, collect all the French shot that was
fired at us, and thus paid the enemy back in their own coin. A letter
from the Duke of Wellington to some of his friends at home thus referred
to it:--
Camp, Villa Fremosa, 11th May 1811.
"You at home will hardly believe that we are so hard up for
shot that we are compelled to pick up the enemy's shot in
our camp to supply our guns with."
My readers, perhaps, are not aware, that this practice was resumed
during the siege of Sebastopol; as will be seen by the following General
Order issued by Lord Raglan, 24th October, 1854:--
Camp before Sevastopol, 24th October, 1854.
The Commander-in-Chief is pleased to authorise the payment
of four pence for each small shot, and sixpence for each
large one, which may be brought into the Camp of
Lieut.-Colonel Gambier, Royal Artillery, near the Light
Division, by any soldier or seaman.
A number of our men might be seen, from morning until night, bringing
them in, and making a very good harvest, for they were plentiful all
around the town, particularly in rear of our 21-gun battery. This order
did not last long enough, for on the 4th November, 1854, it was
cancelled as follows:--
General Order No. 1, of the 24th October, authorising
payment for shot delivered at the Camp of the Right Siege
Train, is cancelled.
Therefore, it was not only food and clothing we were hard up for, but we
had actually no shot to use, and if the enemy had known it we should
have had to use the bayonet to defend our batteries with, though I
believe we should have managed to hold our own: but fancy the surprise
of the enemy when they found their own shot going back to them.
This was repeated in front of Delhi, in 1857; but the men in this
instance got grog for every shot they fetched, and we may rest assured
they got as many as they could.
REMARKABLE WOUNDS AND HAIR-BREADTH ESCAPES.
King William III had some remarkable escapes, for it is stated that at
the battle of Loddon, he was narrowly missed by three musket shots; one
passed through his periwig, and made him deaf for some time, another
through the sleeve of his coat, doing no harm, the third carried off the
knot of his scarf, and left a contusion on his side.
King Charles XII of Sweden, though repeatedly signalising himself in
famous battles, received no wound, but one evening, after fighting a
terrible battle against the Russians, as he was changing his dress, he
found a ball lodged in his black cravat, while another had passed
through his hat, and a third had broken his watch and remained in his
pocket at his left breast.
Lieut.-General Carpenter and the division under General Stanhope were
taken prisoners by the French and Spanish forces at the battle of
Brihuega, in the mountains of Castile, 7th December, 1710. On this
occasion General Carpenter was wounded by a musket ball, which broke
part of his jaw, and lodged under the root of his tongue, where it
remained several months before it could be extracted, and the pain, it
is needless to add, was very great, but he survived this remarkable
wound twenty-one years. He died on the 10th February, 1732, aged 75.
Captain Murray, of the 42nd Highlanders, was wounded at the battle of
Martinique in 1762, by a musket ball, which entered his left side, under
the lower rib, passed up through the left lobe of the lungs (as was
ascertained after his death), crossed his chest and, mounting up to his
right shoulder, lodged under the scapula. His case being considered
desperate, the only object of the Surgeons in attendance was to make his
situation as easy as possible for the few hours they supposed he had to
live, but, to the great surprise of all around, he was on his legs in a
few weeks, and before he reached England was quite recovered--at least
his health and appetite were restored. He was, however, never afterwards
able to lie down, and during the 32 years of his subsequent life, slept
in an upright posture, supported in his bed by pillows. He died in 1794,
a Lieut.-General and Colonel of the 72nd Regiment.
The following will prove that while there is life there is hope:--At the
siege of Gibraltar by the French and Spanish, during one of the attacks,
a shell came through one of the embrasures and killed a number of the
73rd (the present 71st), and wounded others of the same corps. The case
of one of the wounded was desperate, and it will serve to enforce the
maxim that, even in the most dangerous cases, we should not despair of
recovery whilst life remains. Pte. Pat Murphy was knocked down by the
wind of the shell, which, instantly bursting, killed and wounded all
around, and mangled him in a most dreadful manner. His head was terribly
fractured, his left arm broken in two places, one of his legs shattered,
the skin and muscles torn off part of his right hand, the middle finger
broken to pieces, and his whole body most severely bruised and marked
with gunpowder. He presented so horrid an object to the Surgeons that
they had not the smallest hope of saving his life, and were at a loss
what part to attend to first. He was that evening trepanned, a few days
afterwards his leg was amputated, and other wounds and fractures
dressed. Being possessed of a most excellent constitution, nature
performed wonders in his favour, and in eleven weeks his cure was
completely effected, and he long continued to enjoy a pension of
nine-pence per diem. These were the good old days.
W. Masters, Esq., who died in March, 1799, was a Colonel under the Duke
of Cumberland, and in one of the engagements was shot through the lungs
by a musket ball, which entirely cured him of a violent asthma. The Duke
used to say, when any of his friends laboured under that disorder, that
they must get shot through the lungs, like Masters.
Samuel Evans, a private in the 2nd Foot, was carried off amongst the
wounded at Corunna. He arrived in England, and died in the Military
Hospital, Plymouth, on the 30th January, 1809. On a _post mortem_
examination being made, it was discovered that he had been shot through
the _heart_, and yet had survived for sixteen days. His heart is
preserved to this day in the museum of the above-named hospital. Some
soldiers are as tough as old leather.
Sir Charles Napier's life is one justifying Lord Byron's remark, that
truth is stranger than fiction. In infancy he was snatched, when at the
last stage of starvation, from a vile nurse. When a boy, attempting a
dangerous leap, he tore the flesh from his leg in a frightful manner. A
few years later he fractured the other leg. At the battle of Corunna he
received five terrible wounds, and, but for the aid of a generous French
drummer, would have been killed. He was made a prisoner, and, his fate
being long unknown, was mourned as dead by his family. In the battle of
Busaco a bullet struck his face and lodged behind the ear, splintering
the jaw bone; yet, with this dreadful hurt, he made his way, under a
fierce sun, to Lisbon, more than 100 miles. Returning from France after
the battle of Waterloo, the ship in which he was, sunk off Flushing, and
he only saved himself by swimming to a pile, on which he clung until a
boat carried him off, half drowned. He escaped cholera, and a second
shipwreck, off the Indus. At Kurrachee, 13th September, 1842, he was
observing the practice of a rocket battery, when one of the missiles
burst, rocket and shell together, and tore the calf of his right leg
open to the bone. The wound was at once stitched up, and in a short time
he was able to set firmly on horse back, and then conducted a dangerous
war to a glorious termination. This gentleman was the brother of the
late Lieut.-General Sir William Napier, the author of "The Peninsular
War."
* * * * *
Perhaps one of the most singular wounds, ever received without causing
immediate death was the following:--Lieutenant French, of the 38th Foot,
on the 18th June, 1855, at the attack on the Redan, received a gunshot
wound in the upper portion of the left shoulder, which penetrated the
chest, and resulted in compression of the left lung, _and the removal of
the heart from the left to the right side_. He recovered, but his left
arm was powerless, and his general health very delicate. He died on the
9th Dec., 1857.
Major Sir Thomas Troubridge, Bart., of the 7th Royal Fusiliers, while
commanding a battery at the battle of Inkermann, 5th November, 1854, was
desperately wounded by a 42-pounder, and would not allow himself to be
removed, but remained at his post doing all he could to animate his
Fusiliers to acts of valour. Both his feet were carried away. The same
shot did a lot of damage. It carried away the calf of Captain Owen's
leg, and knocked over four or five men. After the action was over, Sir
T. Troubridge was attended to, one of his feet was amputated, also the
other leg just below the knee. This gallant old Fusilier recovered, and
strangers would scarcely know that he had been so severely wounded. I
was close to him when he fell. He died a few years ago, Assistant
Quartermaster-General to the British Army, Clothing Department. He had
two cork feet made, and could walk well with the aid of a stick. Capt.
Owen, of the 33rd, died from the effects of his wound, having suffered
severely for many years, the wound never having healed.
The following remarkable wound was received by a private of the 14th
Regiment during the siege of Sebastopol:--On the morning of the 25th
July, 1855, Private Francis O'Brien, a lad of eighteen years, was
brought from the trenches, with a wound from a musket ball in the right
temple. Surgeon De Lisle attended the case; the ball entered two inches
above the orbit, passed downwards and drove out a large portion of the
spina-orbital ridge, which appeared to be embedded in the upper eyelid,
and was cut down upon by the medical officer in the trenches, in mistake
for the ball, which it certainly very much resembled. As no ball could
be found, it was supposed to have passed out at the opening of entrance.
The finger, when passed into the wound, could feel the pulsation of the
brain, yet from that day to the present, or for years after, no symptoms
of cerebral disturbance appeared, unless it be that since his
convalescence, the muscles of the face work convulsively when he feels
faint and weak, from remaining too long in an erect posture. About a
month after admission to Hospital the detached portion of the bone above
the orbit was removed from the eyelid, though with considerable
difficulty, and on the following morning the ball fell from the wound,
much to the poor lad's horror, for he thought his eye had dropped out.
Both wounds have now been healed, but he is unable to raise the right
eyelid; the eye is perfect, but apparently without power of vision,
though sensible to the light, for on turning the wounded side to the
light the left pupil contracts. His general health is good.
A comrade of my own, Corporal Spence, of the Royal Fusiliers, received a
wound from a musket ball at the Alma in the right cheek, but took no
notice of it; thought it must have been a piece of stone; did not report
himself either wounded or sick. About 30 days afterwards he complained
of a stiff neck, but would not give in; day after day went on, it kept
getting worse and worse every day, until at last he could not move his
head, and a large lump was visible on the left side of his neck, about
two and a half inches from the ear. We all thought that it was a blind
boil, and so did the Corporal, and as he was for the trenches that
evening, and not one of those who would give in at trifles, he said he
would go to Hospital and get his boil lanced, and take up his duty in
the evening. He accordingly went to Hospital; Dr. Hale, V.C., examined
the boil, and applied the lance, and out came his friend from the
Alma--about an ounce of lead. It had worked round from the right cheek
to the left ear. The Corporal at once returned to his duty, and went
through the remainder of the campaign. He wore this little messenger on
his watch chain. He was for some years a Corporal-Major in the Oxford
Blues, and, as far as I know, is alive now.
The following instance of suspended animation, in the case of Sergeant
Bubb, of the 28th Regiment, is, perhaps, one of the most remarkable in
the annals of the Humane Society. Mr. W. H. Crowfoot, Surgeon, of
Beccles, was called professionally to Kessingland, on the 17th December,
1805, and met by accident a cart containing, as he was told, the dead
body of a soldier. The history of the supposed dead man was briefly
this:--The previous day, about eleven o'clock, after suffering shipwreck
with a part of the 28th Foot, he sank into a state of insensibility upon
the deck, where he remained during the night, and was said to have
perished through the inclemency of the weather. He was brought on shore
between 11 and 12 o'clock next day, and was left on the beach for some
two hours, under the conviction that he was dead. Mr. Crowfoot desired
to examine the body, and perceiving some warmth about the heart, he
resolved to use his endeavours to restore the poor man. To the
astonishment of all present, he very fortunately succeeded, after three
hours' unwearied application of the means usually employed on such
occasions.
The battle of Albuera, 16th May, 1811, is acknowledged by those who are
competent to judge, to have been one of the most desperate battles ever
fought between man and man. It was on this field that the 57th gained
the name they are now known by, "the die-hards." Their Colonel called
out, in the thick of the fight, "57th, let us die hard." They marched
into action 580 strong, and by 2 p.m. 22 officers and 430 men were
killed or wounded. Ensign Jackson carried the King's colours, and thirty
bullets passed through it. Nine balls passed through this officer's
clothes, and he received five wounds, one quite through his chest, but
lived upwards of forty years after.
The noble deeds of our forefathers, on the field of Albuera, will be
found in another part of this book under the head of desperate deeds.
I could greatly extend this list, but believe that sufficient has been
narrated to interest and excite the reader.
INTRODUCTION OF BAYONETS INTO THE ARMY.
The first allusion to bayonets in the English army is contained in the
following extract from a warrant bearing date 2nd of April, 1672:--
"CHARLES R.--Our will and pleasure is that the Regiment of
Dragoones which we have established and ordered to be raised
in twelve troopes of fourscore in each, besides officers,
who are to be under the command of Our most deare and most
entirely beloved Cousin, Prince Rupert, shall be armed out
of Our stores, remaining within Our office of the Ordinance,
as followeth: that is to say, three corporalls, two
sergeants, the gentlemen at armes, and twelve souldiers of
each of the said twelve troopes, are to have and carry each
of them one halbard, and one case of pistolls with holsters;
and the rest of the souldiers of the several troopes
aforesaid, are to have and to carry each of them one
matchlocke musket with a collar of bandaliero, and also to
have and to carry one bayonet or great knive. That each
lieutenant have and carry one partizan, and that two drums
be delivered out for each Troope of the said Regiment."
When bayonets were first introduced, and for years afterwards, they were
made to fit into the muzzle by a screw, and after the men had exhausted
all their ammunition, they would then fit them in and use them as
knives. This new weapon soon became a great favourite with our men. At
length the bayonet was fastened with a socket, which enabled the muzzle
to be left clear for firing. The following is from Grose's Military
Antiquities:--"In one of the campaigns of King William III in Flanders,
in an engagement, there were three French Regiments present, whose
bayonets were made to fix after the present fashion. One of them
advanced against the 25th King's Own Borderers, with fixed bayonets; the
commander at once ordered his men to screw their bayonets into their
muzzles to receive them. But to his great surprise, when they came
within a short distance, the French threw in a heavy fire, which for a
time staggered his people, who by no means expected such a greeting, not
conscious how it was possible to fire with fixed bayonets; but our
people soon recovered themselves and closed upon the enemy, and almost
destroyed them to a man." Almost all the battles that have been fought
for the last 200 years on land, have been decided by that never-failing
weapon. Artillery have been baffled, cavalry have been laughed at, but
the bayonet in the hands of a Briton has proved itself too much for both
black and white. Every battle in the Peninsula, from Roliça to Toulouse,
was decided by that weapon; every fortress was taken with it. Sebastopol
defied all the fire of Artillery; the bayonet had to do, and did, what
shot and shell could not. And the late go-in in Egypt has again proved
that, in the hands of determined men, it is an unconquerable weapon;
they may well call it the "queen of weapons." One of the most desperate
contests that ever was fought between man and man was at Albuera, 16th
May, 1811, and it was decided by the bayonet, the enemy being routed
from the field. As the great military historian, Sir W. Napier, says,
"This battle was to all human appearance lost; our Artillery were in the
hands of the enemy, the Cavalry riding all over the hill, spearing the
wounded, and cutting down all that resisted. The retreat had been
ordered by our Commander, Lord Beresford, but there was one on the
field endowed with the heart of a lion and the eye of an eagle; this was
the late Lord Hardinge, then Captain Hardinge, and Aide-de-Camp to
Marshal Beresford--he rode up to General the Hon. L. Cole, and ordered
him to advance with his brigade, and thus redeem the fortune of the day,
that all thought to be lost. The General, supposing that the order was
from the Commander, at once put his Fusiliers in motion; they consisted
of two battalions of the 7th Royal Fusiliers, and two of the 23rd Royal
Welsh Fusiliers. Such a line--such a gallant line--issuing from the
smoke, and rapidly separating itself from the confused and broken
multitude, startled the enemy's heavy masses, which were increasing and
pressing forward as to an assured victory. The Fusiliers wavered,
hesitated, and then, after vomiting a storm of fire, endeavoured to
enlarge their front, while a fearful discharge of grape from the enemy's
guns whistled through their ranks. The Colonel of the 7th (Myers) fell
dead, the Officers fell thick, and the Fusilier battalions, struck by
the iron tempest, reeled and staggered like drunken men. Suddenly and
sternly recovering, they closed on their terrible enemies, and then was
seen with what majesty the British soldier fights. In vain did Soult, by
voice and gesture, animate his Frenchmen. In vain did the hardiest
veterans extricate themselves from the crowded columns, and sacrifice
their lives to gain time for the mass to open out on such a fair field.
In vain did the mass bear itself up, and, fiercely striving, fire
indiscriminately on friend and foe; while the cavalry, hovering on their
flanks, threatened to charge the advancing line. Nothing could stop our
astonishing infantry; no sudden burst of undisciplined valour, no
nervous enthusiasm weakened the stability of their order; their flashing
eyes were bent on the dark columns in front, their measured tread shook
the ground, their dreadful volleys swept away the head of every
formation, their deafening shouts overpowered the cries that broke from
all parts of the crowd, as foot by foot, and with a horrid carnage, it
was driven, by the vigour of the attack, to the edge of the hill. In
vain did the French reserves join the struggling multitude, endeavouring
to sustain the fight; their efforts only increased the confusion, and
the mighty mass, like a loosened cliff, went headlong down the hill. The
rain flowed after in streams discoloured with blood, and 1,500 unwounded
men, the remnant of 6,000 unconquerable British soldiers, stood
triumphant on that fatal hill." Such was the advance of the Fusilier
Brigade; everything was carried by the bayonet. The whole French Army on
the field was swept off that fatal hill. But, to add to the horror of
the scene, at the close of the day our Artillery were compelled to
gallop over everything as they came past, with blood, brains, and human
hair upon their hoofs and wheels. They were compelled to ride over the
poor wounded, deaf to the cries of the brave fellows there laid
prostrate in the dust. Reader, what a scene! But such is war. This fight
had a wonderful effect upon the French, and, ever after that, they
approached the British Infantry with a secret feeling oi distrust, for
these never knew when they were beaten. Wellington, who came up with the
remainder of the army shortly afterwards, said "This victory will be as
good as 10,000 men to me."[29]
But the following is, without doubt, the crowning and most daring,
dashing, and dare-devil bit of work that ever took place: there is
nothing in military records to compare with it. The regiments that so
nobly upheld the honour of old England were the 5th Northumberland
Fusiliers and 77th Foot. It was at El Bodón, on the 24th September,
1811. It was not called a battle; our people were retiring to take up a
position, and the commander of the French, thought of either destroying
or capturing them before assistance could be brought up. But the Lion
was in their path. Their Cavalry repeatedly came thundering on, and our
little band was completely surrounded; but they kept sending a sheet of
fire into their assailants; our handful of Cavalry charged them at least
twenty times; our guns mowed them down with grape, but still the brave
sons of France came on, squadron after squadron. Our danger was now
imminent; our guns were in the hands of the enemy; the Artillery had
been cut down; our handful of Cavalry had been routed or destroyed. One
man, a dashing soldier--Major H. Ridge, of the Fusiliers--rushed boldly
into the midst of the French Cavalry with his Fusiliers; all was left to
the bayonet; the 77th nobly took the hint, and on they went too, with
their comrades, in a desperate headlong charge. It was Infantry charging
Cavalry, with that never-failing weapon, the bayonet. The enemy were
routed from the field and our guns re-taken. They were thunderstruck,
and could hardly believe it; they once more collected themselves, and
came down like lightning upon these devoted regiments; but were again
met with that nasty piece of cold steel, and thus these two noble
regiments held their own until assistance came up. The enemy had been
baffled at all points. Wellington might well thank them for their
conduct.
To enumerate all the noble deeds that have been done by the aid of the
weapon that King Charles II. introduced, in 1672, would be a matter of
almost impossibility; all enemies have trembled before it when in the
hands of Britons. It made the greatest General and Conqueror of Europe
tremble on the field of Waterloo, when he saw his Old Guard[30] driven
back by ours and the 52nd; they had been victorious in a hundred
fights, but even they, grim-faced veterans as they were, had to bow
before the British conquering bayonet.
Let us do justice, and give honour to whom honour is due. Some of the
most desperate deeds have been performed in all ages by our thin red
line, and the proudest and haughtiest of Adam's race have had to give up
the palm to our matchless Infantry. In the hour of need it has been
repeatedly proved--whether in the midst of the raging billows of the
fathomless ocean, or on land when opposed by mounted squadrons
glittering in steel-clad armour, or when manning field guns or heavy
ordnance, or storming the deadly breaches--that all, Europeans or
Asiatics, have had to acknowledge the sons of Albion, side by side with
the heroic sons of the Emerald Isle, the bravest of the brave.
The following will, perhaps, startle some of my readers; but facts are
stubborn things, and stronger than fiction. During the battle of Fuentes
de Oñoro, fought May 3rd and 5th, 1811, our Cavalry had to give way
before the overwhelming steel-clad squadrons of France, and Captain
Norman Ramsay's battery of Horse Artillery was cut off, through not
obeying his instructions. The French Cuirassiers were checked in mad
career, and squadron after squadron rolled up by our Infantry, that had,
to all appearance, taken root in the earth. But the gallant Norman
Ramsay and the whole of his battery, were prisoners of war. To quote
the fiery language of Napier, "Suddenly a great commotion was observed
in the main body of the enemy. Men and horses were seen to close, with
confusion and tumult, towards one point; there was a thick dust and loud
cries, sparkling of sword-blades and flashing of pistols, indicating
some extraordinary occurrence; when suddenly the multitude became
violently agitated; an English shout of triumph pealed high and clear;
the mass of the enemy was rent asunder, and lo, Captain Norman Ramsay
burst forth, sword in hand, at the head of his battery, his horses
breathing fire, stretched like greyhounds along the plain, the guns
bounding behind them like things of no weight, and the mounted gunners
following close, with heads bent low and pointed weapons, in desperate
career." This conduct of the gallant Ramsay, and his no less willing
troopers, completely bewildered the enemy, as he dashed through them and
at once brought his guns into action to support our hard-pressed
Cavalry.
The conquering sword of Wellington was in the ascendant. The hitherto
victorious legions of France had been taught some awkward lessons. On
the fields of Roliça, Vimiera, Busaco, Corunna, at the Douro, at the
lines of Torres Vedras, on the memorable fields of Talavera, grim
Busaco's iron ridge, and on the field of Fuentes de Oñoro, Napoleon's
maxim was again and again verified, viz., that moral strength in war is
to physical strength as three to one. He that had subdued the whole
continent of Europe proved, on the memorable field of Waterloo, the
truth of his own maxim, for our Cavalry on that field rode through and
through his veterans, though mounted and clad in glittering steel, and
even the grim-faced Old Guards had to bow before our conquering swords
and bayonets, directed by the master-mind of the conqueror of Assaye.
"Nothing could stop the astonishing Infantry!" I feel a soldier's pride
in again jotting down this line, as the words have reference to the
headlong charge of the Royal Fusiliers and the Royal Welsh Fusiliers, in
chasing the whole French army off the blood-stained Heights of Albuera,
with the bayonet. But all the brave sons of Albion were not in those two
noble regiments--the 3rd Buffs, the 31st, and the 57th, nobly stood
forth; while the 3rd and 57th died almost to a man, so to speak, and
then would not yield. It was on this field that the 57th gained their
present nickname (the "die-hards"). Their Colonel, noticing the
overwhelming numbers of the enemy all around them, called out in a voice
of thunder, "Fifty-seventh, let us die hard;" and so they did. The
battle only lasted four hours, but out of 580 that they went into action
with, they left upon the field, 22 officers and 430 men. The Buffs were
almost annihilated, but they would not give in.[31] Fifteen thousand
poor fellows lay upon that dreadful field, and nearly all had fallen by
the bayonet. It was the thin red line that decided the battle. Again,
the bayonet decided the field of Barossa, the 87th Royal Irish Fusiliers
ending it in a very summary way, with a headlong charge, led on by
Colonel Gough (afterwards Field-Marshal Lord Gough). Almost every battle
that Lord Wellington fought, in India, Spain, Portugal, France, and the
Netherlands, was decided by that nasty little bit of cold steel. At
Inkermann, if the enemy had not fired a shot, but simply marched on,
they would have walked over us--weight of numbers would have done it;
but there again the ugly cold steel stood in the way. Not all the
persuading of their princes or officers, high and low, could induce them
to come on and finish us off; they wanted to stand and fire at us, but
did not like to have any closer acquaintance with us. But that would not
do; they would have shot down every man of us; so we kept going at them,
and giving them hints that we did not require them in our camp. At
length, with a desperate charge, a very great number (from 2,000 to
4,000) were hurled over a precipice, almost perpendicular, and perished.
It was the Zouaves, side by side with our people, who put them over this
nasty place; or they must have been mobbed over by their own comrades in
trying to avoid our conquering bayonets. After peace was proclaimed, I
went into the Valley of the Tchernaya, and, true enough, there they lay
in hundreds--they had never been buried. Some of our men found medals
still hanging to their clothing. The bones of many of them had been
bleached, but still lay there--evidences of the horrors of war.
Sebastopol, after 1,600,000 shot and shell had been fired at it, had to
be carried by the bayonet, and it was done with a terrible slaughter.
Lucknow, after having been twice relieved, was finally taken by that
never-failing weapon. The supremacy of Old England has frequently been
left in the hands of a few desperate men. Our power in the far East has
in more than one or two instances trembled in the balance. This was the
case on the memorable field of Ferozeshah, December 21-2, 1845; but it
was in the hands of men who knew how to die. Lord Gough commanded, well
supported by the hero of Albuera--Lord Hardinge, and that Christian
hero, Havelock, was there encouraging his men. All had to be left to the
bayonet to shift the Sikhs from their formidable intrenchments. Again
the supremacy of Old England hung in the balance on the heights in front
of Delhi. But at the deadly breach, at the Cashmere Gate, that ugly
piece of cold steel again settled all. It was too much for the
black-hearted murderers of defenceless women and children, although they
knew they had no mercy to expect. At Tel-el-Kebir, the Egyptians were
soon shifted by the same means, and the trenches and batteries that they
had thrown up with so much labour were made a little too hot for them.
In fact it is as I have repeatedly called it, the "queen of weapons,"
and will be so as long as we have an enemy to face.
COURAGE DOES NOT COURT DANGER NEEDLESSLY.
A valiant man
Ought not to undergo or court a danger,
But worthily, and by selected ways,
He undertakes by reason, not by chance.
His valour is the salt t'his other virtues
They're all unseasoned without it.
_Johnson._
This chapter could be extended to the dimensions of a large volume. Our
forefathers have repeatedly stood as conquerors on many a hard-fought
field. Battles have been lost by bad generalship or by reason of the
overwhelming numbers of the enemy, and then won back by determined
pluck. And surely it could be said of those who fought on the memorable
fields of Alma, Balaclava, and Inkermann, that they had not degenerated
from those who fought and conquered under the great dukes of Marlborough
and Wellington! The same may be said of those who upheld England's
honour, under Nelson, Gough, Brown, Picton, Crawford, Campbell, Raglan,
Evans, Burgoyne, Graham, Jones, Havelock, Lake, Baird, Olpherts,
Windham, Hodson, and Hills. And, reader, we have now as good men to lead
us as ever our forefathers had; a number of them have already shown to
the world the metal they are made of, and--
That nothing could daunt, nothing dismay,
These island warriors of this day
Through all the changes of the fray,
No matter how the battle sped,
Unbroken stands that line of red,
Majestically firm.
That conquering thin line,
Yea, that line of red that never yields!
Victorious on two hundred fields.
DESPERATE DEFENCES OF COLOURS.
At the battle of Dettingen, 27th June, 1743, Cornet Richardson, of
Legonier's Horse, now the 7th Dragoon Guards, carried one of the
standards. He was surrounded by the enemy, and called upon to surrender;
but refused, and received upwards of thirty sabre cuts and shots in his
body. The standard was much damaged, but with manly fortitude, and with
the soul of a hero, he succeeded in cutting his way through a host that
threatened his destruction. This dashing young officer recovered from
his wounds, and was presented by King George II. with the standard he
had so nobly defended.
* * * * *
In the action at Rusheck, 18th May, 1794, Private Michael Mancely, of
the 8th Royal Irish Hussars, received several wounds while defending the
standard of his regiment; although desperately wounded, he retained
possession of it; his horse was killed under him, and he then defended
himself and his standard on foot. He managed to carry it off and hand it
over to one of his officers, and then lay down and died.
* * * * *
I must here give a brief account of the heroic defence of the colours of
the 3rd Buffs on the field of Albuera. Ensign Walsh prevented the
colours of his regiment from being taken at this battle. The staff was
broken by a cannon ball, and the young hero, dangerously wounded, was
left on the field for dead. He had more thought for his precious charge
than for his life; and, with what little strength he had remaining, he
tore the flag from the broken staff and concealed it in his bosom, next
his heart, where, next day, when his wounds were being dressed, it was
found. The other colour of the regiment was defended and preserved in
the following heroic manner. The Sergeants who defended the colour were
all shot down, and the enemy's Hussars surrounded the officer, Ensign
Thomas, who carried it. He was called upon to give up his charge, but
that noble son of Albion's answer was "Never but with my life," and his
life was the forfeit of his refusal, but he lived long enough to know
that the colour was eventually preserved. It was re-taken from the enemy
in the headlong charge of the 7th Royal Fusiliers, which charge
supported by the 23rd Royal Welsh Fusiliers changed the fortune of the
day. Sergeant Gough, of the 7th Royal Fusiliers, was the man who re-took
the standard, for which he received a commission, but the chief honour
is due to Lieutenant Latham, of the Buffs; he saw the danger of this
colour being borne off in triumph from the field by the enemy, and his
whole soul being alive to the honour of his Corps, he ran forward to
protect it. The devoted officer who had defended it was lying apparently
dead. Lieutenant Latham arrived at the spot in time to seize the colour,
and defended it with heroic gallantry, surrounded by a crowd of
assailants, each of whom wanted the honour of capturing it; the
Lieutenant, bleeding fast from wounds received in defending his precious
charge, armed only with his sword, refused to yield. A French Hussar,
seizing the flag-staff and rising in his stirrups, aimed a blow at the
gallant Latham, which failed in cutting him down, but sadly mutilated
him, severing one side of his face and nose. Although thus wounded his
resolute spirit did not shrink, but he continued the struggle with the
French horsemen, and as they endeavoured to drag the colour from him, he
exclaimed, "I will surrender it only with my life." Another sabre stroke
severed his left arm and hand, in which he held the staff, from his
body. He then dropped his sword, and seizing the staff with his right
hand continued the struggle, until he was thrown down, trampled upon,
and pierced with lances. At this moment the British Cavalry came up, and
the French fled. Then on came thundering "the astonishing Infantry," the
Fusilier brigade; inch by inch, and foot by foot, these heroic regiments
gained the blood-stained heights, and thus redeemed the fortune of the
day, which all beside thought lost. It was the present General Sir A.
Hardinge's father who led that noble brigade, but more of that in its
place. The gallant Latham recovered from his wounds and lived for many
years after. The officers of the Buffs, in recognition of his bravery
and fortitude, presented this noble hero with a gold medal, worth one
hundred guineas, on which the preservation of the colour by Lieutenant
Latham was represented, with the motto "_I will surrender it only with
my life_," and Lieutenant Latham had Royal authority to accept and wear
it.
BATTLE OF ALBUERA.
When all his comrades fell around,
The gallant Ensign kept his ground;
"Your Standard yield," the Frenchman cried;
Brave Thomas answered "No," and died.
Walsh, when he felt the hostile dart,
Preserved the colours next his heart,
And as he sank, by wounds oppressed,
Still held them closer to his breast.
The colours of the Grenadier Guards had a narrow escape at Inkermann,
where this distinguished Regiment fought desperately. Only about forty
men were left to defend the colours against a host, but with a ringing
cheer they forced their way through a mass of the enemy at the point of
the bayonet, and down the hill they had to go again.
* * * * *
Colours of British Regiments have been lost, but only when all who
defended them had fallen. The noble 24th lost their's in fighting the
Zulus, at Isandlwana, but every man died first. I could mention hundreds
of cases, both by sea and land, to prove how desperately the colours of
our native isle have been defended in the past. The same spirit of
devotion yet lives, and I have not the slightest hesitation in saying
that, should occasions arise in the future, British Soldiers will ever
show themselves worthy to sustain the best traditions of their regiments
and their country.
DESPERATE DEFENCES OR HEROIC STANDS BY SMALL GARRISONS.
During the period when Prince Charles Edward was attempting to recover
for his father the throne of his ancestors, Sergeant Molloy, of the 6th
Foot, defended the small fort of Ruthven, and the following letter from
that veteran, who had only a garrison of twelve men, is a curiosity of
war. It was addressed to the then Commander-in-Chief in Scotland:--
Ruthven Redoubt, 30th August, 1745.
Honourable General,
This goes to acquaint you that yesterday there appeared in
this little town about three hundred of the enemy, who sent
and demanded me to surrender this Redoubt, upon condition
that I should have liberty to carry off bag and baggage. My
answer was, "I am too old a soldier to surrender a garrison
of such strength without bloody noses." They threatened to
hang me and my whole garrison for refusal. I told them that
"I would take my chance; I had no rope, but plenty of shot
and powder." They attacked foregate and sally port, and
attempted to set fire to gate, but all that came near I
managed to drop, and they paid heavily for their attempt.
They went off this afternoon westward, promising to give me
another look up, but I will give them a warm reception if
they attempt it, and will hold out as long as I have aught
to eat.
* * * * *
The heroic defence that General Elliott made at Gibraltar, in 1781,
against the united fleets and armies of France and Spain, was the
admiration of the whole of Europe. The old "Silly Suffolk" Regiment (the
12th) was one of the four Regiments composing that heroic band that set
Spain and France at defiance.
* * * * *
But the most glorious defence on record is that made by a noble band at
Lucknow, from June 30th until September 26th, 1857, when relieved by
Havelock. To go into the details of that defence is beyond the province
of this book, but I feel I must say a little about it. No one in old
England can form any idea of the sufferings of this pent-up little
garrison. The heat was almost intolerable; cholera was raging in the
midst of them, their numbers daily becoming less and less; and thousands
of fiends surrounded them panting for their blood. Such was the
situation for months of some hundreds of poor defenceless women and
children, with only a handful of men to defend them; there was no part
of the Residency safe for one minute. Week in and week out, for three
long months, and that in the worst part of the year in India, death in a
thousand shapes confronted this heroic band, yet they nobly fought on.
They had heard that relief was on the way, but oh, dear, why did it not
come? All India must know the state they were in; the people in England
even must know of their condition, but yet no help appeared. They had
heard the guns of that noble Christian soldier, Havelock, and thought
that the hour of deliverance had come, but day after day passed, and no
help was visible. The little garrison still fought on desperately,
repulsing all the attacks of the bloodthirsty fiends who would have cut
the unfortunate helpless creatures to pieces. But a merciful God was
watching over them. Havelock, with his small but courageous army, once
more, on the 20th September, started from Cawnpore for their relief, and
soon the poor half-starved and miserable forms of humanity could
distinctly hear the guns pounding away at the enemy, when all at once
they caught a glimpse of their deliverers. The scene is almost beyond
description, as the gallant Highlanders, rough, long-bearded,
determined-looking men, dashed into the midst of them. The following is
an extract from the diary of one of the ladies who was present at the
Relief:--"I shall never forget the moment as long as I live. We had no
idea that deliverance was so close; we could distinctly hear the
cheering of our men and the Highland Pipers, and all at once we found
ourselves in the arms of big, rough-bearded soldiers; they seized the
dear little ones out of our arms, and kissed them over and over again,
with tears rolling down their cheeks, and thanked God that they had come
in time to save them from the fate of those at Cawnpore." The loss on
our side had been heavy, the gallant Neill had met a soldier's death
just at the gates of the Residency, and close upon 600 men were killed.
Our people had fought their way in, but, alas, the hoped-for relief had
not yet come. They were again hemmed in, and there had to remain until
ultimately relieved by Sir Colin Campbell. The strength of the besieged
was now, however, greatly augmented, and they made the enemy keep at a
respectful distance. It was no longer such desperate work as the gallant
32nd and a company or two of the 84th had passed through. A few loyal
men of the 13th, 48th, and 71st Native Infantry, materially aided in
this defence. They were afterwards formed into a Regiment, and called
the Lucknow Regiment. The Government at once rewarded them, each
individual man being presented with the Indian Order of Merit, which
carries with it five shillings per month for life. These men had proved
themselves worthy to fight beside the bravest of the brave--they had
been worth their weight in gold to that noble little garrison.
A DESPERATE STAND.
Elephants have been used in war by the moderns as well as the ancients;
they were employed by Tippoo Sahib, armed with chains, with which, when
wounded, they were not at all particular, for they killed both friend
and foe.
* * * * *
The following has no comparison in the annals of war. It was an attack
at Perambankum, on the 6th September, 1780, by Hyder-Ali, upon a force
commanded by Colonel Baillie. Lieut.-Colonel Baillie could make but a
feeble resistance against so superior a force, but his little band yet
gallantly kept them at bay until their ammunition for the field guns
began to run short. Hyder's guns upon this drew nearer and nearer, while
each shot was attended with deadly effect; the enemy now advanced on all
sides to a close attack; the blacks deserted us, and the little band
united--both infantry and artillery--and planted themselves upon a small
mound or sand-bank, and there resolved to defend themselves to the
last. Their numbers were now reduced to 500; and they were opposed by no
fewer than 100,000 enraged barbarians, who never grant quarter. In
trying to picture such a scene and such a situation as their's was, the
mind is at once filled with horror and with awe. Formidable bodies of
horse, infantry, artillery, and elephants, advanced from all quarters.
Distinct bodies of cavalry would advance, but the well-timed roll of
musketry from the little band had a powerful effect upon them, and their
attacks were driven back again and again, while fresh columns kept
advancing. At last the fearful struggle was marked by the clashing of
arms and shields, the snapping of spears, the glistening of bloody
swords, horses kicking, the groans of the mutilated men, wounded horses
falling upon expiring men, and the roaring of the elephants, stalking
about and wielding their chains against friends and foes. That was how
the present 71st Highlanders were situated. They acquitted themselves
nobly, and well earned the word "Hindoostan," which they bear upon their
colours.
THE 52ND LIGHT INFANTRY.
During the winter of 1775, plays were acted in Boston twice a week by
the officers and some ladies. On one occasion a farce called the
"Blockade of Boston," was presented; the enemy knew the night it was to
be performed and made an attack on the mill at Charlestown, at the very
hour the farce began; they fired some shots, and surprised and carried
off a Sergeant's Guard. Our men immediately turned out and manned the
works. An orderly sergeant standing outside the playhouse door, and who
heard the firing, immediately ran into the playhouse, got upon the
stage, crying out with all his might, "Turn out, turn out, they are
hard at it, hammers and tongs." The whole audience, supposing the
sergeant was acting a part in the farce, loudly applauded. When the
applause was over he again cried out, "What are you all about? If you do
not believe me, you need only go to the door, and there ye'll hear and
see both." If the enemy intended to stop the farce they certainly
succeeded. All immediately left the playhouse, and the officers joined
their Regiments.
THE OLD SUFFOLK REGIMENTS.
These have been good loyal corps for many years. At Minden, 1st August,
1759, the 12th routed the French off the field with the bayonet,
although the odds were heavy against them. At Gibraltar they took a
noble part in its defence, and in the end came off conquerors, although
there were enough around them, both of French and Spaniards, to eat
them, but the bayonet stood in the way. At Seringapatam, they taught the
Sultan Tippoo Sahib (not how to make hard "dumplins, bor"), but how to
respect our flag. The Suffolk Regiment took a leading part in the
storming of that exceedingly strong and rich fortress. Not a shot did
the British fire, when the noble old commander, Colonel Baird, called
out in a voice of thunder, "Now, my lads, follow me, and prove
yourselves worthy of the name of British soldiers;" history can prove
that the old East Suffolk Regiment, the 12th, nobly responded. He again
called out to his men "All must be done with the bayonet," and in they
went, and in a few short hours the richest fortress that ever was taken
by storm lay at the conquerors' feet. The old 12th led the way, Tippoo
Sahib was killed, but not by eating hard dumplings. He was one of the
bitterest foes that we ever had in India. It was he who said he would
rather live the life of a tiger one year, than one hundred that of a
Christian. This regiment has seen a great deal of service in India, and
is one of the few regiments that has on its colours the word "India." It
had some desperate fighting along the Malabar coast, from 1808 until
1810; sometimes they were completely overwhelmed with numbers, but never
beaten, on one occasion they fought for an entire day, with the odds of
twenty-five to one, and then with a desperate charge, front rank going
one way and rear rank the other, they routed the enemy. Surely there are
as good men in old Suffolk now, as there were in 1808! As for the other
Suffolk Regiment, I had the pleasure of fighting side by side with them
at the Alma, at Inkermann, and throughout the siege of Sebastopol, and
can testify that they there proved to the world that they are second to
none. The old 63rd, or West Suffolk, did not lose anything like as many
as most regiments in the Crimea from the enemy; but with hardships and
sickness they were nearly all destroyed, while the few who were left
were sent down to Balaclava, in the beginning of 1855. The present 63rd,
or West Suffolk Regiment, was formerly the 2nd battalion of the 8th
Regiment, and as such did good service in Flanders, Spain, Portugal, and
India, and, in fact, all over the world.
ENGLAND NOT A MILITARY NATION?
It is difficult to understand whence the parrot-cry could have arisen
that England was not a military nation. Not a military nation! when her
annals are illustrated with a catalogue of victories gained over every
people in the civilised world--over France, herself the conqueror of
Europe; over sturdy Germany, phlegmatic Holland, chivalrous Spain, and
the fanatic hosts of India and China. Not a military nation! when her
sons have given some of the most eminent proofs of courage, activity,
industry, passion for the service, their whole life seeming to breathe
for nothing but fame and the glory of the flag they love so well. Not a
military nation! when she has produced a Marlborough, a Nelson, a
Wellington, and a Clyde, and hundreds of other heroes, so eminent in
fame that we may challenge the world with no unjustifiable pride to find
their equals. It may more truly be said that England is not a _warlike_
nation. She fights not for ideas, nor for the lust of conquest; she
values peace, and bears much and forbears much, to avoid the naked
horrors of war; but when once she has girded on the sword in a just
cause, woe be to the enemy that dares to meet her steel, for
We not now
Fight for how long, how broad, how great and large
The extent and bounds of the purple Rome shall be,
But to retain what our noble ancestors left us.
So Huzzah! Huzzah! death or victory.
THE WIVES AT HOME.
Hurrah and hurrah for the soldiers that go
With a laugh and a smile o'er the foam!
Hurrah for the glad hearts that leap at the foe,
But alas for the sad hearts at home!
Hurrah for the flash and the crash of the guns,
The clash of the sabres, the madness of strife
Hurrah and hurrah for Britain's brave sons,
But alas for each mother and wife!
Hurrah for the battle well fought and well won
Hurrah for the vanquished who sleep!
Hurrah for the victors whose life-work is done,
But alas for the widows who weep!