Although I was unfortunately deprived of knowing by personal
observation the movements of the 50th, I have, however, good authority
for stating an outline of their proceedings. Fighting their way as
usual, they were present in everything that was going on during the
ensuing campaign, and, after lending a hand in drumming the enemy out
of the Pyrenees, they carried the British colours into France, where
they performed a very distinguished part, at the passage of the Nive
and the Adour. They were also shortly engaged at Orthes, Tarbes, Aire,
and other places; in short, whenever there was anything to be done in
this line of business, the old boys were sure to be in the thick of
it.
While they were advancing to the attack, at Aire, the pickets were in
front, skirmishing with the French light troops, covered by a deep
ditch, or breast-work, above which the instant one of our party
attempted to shew his head, he was without ceremony popped off. This
sort of wholesale slaying was too much of a good thing, and kindled up
the wrath of Lieutenant Duncan McDonald, a fiery little North-Briton,
who, getting rather impatient and fidgety, called on his men to follow
him, in order to have a dash at those fellows, who were thus making
their comrades food for crows. As he was jumping across the top of the
ditch into the field, and before a single man had time to join him, he
was struck by a rifle ball, and fell dead upon the spot. The soldiers,
immediately rushing forward, took ample vengeance for the loss we had
sustained, and charged the marksmen with such effect that they took to
flight in all directions, evacuating entirely the town and
neighbourhood.
In the absence of Colonel Hill, Brevet Lieutenant Colonel Harrison
commanded the 50th, and on every occasion the gallantry of this
officer was conspicuous, and it is remarkable, that in the midst of
all that fighting he never received the slightest wound.
Brevet Major W. A. Gordon, 50th, was entrusted with the command of the
advance battalions in forcing the passage of the Nive, and for his
bravery and intrepid conduct on that service he was promoted to the
rank of Lieutenant Colonel.
Among those who fell dangerously wounded on the advance to Bayonne,
was Captain Robert Verney Lovett;--he died in England, in consequence
of the injury he received, and being a man of social and convivial
qualities he was much regretted.
The following officers of the 50th were killed, wounded, or taken
prisoners, from the battles in the Pyrenees to the termination of
the war in France: _killed_--Lieutenant and Adjutant William Myles;
Lieutenant and Adjutant Duncan McDonald--_wounded_--Captain H. Custance,
Captain R. V. Lovett; Lieutenant R. Keddle; Ensign Sawkings--_missing_
--Lieutenant General Bartley--_prisoner_ Lieutenant General Power.[32]
[32] Myles was wounded in the ancle, but died soon after of
locked jaw; he was an active and zealous officer, and a
quiet inoffensive man. Duncan McDonald was killed at Aire.
Keddle died in Enniskillen. Power on half-pay. Custance is
now Lieutenant Colonel, commanding the 9th Regiment.
Sawkins, leg amputated. Lovett died in England. Bartley, Pay
Master 50th, in New South Wales.
In the course of these campaigns, I had many opportunities of
estimating the comparative merits of English, Scotch and Irish
soldiers, of which there has been a good deal said, and on which there
is so much difference of opinion, that it seems difficult to arrive at
any truth upon the subject. Military men alone can form any idea of
what those soldiers can accomplish. For my part, I believe, that in
one essential point, that is, with regard to courage, there is not the
slightest shade of difference; at least I never could observe any, the
men of each nation showing themselves possessed of a pretty equal
share of the commodity in question, or what is usually called mettle.
It is merely as to temper and disposition, in particular situations,
that they may sometimes vary.
Simply speaking, were it necessary to employ a body of troops upon a
service where they might be much exposed to fire, or which required a
great degree of cool and steady firmness to effect the object of their
Chief, while at the same time they were to be engaged with an
obstinate foe, and that for a continuance, I should certainly select
the Englishman, who performs his duty well, because he knows of
nothing but obedience. There is, in general, no particularly actuating
principal in him but this. With reference to his friends and country,
John Bull hardly ever thinks upon the subject; he is not a very
meditative animal, but pursues his straight forward course without
flinching, and with a zealous desire to acquire the good opinion of
his officers immediately around him, whose example he will follow even
to the breach. In quarters there are none more easily managed, and as
for good order and cleanliness of person, they surpass the soldiers of
every country. They likewise display much of personal vigour, being
strong, athletic and well-formed, so that when a charge is to be made,
the bayonet in their hands becomes a most dangerous weapon, the effect
of which has been severely felt by their enemies in every corner of
the globe.
Were I at liberty to choose a party upon whose steadiness in camp and
quarters, and upon whose fidelity to orders, I might depend, and who,
from love of country, take pride in the most implicit obedience to
their officers, even while suffering all the miseries of hard service,
cold and famine, commend me to the Scotch. Their esprit de corps, and
faithful attachment to their chiefs and clans, is proverbial, and form
the actuating powers of influence with them, prompting them to follow
their leaders, even "to the cannon's mouth," while the pibroch is
ringing in their ears. Talk to a Highlander of his heaths and
mountains, and remind him of his honour, his blood gets up, and he
will burn with ardour to signalize himself for the honour of his
people. To learn the character of the Scotch regiments, look to the
page of history.
Now for the Hibernian--Come along, my lads,! hurrah!--They may well be
called rough and ready fellows; not over solicitous about personal
appearance, they use no unnecessary delay about the toilet, and are
therefore always at hand, and prepared for a start, at any moment or
on any duty, when their services may be wanted. Is there a fort to be
stormed, or a castle wall to be escaladed, then, they are the boys for
your work. Only let them have a little word of encouragement,
accompanied, (if you like), with a small drop "just to keep the could
out of their stomachs," by way of priming, and they will assault a
battery bristled with cannon. As for behaviour in quarters, they are
now and then a little unruly to be sure, for Pat, when he gets a taste
of the creature, is rather a pugnacious being. The Irishmen are,
however, firm soldiers in the field, and nothing can match them in the
bivouac, where their fertile genius comes into play; while the
veterans of other corps are gazing about them, they have got their
huts made, their wood cut, and may be seen scampering all over the
country, in search of all the good things that may be had for love or
money--
"Pat is the fellow that lives on his pay,
And spends half a crown out of sixpence a-day."
The 3rd division, (Sir Thomas Picton's), was called the fighting
division. It was chiefly composed of Irishmen. This is quite as much
as if volumes were written on the subject. Look to the 87th at
Barrosa, the 88th at Badajos, the 27th and 45th every where.
More need not be said.
The German troops are superior to any I ever met with for strict
attention to duty. They are determined, brave, and cool in the hour of
battle; and, should they be entrusted with the outposts, the camp may
sleep in safety, and in full assurance of being vigilantly
watched.--Hardy and inflexible, they conform under any state of things
to their commanders, at whose will they move with the regularity of a
piece of mechanism.
There was a company of the 60th rifles attached to our Brigade, who
were all Germans. They were commanded by Captain Philip Blassiere, a
singularly active and zealous officer. Throughout the whole period of
our warfare he never was absent from his station. With unwearied
perseverance he braved the hardest weather and the roughest service;
his athletic frame and iron constitution enabling him to withstand it
all, holding out with stubborn tenacity while hundreds gave way around
him. Undergoing all hardships in common with his men, he walked by
their side, partook of the same fare, and shared not only with them
the dangerous trade of fighting, but all the miseries of cold and
famine with their attendant train of horrors. He was foremost on all
occasions, where shot and shell abounded, and was at the rendezvous
before a man of the brigade was assembled; and long before the march
commenced, there was Blassiere ready with his Germans for any thing
that might be wanted.
The external appearance of this man was well calculated to excite
surprise, and corresponded with his character for self-denial. His
wardrobe was of the most scanty nature; the jacket and other parts of
his attire, the original colour of which could not be distinguished by
the most microscopic eye, were worn out, patched, and threadbare, and
were pieced in various places; and the whole of his costume seemed at
least for the last seven years to have retained its original situation
on the person of its owner. Thus accoutred he trudged along,
indifferent about the elements; as fast as he got wet, he got dry
again, for he never changed his clothes. His muscular neck was
enclosed by a hard leather stock and brass clasp to match, and all his
trappings were of the same coarse materials as those worn by his men.
The haversack, manufactured of rough canvass, sometimes proved a
treacherous friend, for through many rents and breaches, made by the
hand of time, the mouldy and crumbling biscuit found its way, leaving
but the fragments of his bare allowance. The blue canteen, well
clasped with iron hoops, afforded him a source of comfort; its
contents being to him a certain panacea for all evils.
With habits somewhat eccentric, he was never known to indulge in any
thing beyond the rations; and having no desire for the society of
others, he discussed his frugal meal in solitude, avoiding even the
luxury of a tent. His good humoured though weatherbeaten countenance
was the index of his mind, which was cheerful and contented.
After buffetting all the storms, roughing it through thick and thin,
and standing out the pelting of many a shower of bullets, this gallant
veteran fell at last in battle when the army entered France.