THE WALCHEREN EXPEDITION.
Filling up the ranks--Going out recruiting--Bagging a
blackbird--Coaxing the militia, and hoaxing them--A demon
runner--Winning a commission.
After the disastrous retreat to Corunna, the Rifles were reduced to a
sickly skeleton, if I may so term it. Out of perhaps nine hundred of
as active and fine fellows as ever held a weapon in the field of an
enemy's country, we paraded some three hundred weak and crest-fallen
invalids.
I myself stood the third man in my own company, which was reduced from
near a hundred men, to _but three_. Indeed, I think we had scarce a
company on parade stronger than ten or twelve men, at the first parade.
After a few parades, however, our companies gradually were augmented
(by those of the sick who recovered), but many of those who did not
sink in hospital, were never more of much service as soldiers.
The captain of my company was sick, and Lieutenant Hill commanded the
three men who answered for No. 4 on this occasion.
I remember he smiled when he looked at me. "Harris," he said, "you
look the best man here, this morning. You seem to have got over this
business well."
"Yes, Sir," I said, "thank God I feel pretty stout again now, which is
more than many can say."
Both battalions of the Rifles had been in that retreat. The first
battalion lay at Colchester at this time. Ours (the second) was
quartered at Hythe. Colonel Beckwith commanded the first, and Colonel
Wade the second. I remember the 43rd and 52nd Regiments paraded with
our battalion on this occasion at Hythe, and both having been with us
on the Corunna retreat, cut as poor a figure as we ourselves did.
After awhile, some of the strongest and smartest of our men were picked
out to go on the recruiting service, and gather men from the militia
regiments to fill up our ranks. I myself started off with Lieutenant
Pratt, Sergeant-Major Adams, and William Brotherwood, the latter of
whom was afterwards killed at Vittoria by a cannon-ball, which at the
same moment ended Patrick Mahon and Lieutenant Hopwood.[8]
I was a shoemaker in the corps, and had twenty pounds in my pocket
which I had saved up. With this money I hired a gig, and the
Sergeant-Major and myself cut a very smart figure. The only difficulty
was, that neither of us knew how to drive very well, consequently we
overturned the gig on the first day, before we got half way on our
journey, and the shafts being broken we were obliged to leave it behind
us in a small village, midway between Hythe and Rye, and take to our
legs, as was more soldier-like and seemly. We reached Rye the same
night, and I recollect that I succeeded in getting the first recruit
there, a strong, able-bodied chimney-sweep, named John Lee. This fellow
(whose appearance I was struck with as he sat in the taproom of the
"Red Lion" on that night, together with a little boy as black and sooty
as himself) offered to enlist the moment I entered the room, and I took
him at his word, and immediately called for the Sergeant-Major for
approval.
"There's nothing against my being a soldier," said the sweep, "but my
black face; I'm strong, active, and healthy, and able to lick the best
man in this room."
"Hang your black face," said the Sergeant-Major; "the Rifles can't be
too dark: you're a strong rascal, and if you mean it, we'll take you to
the doctor to-morrow and make a Giniril of you the next day." So we had
the sweep that night into a large tub of water, scoured him outside,
and filled him with punch inside, and made a Rifleman of him.
The Sergeant-Major, however, on this night, suspected from his
countenance, what afterwards turned out to be the case, that Lee was
rather a slippery fellow, and might repent. So, after filling him
drunk, he said to me--"Harris, _you_ have caught this bird, and _you_
must keep him fast. You must both sleep to-night handcuffed together
in the same bed, or he will escape us;" which I actually did, and the
next morning retraced my steps with him to Hythe, to be passed by the
doctor of our regiment.
After rejoining Sergeant-Major Adams at Rye, we started off for
Hastings in Sussex, and on our way we heard of the East Kent Militia
at Lydd; so we stopped there about an hour to display ourselves
before them, and try if we could coax a few of them into the Rifles.
We strutted up and down before their ranks arm-in-arm, and made no
small sensation amongst them. When on the recruiting service in those
days, men were accustomed to make as gallant a show as they could,
and accordingly we had both smartened ourselves up a trifle. The
Sergeant-Major was quite a beau, in his way; he had a sling belt to
his sword like a field-officer, a tremendous green feather in his cap,
a flaring sash, his whistle and powder-flask displayed, an officer's
pelisse over one shoulder, and a double allowance of ribbons in his
cap; whilst I myself was also as smart as I dared appear, with my rifle
slung at my shoulder.
In this guise we made as much of ourselves as if we had both been
Generals, and, as I said, created quite a sensation, the militia-men
cheering us as we passed up and down, till they were called to order by
the officers.
The permission to volunteer was not then given to the East Kent,
although it came out a few days afterwards, and we persuaded many men,
during the hour we figured before them, that the Rifles were the only
boys fit for _them_ to join.
After looking up the East Kent, we reached Hastings that same night,
where we found that the volunteering of the Leicester Militia (who were
quartered there) had commenced, and that one hundred and twenty-five
men and two officers had given their names to the 7th Fusileers, and
these, Adams and I determined to make change their minds in our favour
if we could.
The appearance of our Rifle uniform, and a little of Sergeant
Adams's[9] blarney, so took the fancies of the volunteers, that we
got every one of them for the Rifle corps, and both officers[10] into
the bargain. We worked hard in this business. I may say that for
three days and nights we kept up the dance and the drunken riot. Every
volunteer got ten guineas bounty, which, except the two kept back for
necessaries, they spent in every sort of excess, till all was gone.
Then came the reaction. The drooping spirits, the grief at parting with
old comrades, sweethearts, and wives, for the uncertain fate of war.
And then came on the jeers of the old soldier; the laughter of Adams
and myself, and comrades, and our attempts to give a fillip to their
spirits as we marched them off from the friends they were never to look
upon again; and as we termed it, "_shove them on to glory_"--a glory
they were not long in achieving, as out of the hundred and fifty of the
Leicestershire, which we enlisted in Hastings, scarce one man, I should
say, who served, but could have shewn at the year's end some token
of the fields he had fought in; very many found a grave, and some
returned to Hythe with the loss of their limbs.
I remember the story of many of these men's lives; that of one in
particular, named Demon, whom I myself enlisted from the Leicester
Militia, is not a little curious. Demon was a smart and very active
man, and serving as corporal in the light company of the Leicestershire
when I persuaded him to join our corps, where he was immediately made
a sergeant in the 3rd battalion, then just forming; and from which
he eventually rose to be a commissioned officer in one of our line
regiments, but whose number I cannot now remember. The cause which led
to Demon's merits being first noticed was not a little curious, being
neither more nor less than a race.
It happened that at Shoreham Cliff, (soon after he joined) a race was
got up amongst some Kentish men, who were noted for their swiftness,
and one of them, who had beaten his companions, challenged any soldier
in the Rifles to run against him for two hundred pounds. The sum was
large, and the runner was of so much celebrity, that although we had
some active young fellows amongst us, no one seemed inclined to take
the chance, either officers or men, till at length Demon stepped forth
and said he would run against this Kentish boaster, or any man on
the face of the earth, and fight him afterwards into the bargain, if
any one could be found to make up the money. Upon this, an officer
subscribed the money, and the race was arranged.
The affair made quite a sensation, and the inhabitants of the different
villages for miles around flocked to see the sport; besides which the
men from different regiments in the neighbourhood, infantry, cavalry,
and artillery, also were much interested, and managed to be present,
which caused the scene to be a very gay one. In short, the race
commenced, and the odds were much against the soldier at starting, as
he was a much less man than the other, and did not at all look like the
winner. He however kept well up with his antagonist, and the affair
seemed likely to end in a dead heat, which would undoubtedly have
been the case, but Demon, when close upon the winning-post, gave one
tremendous spring forward, and won it by his body's length.
This race, in short, led on to notice and promotion. General Mackenzie
was in command of the garrison at Hythe. He was present, and was highly
delighted at the Rifleman beating the bumpkin, and saw that the winner
was the very cut of a soldier, and in short that Demon was a very smart
fellow, so that, eventually, the news of the race reached the first
battalion then fighting in Spain. Sir Andrew Barnard, as far as I
recollect from hearsay, at the time, was then in command of the Rifles
in Spain; and, as I now remember the story, either he or some other
officer of rank, upon being told of the circumstance, remarked that, as
Demon was such a smart runner in England, there was very good ground
for a Rifleman to use his legs in Spain. He was accordingly ordered out
with the next draft to that country, where he so much distinguished
himself that he obtained his commission, as already mentioned.
I could give many more anecdotes connected with the recruiting at this
time for the three battalions of Rifles, but the above will suffice;
and soon after the incident I have just narrated (our companies being
full of young and active men), we started off with the expedition,
then just formed, for Walcheren. I could not help feeling, when we
paraded, that I stood enranked for this first expedition comparatively
amongst strangers, since in the company I belonged to, not a single
man, except James Brooks, whom I have before named, then paraded with
me who had been a fellow comrade in the fields of Portugal and Spain.
I felt also the loss of my old Captain (Leech), whom I much loved
and respected, and who left the second battalion at that time to be
promoted in the first. When I heard of this change, I stepped from the
ranks and offered to exchange into the first, but Lieutenant Hill, who
was present, hinted to Captain Hart (my new commanding officer) not to
let me go, as, if he did, he would perhaps repent it. I will not say
here what the Lieutenant then said of me, but he persuaded Captain Hart
to keep me, as my character had been so good in the former campaign;
and accordingly I remained in the second battalion, and started on the
Walcheren expedition.
From Hythe to Deal was one day's march; and I remember looking along
the road at the good appearance the different regiments made as we
marched along. It was as fine an expedition as ever I looked at, and
the army seemed to stretch, as I regarded them, the whole distance
before us to Dover.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 8: The manner in which these three soldiers met with their
death is extraordinary. As they were creeping from their cover to try
and shoot one of the French generals, who was much exposed, the enemy
pointed a gun at them, and succeeded in sweeping down all three, as
they crawled along.]
[Footnote 9: The history of Sergeant-Major Adams is somewhat singular.
I was his great friend at this time, and he confided some part of
it to me. He had been a croppy, (a rebel) and had fought at Vinegar
Hill. When the rebels were defeated he escaped, and lived some time
in the wilds of Connemara. He afterwards thought it best to enlist in
the Donegal Militia, and then volunteered to the Rifles. Here he soon
rose (whilst in Spain) to the rank of Sergeant. During the retreat to
Corunna, Sergeant-Major Crosby failed, and Craufurd promoted Adams
in his place. At St. Sebastian he was noticed by General Graham, for
his bravery with the forlorn hope, a commission was given him, and he
afterwards joined a regiment in Gibraltar, where he was made Adjutant.
He then went to America, where he served with credit till he died. I
believe I was the only man in the regiment who knew of his having been
a rebel, and I kept the secret faithfully till his death.]
[Footnote 10: The names of these two officers were Chapman and Freere,
and I believe they are living now.]