Clive's life at the expense of his own, and so, indirectly, yet
practically, saved India. At a moment when Clive was unaware of danger
Trewith saw one of the besiegers taking a long, steady aim at him
through a small breach. There was no time to do anything in the way of
warning. There was merely time to thrust his own body between the
bullet and Clive's heart--between another Power and India. That was a
moment as heroic for an individual as it was critical for a nation.
From the battle of Plassey onwards, wherever there was fighting, there
were the Dublin Fusiliers. At Condore and Wandiwash, at Buxar and
Sholingur, they were present--not in numbers but in force. It has
ceased to be a strange thing regarding the Dublin Fusiliers that their
greatest victories were those in which the odds were against them.
At Cuddalore the "Dubs" saw the first step of a romance which went far
in a world of practical reality. It was there that they took no less a
person than Bernadotte prisoner--Bernadotte, the born leader of men,
who afterwards married Desirée Clary (the early love of Napoleon),
became Field Marshal, and died King of Sweden. Little did those
practical fighters think, when they treated the young Bernadotte kindly
at their camp fire that they had actually captured the future father of
King Oscar of Sweden--a monarch who received his name from his
god-father Napoleon Bonaparte, after his favourite hero, Oscar of
_Ossian_.
As the almost impossible name of Nundy Droog has been glorified by the
"Dubs," one may fairly reason that the glory of a place-name may be
derived from what takes place there. Nundy Droog is a fortress set upon
a great crag, nearly half a mile high. The story of the three weeks'
siege of this difficult place has a sublime climax in the final and
victorious assault of the Dublin Fusiliers. It was night, and the
Indian moon shone full upon the giant crag, whose serried points seemed
to pierce the sky, casting deep shadows on the rocky facets and gloomy
ravines. From far above fell the bugle calls of the defenders, tossed
by echo from precipice to precipice, to die away in the dark spaces.
Then rang out an answering clarion note from below, sounding the
assault, and the Dublin Fusiliers advanced up the sides of that
precipitous height. "Then," says a chronicler, with a peculiar
inversion of metaphorical allusion, "hell opened _above them_, cannon
shot ploughed through them, musketry raked them, rockets blasted them,
great boulders rolled down from above and carried many away." But,
undaunted, the Dublin Fusiliers climbed on and up, until at last their
final dash on the summit was so determined that the enemy fled
dismayed.
Later, standing in pools of blood where lay women of Cawnpore, while
little baby-shoes floated about them, the Dublin Fusiliers--strong men,
sobbing with grief--vowed vengeance on the perpetrators of the foulest
deeds, and saw it carried out. The murderers were captured and blown
from the guns, their hands smeared with the blood of their innocent
victims, and, according to their own belief, their high-caste souls
consequently damned for ever.
The Dublin Fusiliers fought grandly in the Boer War, and nothing could
hold them back. After Colenso they were found to be only 400 strong. In
view of their terrible losses it was decided to send them off to Frere
to keep the communications open. It was at parade that they were
informed of this, and they one and all "nabbed the rust" and swore they
would be in the fighting line or die. They were expostulated with, but
all arguments were of no avail; the fighting spirit was too strong, and
these heroic fellows were allowed to remain to have another cut at the
enemy.
During the battle of Colenso occurred a real "Irish" incident which is
amusing. The "Dubs" were advancing on the enemy's left flank under a
searching shell and rifle fire, when they paused for cover at a
poorly-sheltered spot. Here two of the men had a private difference,
and, with the battle raging round them, and the bullets whistling
through their hair, they set about one another with their fists, their
comrades gathering round and looking on with interest. When the matter
was satisfactorily settled, and the best man had let the other up, the
two shook hands, and, joining common cause against the enemy, coolly
resumed the advance, and proceeded about the less personal business of
the day.
It was at Lucknow that Tommy Atkins, the sentry, when he saw the people
flying for the Residency, refused to leave his post, and was killed by
the Sepoys. This proud nickname, Tommy Atkins, has now come to mean any
soldier in the British Army, and rightly so, for, be it said, they are
all built on the same plan as the one who immortalized their present
name.
There are two true stories of the Dublin Fusiliers which will bear
repeating; indeed, they are more than true: they are tender and true,
and show the noblest form of self-sacrifice in the face of unconquering
death. At Natal, when Captain Paton was severely wounded, one of his
disabled men crept to his side in the cold, teeming rain, and lay with
his arms about him all night long, trying to keep the necessary warmth
in his body. And if you remind an old Dublin Fusilier of this touching
story, he will most probably tell you another of eighty years ago,
which is like unto it. There were, so the records tell, two
foster-brothers in the Bombay Fusiliers (the 2nd "Dubs")--the younger
an officer, and the elder a devil-may-care private. "Ye'll be lookin'
after the lad," said their mother, when they left for the front. "I
will," replied the reckless one; and he did. They were found, years
later, upon a mountain-side in India, both dead, lying among dead and
wounded. But--and here is the lump in the throat--the younger had been
badly wounded, and the elder only slightly; but, dead from exposure,
there he lay by his brother's side, stripped to the skin, all his
clothes being piled upon his mother's younger son to keep his ebbing
life-spark warm. Deep down in the devil-may-care Bombay Fusilier who
did that deed was surely the spirit that conquers death, subjecting it
to the higher glory of Britain.
* * * * *
THEIR BADGES AND BATTLE HONOURS, ETC.
BADGES.--The Royal Tiger, superscribed, "Plassey," "Buxar." The
Elephant, superscribed "Carnatic," "Mysore."
MOTTO.--"Spectamur Agendo."
BATTLE HONOURS.--Arcot, Condore, Wandiwash, Scholingur, Nundy Droog,
Amboyna, Ternate, Banda, Pondicherry, Mahidpoor, Guzerat, Seringapatam,
Kirkee, Beni Boo Ally, Aden, Punjaub, Mooltan, Goojerat, Ava, Pegu,
Lucknow, S. Africa 1899-1902, Relief of Ladysmith.
UNIFORM.--Scarlet with blue facings.
FUENTES D'ONORO AND ALBUERA
"A battle's never lost until it's won."--_Old British proverb._
"Nothing could stop that astonishing infantry."
_Napier._
As at Balaclava and Inkerman, a great number of our Expeditionary
regiments now contending side by side at the front were present at the
victorious battle of Fuentes d'Onoro, and a new significance attaches
to that name from the fact that these regiments were mainly responsible
for the victory on that occasion. The battle is also very noteworthy in
the annals of British pluck and endurance for the number of times the
little village was taken and retaken in the course of the day.
In September, 1810, Wellington, having beaten Regnier and Ney at
Busaco, withdrew to his colossal defences at Torres Vedras. In the
following spring he again assumed the offensive, and marched his army
to Fuentes d'Onoro, where the battle of glorious incident was fought. A
Highlander who was in the fight has described it in the following
picturesque narrative, which as his description is taken from notes
written in camp, contains no indication as to his regiment, and
prudently refrains from mentioning the names of most of the other
regiments, we may preface it with a list of the principal regiments
engaged. They were as follow:
1st (Royal) Dragoons; 14th (King's) Hussars; 16th (Queen's)
Lancers; the Coldstream Guards and Scots Guards; King's Royal Rifle
Corps; the Rifle Brigade; 1st and 2nd Battalion Highland Light
Infantry; 2nd Battalion Gordon Highlanders; 1st Battalion Royal
Highlanders (Black Watch); 1st Battalion South Wales Borderers; 1st
Battalion Queen's Own Cameron Highlanders; Norfolk Regiment; 1st
Battalion Yorkshire Light Infantry; 1st Battalion Royal Irish
Rifles; 1st Battalion Connaught Rangers; 16th Lancers; and others.
And here is his story, in the course of which the reader must make what
he can of the curious fact that the cavalry on both sides were chiefly
Germans!
"Our regiment was moved to the village of Fuentes d'Onoro, a few
miles nearer Almeida. A great part of the way we moved through a
wood of oak trees, in which the inhabitants of the surrounding
villages had herds of swine feeding; here the voice of the cuckoo
was never mute; night and day its simple notes were heard in every
quarter of the wood.
"The village we now occupied was in Spain.... The site of the
village was beautiful and romantic; it lay in a sort of ravine,
down which a small river brawled over an irregular rocky bed, in
some places forming precipitous falls of many feet; the acclivity
on each side was occasionally abrupt, covered with trees and thick
brush-wood. Three leagues to the left of our front lay the villages
of Gallegos and Espeja, in and about which our Light Division and
cavalry were quartered. Between this and Fuentes lay a large wood,
which, receding on the right, formed a plain, flanked by a deep
ravine, being a continuation of that in which the village lay. In
our rear was another plain, on which our army subsequently formed,
and behind that, in a valley, Villa Fermosa, the river Coa running
past it.
"We had not been many days here when we received intelligence that
the light troops were falling back upon our village, the enemy
having recrossed the Agueda in great force, for the purpose of
relieving Almeida, which we had blockaded. On the morning we
received this intelligence (3rd May, 1811), our regiment turned out
of the town, and took up their position with the rest of the
division on a plain some distance behind it. The morning was
uncommonly beautiful; the sun shone bright and warm; the various
odoriferous shrubs, which were scattered profusely around, perfumed
the air, and the woods rang with the song of birds.
"The Light Division and cavalry falling back, followed by the
columns of the French, the various divisions of the army assembling
on the plain from different quarters, their arms glittering in the
sun; bugles blowing, drums beating, the various staff officers
galloping about to different parts of the line giving orders,
formed a scene which realized to my mind all that I had ever read
of feats of arms, or the pomp of war--a scene which no one could
behold unmoved, or without feeling a portion of that enthusiasm
which always accompanies 'deeds of high daring'; a scene justly
conceived, and well described by Moore, in the beautiful song:--
Oh, the sight entrancing
When the morning's beam is glancing
O'er files array'd
With helm and blade
And plumes in the gay wind dancing!
"Our position was now taken up in such a way that our line ran
along the frontiers of Portugal, maintaining the blockade of
Almeida by our left, while our right kept open the communication
with Sabugal, the place where the last action was fought.
"The French advanced on our position in three columns, about three
o'clock in the afternoon, and detached a strong body of troops
against Fuentes, which was at this time occupied as an advance post
by the 60th Regiment (1st Battalion King's Royal Rifle Corps), and
the light company of our division. The skirmishers were covered in
their advance by cavalry, in consequence of which ours were obliged
to fall back for greater safety to some stone fences on the
outskirts of the village, while a party of our German hussars
covered their retreat.
"The cavalry now commenced skirmishing, the infantry keeping up an
occasional fire. It was rather remarkable that the cavalry on both
sides happened to be Germans. When this was understood, volleys of
insulting language, as well as shot, were exchanged between them.
One of our hussars got so enraged at something one of his opponents
said, that, raising his sword, he dashed forward upon him into the
very centre of their line. The insulting hussar, seeing that he had
no mercy to expect from his enraged foe, wheeled about his horse,
and rode to the rear. The other, determined on revenge, still
continued to follow him. The whole attention, on both sides, was
drawn for a moment to these two, and a temporary cessation of
firing took place. The French stared in astonishment at our
hussar's temerity, while our men were cheering him on. The chase
continued for some way to the rear of their cavalry. At last, our
hussar, coming up with him, fetched a furious blow, and brought him
to the ground.
"Awakening now to a sense of the danger he had thrown himself into,
he set his horse at full speed to get back to his comrades, but the
French, who were confounded when he passed, had recovered their
surprise, and, determined on avenging the death of their comrade,
they joined in pursuit, firing their pistols at him. The poor
fellow was now in a hazardous plight; they were every moment
gaining upon him, and he had still a long way to ride. A band of
the enemy took a circuit for the purpose of intercepting him, and
before he could reach the line, he was surrounded, and would have
been cut to pieces, had not a party of his comrades, stimulated by
the wish to save so brave a fellow, rushed forward, and arrived
just in time, by making the attack general, to save his life, and
brought him off in triumph.
"The overwhelming force which the French now pushed forward on the
village could not be withstood by the small number of troops which
defended it; they were obliged to give way, and were fairly forced
to a rising ground on the other side, where stood a small chapel.
The French now thought they had gained their point, but they were
soon undeceived, for, being reinforced at this place by the
Portuguese cacadores, our lads came to the right-about, and
attacked them with such vigour that in a short time they were
driven back to their old ground. While retreating through the town,
one of our sergeants, who had run up the wrong street, being pushed
hard by the enemy, ran into one of the houses; they were close at
his heels, and he had just time to wrench open the door of a
cupboard in a recess and tumble himself into a large chest, when
they entered and commenced plundering the house, expressing their
wonder, at the same time, concerning the sudden disappearance of
the 'Anglois' whom they had seen run into the house. During the
time the poor sergeant lay sweating and half smothered they were
busy breaking open everything that came in their way, looking for
plunder, and they had just discovered the concealed door of his
hiding-place when the noise of our men cheering, as they charged
the enemy through the town, forced them to take flight. The
sergeant now got out, and having joined his company, assisted in
driving the French back.
"No other part of the line had as yet been attacked by the French;
they seemed bent on taking the village of Fuentes in the first
place, as a stepping-stone, and the main body of each army lay
looking at each other. Finding that the force they had sent down,
great as it was, could not keep possession of the place, they sent
forward two strong bodies of fresh troops to re-attack it, one of
which, composed of the Irish Legion, dressed in red uniform, was at
first taken for a British regiment, and they had time to form up,
and give us a volley before the mistake was discovered.
"The village was now vigorously attacked by the enemy at two
points, and with such a superior force, that, in spite of the
unparalleled bravery of our troops, they were driven back,
contesting every inch of the ground.
"On our retreat through the village, we were met by the 71st
Regiment, cheering and led on by Colonel Cadogan, which had been
detached from the line to our support. The chase was now turned,
and although the French were obstinately intent on keeping their
ground, and so eager that many of their cavalry had entered the
town and rushed furiously down the streets, all their efforts were
in vain; nothing could withstand the charge of the gallant 71st,
and in a short time, in spite of all resistance, they cleared the
village."
[This regiment (1st Battalion Highland Light Infantry) was always
remarkable for its gallantry. The brave Cadogan well knew the art of
rendering his men invincible; he knew that the courage of the British
soldier is best called forth by associating it with his country, and he
also knew how to time the few words which produced such magical
effects.]
"We were now once more in possession of the place, but our loss, as
well as that of the French, had been very great. In particular
places of the village, where a stand had been made, or the shot
brought to bear, the slaughter had been immense. The French,
enraged at being thus baffled in all their attempts to attack the
town, sent forward a force composed of the very flower of their
army, but they gained only a temporary advantage, for, being
reinforced by the 79th Regiment--although the contest remained
doubtful until night--we remained in possession of it, with the
exception of a few houses on the rise of the hill at the French
side. The light brigade of our division was now withdrawn, and the
71st and 79th Regiments remained as a picquet in it during the
night. Next morning it was again occupied as before. On the 4th
both sides were busily employed burying the dead and bringing in
the wounded, French and English promiscuously mixed, and assisted
each other in that melancholy duty, as if they had been intimate
friends.... During this day, the French generals reconnoitred our
position, and next morning (the 5th), they made a movement to their
left with two strong columns. This caused a corresponding movement
in our lines, and it was scarcely made, when they attacked our
right, composed of the 7th Division, with all their cavalry, and
succeeded in turning it, but they were gallantly met by some
squadrons of our dragoons, and repulsed. Their columns of infantry
still continued to advance on the same point, and were much galled
by the heavy fire kept up on them by the 7th Division, but in
consequence of this movement, our communication with Sabugal was
abandoned for a stronger position, and our army was now formed in
two lines, the Light Division and cavalry in reserve. This
manoeuvre paralysed their attack on our line, and their efforts
were chiefly confined to partial cannonading, and some charges with
their cavalry, which were received and repulsed by the 3rd Regiment
of Guards in one instance; but, as they were falling back, they did
not perceive the charge of a different body of the enemy's cavalry
in time to form, and many of them were killed, wounded, and taken
prisoners. Colonel Hill, who commanded the picquets, was among the
latter; the 42nd Regiment (The Black Watch) also, under Lord
Blantyre, gallantly repulsed another charge made by the enemy's
cavalry. The Frenchmen then attempted to push a strong body of
light infantry down the ravine to the right of the 1st Division,
but they were driven back by some companies of the Guards and 95th
Rifles (now the "Rifle Brigade.")
"While on the right this was going on, the village of Fuentes was
again attacked by a body of the Imperial Guard, and, as on the 3rd,
the village was taken and retaken several times. At one time they
had brought down such an overwhelming force that our troops were
fairly beat out of the town, and the French formed a close column
between it and us. Some guns which were posted on the rise in front
of our line, having opened upon them, made them change their
ground, and the 88th Regiment (Connaught Rangers) being detached
from our division, led on by the heroic General McKinnon (who
commanded our right brigade), charged them furiously, and drove
them back through the village with great slaughter.
"Some time previous to this, General Picton had had occasion to
check this regiment for some little plundering affair they had been
guilty of, and he was so offended at their conduct that, in
addressing them, he had told them they were the greatest
'blackguards' in the army. But, as he was always as ready to give
praise as censure, where it was due, when they were returning from
this gallant and effective charge, he exclaimed, 'Well done, the
brave 88th!' Some of them who had been stung at his former
reproaches cried out, 'Are we the greatest blackguards in the army
now?' The valiant Picton smiled, and replied: 'No, no, you are
brave and gallant soldiers; this day has redeemed your character.'
"At one time during the contest, when the enemy had gained a
partial position of the village, our light troops had retired into
a small wood above it, where they were huddled together without any
regularity (a French officer, while leading on his men, having been
killed in our front), a bugler of the 83rd Regiment (now 1st
Battalion Irish Rifles) starting out between the fire of both
parties, seized his gold watch; but he had scarcely returned, when
a cannon shot from the enemy came whistling past him, and he fell
lifeless on the spot. The blood spurted out of his nose and ears,
but with the exception of this, there was neither wound nor bruise
on his body--the shot had not touched him.
"The phenomenon here described has been the subject of much
discussion among medical men; some attribute it to the shot
becoming electrical, and parting with its electricity in passing
the body, while others maintain that the ball does strike the
individual obliquely, and although there is no appearance of injury
on the surface, there always exists serious derangement of the
system internally.
"We had regained possession of the village a short time after, and
got a little breathing time.... After the various takings and
retakings of the village, night again found us in possession of it.
On the 6th, no attempt was made to renew the attack, and, as on the
4th, the army on each side was employed burying the dead, and
looking after the wounded. On the 7th, we still remained quiet, but
on this day the whole French army were reviewed on the plain by
Massena. On the 8th, the French sentries were withdrawn at
daylight, the main body of the enemy having retired during the
night to the woods between Fuentes and Gallegos. On the 9th they
broke up, and retired from their position, and on the 10th they had
recrossed the Agueda without having accomplished the relief of
Almeida."
Full of interest and significance as was the battle of Fuentes d'Onoro,
it remains that the most sanguinary and glorious battle of the
Peninsular War, as far as the soldiers were concerned, was that of
Albuera where, on May 16th, the skilful Soult was defeated by
Beresford, with tremendous slaughter.
Just as the battle of Fuentes arose out of the determination of Massena
to save Almeida, so that of Albuera was owing to Soult's desire to save
Badajoz, which was in siege by Beresford. Wellington was returning
victorious from the north to join Beresford, but, before he arrived,
the bloodiest battle of the Peninsula was over.
Before the siege of Badajoz was well compacted Soult came up with a
superior force, and Beresford decided to raise the siege and stake the
issue on a pitched battle. The Allies took up their position on the
ridge of Albuera, some 28,000 strong, including 10,000 half-trained
Spaniards, who were something between a hindrance and a help. Soult's
force consisted of 19,000 picked infantry, 4,000 cavalry, and fifty
guns.