_Journal—25th April-June 1815_
The 1st Battalion embark at Dover for Ostend—Land at Ostend and
proceed in barges to Bruges and Ghent—The Rifle officers call on Louis
XVIII.—Reviewed by the Duke of Wellington—March to Brussels—Simmons is
billeted upon Monsieur Overman.
Letter No. XXIV
_To his Parents from Brussels, dated 19th May 1815_
Describes embarkation—Brother Joseph left in England as adjutant
of the "four skeleton companies" at the depôt—The expenses of
equipment for service—The voyage—Dreadfully sea-sick—Good quarters in
Brussels—Many messages and good advice to his family.
_Journal—15th-18th June 1815_
The night of 15th June at Brussels—The call to arms—The Rifle Men
march to Quatre Bras and get "a view of _Johnny_"—The British
cavalry not yet arrived—The 42nd cut up by the French cavalry—The
Rifles bivouac on the field of Quatre Bras—The morning of the 17th
June—Breakfasts at a farm—The British Divisions retire and are joined
by the cavalry—The French follow them up—Heavy rain and impassable
condition of the cultivated land—The 7th Hussars charge—Also the Life
Guards and Oxford Blues—The British army reach Waterloo and take up a
position there—Cannonading till dark—Bivouac on the field—The battle
of Waterloo—Dawn of the 18th June—The men clean their arms and prepare
for the contest—The French "form to give battle"—No doubt now but that
Napoleon himself was there—Delight of the old Peninsular warriors at
the prospect of fighting under the Duke against Buonaparte—The French
artillery opens fire—Disposition of the Division under Sir Thomas
Picton—The Rifles on the _chaussée_ by La Haye Sainte—Destructive fire
from French guns—The latter are advanced, and the French infantry
columns move to the attack—Terrible fire from the British Rifle
Men—The French column stopped—Simmons receives a severe wound, and is
dragged into the farm of Mont St. Jean.
Letter No. XXV
_To his Parents, from Brussels, undated, but bearing a postmark of 1st
July 1815_
The march from Brussels to Quatre Bras—"A bloody and obstinately
contested battle"—The retirement to Waterloo—The battle of
Waterloo—The French cannonade—Advance of "immense columns in
imposing masses"—"Proud and fierce appearance of the British"—Is
wounded and trampled on in the mud for some time—Finds himself in
the farm of Mont St. Jean—Mr. Robson, the assistant surgeon of the
Rifles, cuts a musket-ball out of his breast—Dreadful nature of the
wound—Sergeant Fairfoot endeavours to take him to the rear—The French
fire "riddling the house"—The French press on, and the British have
to fall back—Fairfoot puts Simmons on a horse and he escapes—Terrible
sufferings during the ride to Brussels—Reaches his billet at Monsieur
Overman's at 10 P.M.—Is bled and has a quart of blood taken from
him—Followed by _five_ more in the next four days—Is going on well,
but very weak—Sends money to his parents—Expectations of a pension for
his wound, which will "make them comfortable."
Letter No. XXVI
_To his Parents, from Brussels, dated 21st July 1815_
Refers to his last letter as being written on 1st July—Has a severe
relapse two days after writing it—For seven days is in a desperate
condition with violent inflammation—Is bled regularly two or three
times a day—Followed by a stupor of four days—The inflammation
returns with more violence—"The lancet was the only thing to save
me"—Another seven days of misery—Gets worse than ever, so sends for
the surgeon—Has "two large basins" of blood taken from his arm—The
surgeon is alarmed and does not like to try bleeding again—An eminent
physician prescribes leeches—Thirty are applied, followed by more,
for three days—Suffers great torture—Robson tells him he cannot
live—Distress of his poor little nurse (Mademoiselle Overman)—"Death
has no pangs for me"—The thoughts of his family too much for him—Lies
in a stupor for three days—Nature effects a cure—Monsieur Overman's
kindness, and devotion of his "dear little nurse"—Is dreadfully
emaciated, but "sound at heart"—Makes arrangements for paying for
Ann's schooling—"The next letter will be from Paris."
Letter No. XXVII
_To his Parents, from Brussels, dated 18th September 1815_
Is able to walk about—First attempts to do so—Detailed account of the
scene in Mont St. Jean—Sergeant Fairfoot although wounded, tries to
put Simmons on a horse, but the latter faints—The French cannon-balls
and shells riddling the farm—The surgeon's opinion of the wound and
inutility of moving him—Desperate onslaught of the French—All who
could crawl leave the barn—The dying Rifle officer—Sergeant Fairfoot
returns and lifts Simmons on to a horse, also the other officer—Sends
money to his parents—Paris "a sink of iniquity"—Fears it may corrupt
the morals of the Rifle Men—Brother Joseph has more good advice—A
celebrated surgeon inspects Simmons's wound—"The next letter will be
from London."
_Journal—25th April-June 1815_
[Sidenote: 1815 April 25th]
Embarked at Dover at seven o'clock in the evening; after passing the
pier the wind was not very favourable. Arrived at Ostend on the 27th
at daylight and disembarked from on board the _Winsley-dale_ packet.
Embarked again on board Dutch schuyts with six companies of the 1st
Battalion, consisting of ninety-two men per company. The boats were
drawn by horses. Arrived at Bruges before dark. Our boats halted
for the night in the environs of the town. It being dark, had no
opportunity of seeing the place.
[Sidenote: 28th]
Sailed at 4 A.M. The country flat, but highly cultivated and abounding
with everything. The people dirty, and had not the appearance of being
a healthy peasantry. The country in every direction intersected with
dykes and canals. Arrived at Ghent about 3 o'clock P.M. Got billets in
the third section. My billet upon Mr. Barth, sugar merchant, Quai de la
Grue, No. 29. The people very civil and hospitable, every one making
the same observation. The houses very good and the town well supplied
with vegetables and fish. In fact, it abounded with everything.
Rhenish wine, 2s. 3d. per bottle, of most excellent quality.
[Sidenote: 30th]
Paid a visit with all our officers to Lewis (Louis) XVIII., who was
flattered by the compliment. The public buildings very good; the
churches decorated in the Roman Catholic style. The statues in some of
the churches are masterpieces of Art, and strike an attentive observer
with astonishment at the natural appearance of the figures.
[Sidenote: 1815 May 7th]
Reviewed by the Duke of Wellington, who was pleased to express his
satisfaction at our appearance. In the evening went to the play. The
house neither handsome nor well lit up.
[Sidenote: 10th]
Marched to Alost; it being filled with Lewis's people, we went into the
village of Wella.
[Sidenote: 11th]
Halted.
[Sidenote: 12th]
At 3 A.M. marched to Bruxelles. Arrived about 11 A.M. After much
trouble got a billet upon the house of Mr. Overman, Rue du l'Etoile,
No. 119. His family consisted of Monsieurs Jack, Albert, Edward,
Gustavus, Mademoiselle Julia, Harriott, Ulalia, Mademoiselle Bolinus,
Madame Notter, M. Lusmar. Continued here very comfortable until 15th
June.
Letter No. XXIV
Bruxelles, _19th May 1815_.
Dear Parents—On the 27th of April five companies of the 1st Battalion
embarked on board packet boats at Dover. As the senior officers of each
rank had the refusal of going, the juniors were under the necessity
of staying at home, which was a very great mortification to Joseph.
However, if we commence hostilities he will soon be wanted to fill the
place of some unlucky fellow that may bite the dust.
Four skeleton companies remained behind. Joseph was made adjutant of
the depôt. He will have to drill the recruits and young officers. He
takes a delight in his duty, and I have no doubt he will fill the
situation with credit. It is highly flattering to my feelings to
see him pitched upon for a situation of such responsibility by the
commanding officer. When I embarked it was nearly dark. Our Boys had
been stationed some time at Dover, and the people came in crowds to see
us off, cheered us, and wished us success. It was at the same place
that in 1809 I embarked with as fine a regiment as ever left England.
Joseph was very sorry to part from me. I wanted him to come on board
and sup, but he would take nothing, and said, "I must leave you." He
assured me that through life he would always be a friend to you, and
if anything happened to me he would endeavour to become your protector
and tread in my steps. I have no doubt of him; he is everything that I
could wish. The moment at parting proved his heart, and makes me daily
bless the Almighty for putting it in my power to serve him.
I think soon he will be able to send you some money. I was put to much
expense in providing the necessary articles for service. I managed
to buy a baggage horse, which cost 15 guineas, and 3 guineas for
embarking. I shall have £20 in July, but that is some time to look
forward to. When I get it I will transmit the money. I have not yet got
a riding horse, but I must buy one; my legs will never carry me through
a long campaign. After a day's march I am lame. If I get hit again they
must promote me or recommend me for Chelsea.
I was dreadfully sick all the way to Ostend. My throat swelled with
vomiting to such a degree that I could scarcely speak for a week after.
I saw very little of Ostend. We embarked upon the canal and arrived at
Bruges in the evening. The next morning we moved forward to Ghent, a
very fine town, the people remarkably civil, provisions and wine very
cheap. Louis XVIII. is at this place. Our officers paid him a visit on
the 13th. We marched to this town, which is very large. I have a room
in a garden. The officers who mess with me prefer dining at my house,
as I have the use of a delightful summer-house. At present we are
enjoying ourselves. Rumour says Buonaparte is concentrating his forces,
and means to attack us very soon; for my part, I do not care how soon.
I hope I shall see Paris before the summer is over, in a whole skin.
I hope my sister still continues to apply diligently to her studies.
If she cannot pay Mrs. Sterling exactly as she could wish, I will be
bound to pay the money for her. Do not let that damp her ardour or give
uneasiness. I would rather sell anything I have got than suffer any of
them being neglected on so essential a point as education.
I hope Charles is going on well, and Betsy also. If they endeavour to
become clever I shall bring them some pretty things when I return.
I suppose Joseph sent the parcel after I left England. I have not
written to him yet.
Let me know Charlie's age and his height, as I want to ascertain when
he will be able to commence his military career. I wish he was big
enough. However, we must wait patiently.
I regret much having lost my old servant. His time of service was out
previous to my leaving England. I was this morning obliged to turn
off[27] some of our men for drunkenness. Liquor is so cheap here,
the people give them it. My cook spoiled my dinner yesterday. I had
friends dining, which made it more provoking. I am, as caterer to a
mess, something like the father of a family. I always fed the officers
in whatever company I belonged to. Major Beckwith is still with the
company. He will go upon the staff very soon. On my own account I
regret his leaving; he is the most worthy of men. I am led to expect
something handsome when the prize money for Spain is paid. It is
expected to be paid soon. I hope it may. I shall empower Joseph to
receive it, and send it to you.—Yours ever sincerely,
Geo. Simmons.
Direct, 1st Battalion, 95th Regiment, British Army, Netherlands.
_Journal—15th-18th June 1815_
[Sidenote: 1815 June 15th]
At 11 o'clock P.M., when in bed, my servant came to rouse me, saying
the assembly was sounding. I directly dressed myself and went to our
alarm post. Our Division (the 5th) formed in column of regiments
near the park and waited for orders. We had many vague reports in
circulation about the French.
[Sidenote: 16th]
At daylight we marched through the Port de Namur. Numbers of people
came to see us leave the town. We marched through Waterloo and halted.
I lay down for an hour. The Duke of Wellington passed with his staff.
The Division fell in and moved forward to Quatre Bras, where we had a
view of _Johnny_.
The enemy commenced a cannonade, and our regiment filed through high
corn to the left. Four companies were sent to drive _Johnny_ from
some fields intersected with thick hedges and also ditches, which we
effected.
On this day our cavalry had not arrived, which gave the enemy a decided
advantage, and made us keep nearer each other than otherwise would have
been necessary. The Cuirassiers charged the 42nd and cut through them,
but on recovering themselves they formed a square, and the Cuirassiers
paid dear in turn for their temerity.
Until dark we had very sharp fighting.[28]
A man of ours was left near the French. When it fell dark I went with
three men to fetch him away. Both the poor fellow's legs were broken.
I deposited him in a house and joined my regiment. Our Division formed
in column of companies at wheeling distance, the officers on the left
of their respective companies. In this way we lay down. I pulled a
greatcoat off a Cuirassier who was dead, and covered myself, which made
me sleep well till one hour before daylight.
[Sidenote: 17th]
The piquets began to fire. We directly stood to our arms. As soon
as the day cleared we commenced firing at each other merely for
amusement. I got a fire kindled, and purchased from a farmer, ham,
etc. I made a good breakfast. This man's house contained upwards of
fifty wounded French. Our men gave them water. About 11 A.M. the 5th
and 3rd Divisions who had fought the day before, being the only part
of the army engaged, retired. We soon were joined by the cavalry. The
enemy followed close after us. The rain began to fall in torrents. The
country being in a high state of cultivation, covered with corn, and
the ground remarkably soft, the cavalry could scarcely raise a canter,
the animals sank so deep. The 7th Hussars charged, but were sadly
mauled. The Life Guards and Oxford Blues made some very fine charges,
and literally preserved the 7th from being cut to pieces. About 3
o'clock in the afternoon the whole army moved into position in front
of Waterloo. The enemy in parties reconnoitred, and was amused with
the music of our cannon till dark. The night was very bad. The field
where we were was all mud. I got a bundle of straw to lie upon, and I
smeared an old blanket with thick clayey mud, and covered myself with
the blanket, which prevented the rain from passing through, and kept me
tolerably warm.
[Sidenote: 18th]
At daylight the weather cleared. The men commenced cleaning their
arms and preparing for the tremendous contest. We were soon convinced
the French were forming to give us battle, and had no doubt but
Napoleon himself was there. Many old warriors who had fought for years
in the Peninsula were proud of being pitted with our gallant chief
against Buonaparte and the flower of France. About 11 o'clock in the
morning the enemy commenced a heavy cannonade upon our line, which was
spiritedly returned from us. The 2nd Brigade of our Division occupied
the extreme left of the line, the 1st 95th were upon the _chaussée_ to
Charleroi from Bruxelles; 32nd, 79th, and 28th on the left, under the
command of Sir J. Kempt; Sir D. Pack commanded the 2nd Brigade; Sir
Thos. Picton commanded this Division. Our Brigade formed column and,
from being much exposed to the enemy's guns, suffered severely. About
1 o'clock the enemy's guns were moved nearer. We knew the attack must
soon commence, and under cover of their guns, four columns now made
their appearance, amounting to 20,000 men. They moved steadily towards
us. We formed a sort of line and commenced a terrible fire upon them,
which was returned very spiritedly, they advancing at the same time
within a few yards. I had an impression I should not be touched, and
was laughing and joking with a young officer about half-past four in
the afternoon. At this time I was a little in front of our line, and
hearing the word charge, I looked back at our line, and received a
ball, which broke two of my ribs near the backbone, went through my
liver, and lodged in my breast. I fell senseless in the mud, and some
minutes after found our fellows and the enemy hotly engaged near me.
Their skirmishers were beaten back and the column stopped. Two men
dragged me away to the farm of Mont St. Jean, a little to the rear,
where Mr. Robson extracted a musket-ball from my breast.
[Waterloo Journal ends. The preceding was apparently written in
Brussels between 1st and 3rd July 1815.]
Letter No. XXV
[Undated but bearing post-mark of 1st July.]
Bruxelles, _1815_
My dear Parents—Through the blessings of Almighty God I am at last
able to give you some account of myself, which I never expected to be
able to do in this world. On the 16th of June, after passing a long
tranquillity at this place, our Division marched at 4 o'clock in the
morning. We moved forward 20 miles and gave the French battle. A more
bloody or obstinately contested thing had seldom or never been seen.
This convinced me that the French would fight for Buonaparte. The
darkness of the night only separated us.
The following day was passed principally in reconnoitring and squibbing
at one another; nothing done of consequence. Towards noon retired to a
position. Our cavalry and the French had some charging and sabring each
other. The rain fell in torrents, and continued raining all the night.
On the 18th the French seemed to be very busy moving immense columns
opposite us preparatory to an attack. About noon they commenced a
cannonade, from, I daresay, 150 pieces of cannon, which was very soon
answered by us. Immense columns in imposing masses now moved towards
us. If you could have seen the proud and fierce appearance of the
British at that tremendous moment, there was not one eye but gleamed
with joy. The onset was terrible. After four hours' exposure to it
I received the dangerous wound which laid me amongst many others in
the mud. Most of the men with me were killed, so it was some time
before any officer noticed me, and not until I had been trampled over
many times. The next place I found myself in was where the men and
officers had been collected for the surgeon. A good surgeon, a friend
of mine, instantly came to examine my wound. My breast was dreadfully
swelled. He made a deep cut under the right pap, and dislodged from
the breast-bone a musket-ball. I was suffocating with the injury my
lungs had sustained. He took a quart of blood from my arm. I now began
to feel my miseries. Sergeant Fairfoot was also here wounded in the
arm. He got me everything he could, and said he would go and knock
some French prisoner off his horse for me in order to get me off. The
balls were riddling the house we were in. He got me a horse. They
tried to lift me upon it, but I fainted; some other officer took it.
In consequence of a movement the French made with all their forces,
our people were obliged to retire. If I stayed I must be a prisoner,
and being a prisoner was the same as being lost. Poor Fairfoot was
in great agitation. He came with another horse. I remember some Life
Guardsmen helped me on. Oh what I suffered! I had to ride twelve miles.
I forgot to tell you the ball went through my ribs, and also through
my body. The motion of the horse made the blood pump out, and the
bones cut the flesh to a jelly. I made my way to the house I had been
billeted on—very respectable people. I arrived about 10 o'clock on
that doleful night. The whole family came out to receive me. The good
man and his wife were extremely grieved. I had everything possible got
for me, a surgeon sent for, a quart of blood taken from me, wrapped
up in poultices, and a most excellent nurse. In four days I had six
quarts of blood taken from me, the inflammation ran so high in my
lungs. At present everything is going on well. I am so weak, if I lift
my head from the pillow I faint. I have sent you a five-pound note.
This business has bothered me, but I shall get a year's pay, and most
likely a pension, which will enable me to make you comfortable. My
love to you all. Remember me kindly to my uncle. It distresses me that
I cannot send Ann the sum she wants. She shall have it soon. A number
of our officers are wounded in the town. Poor Lister was killed the
first day. He was wounded in the stomach, and died a few hours after.
We have so many applications for commissions in this regiment that it
would be impossible to do anything in the way that Ann wishes. The only
plan I can advise is, should there be a turning out into the line, to
volunteer into any regiment the colonel may wish.
I am not allowed any person to help me, so I know nothing, and for
God's sake do not talk about me or show this.
[The above bears no signature.]
Letter No. XXVI
Bruxelles, _21st July 1815_.
Dear Parents—I wrote you on the 1st of July. Enclosed in the letter was
a £5 Bank of England note, which at the time I could ill spare, but was
afraid you were much in want of money. If you directed your letter to
me, 1st Battalion, 95th Regiment, wounded, Bruxelles, Netherlands, the
letter would have come to hand. I am afraid you directed it some other
way.
On the 3rd I was attacked with convulsions, and at night with vomiting.
Afterwards I lay in a state of insensibility until the morning, when
a violent inflammation had taken place in my body. I was bled three
times, which gave me temporary ease. In this way I went on for seven
days, bled regularly two or three times a day. I felt better, but
continued in a stupor for four days, when the inflammation recommenced
with far more violence than ever. The lancet was the only thing to save
me, so I was bled again very largely. My liver now was much swollen,
and consequently my body was a good deal enlarged. I had always an
intolerable burning pain in the liver. I never slept—often in dread of
suffocation. Bleeding was the only remedy for it. In this way I went
on for seven days more, when one evening, the pain being very violent,
I sent for my surgeon to bleed me. He took two large basins from my
arm. The pain abated much. I requested a little more might be taken,
but I suddenly fainted. It was about half an hour before I could be
brought to life. This alarmed my friend so much that he did not like
to try bleeding again. He went and brought an eminent physician to see
me, who recommended leeches. I had thirty immediately provided and
applied to my sides. The next day, I had twenty-five more on the same
spot, and the day after, twenty-five more. The last application of
them was horrible. My side was inflamed and nearly raw from the biting
of the others. I got fresh leeches every time; they bit directly. I
was in the greatest state of debility when the last were put on the
raw part; all taking hold at once made me entirely mad with anguish.
I kicked, roared, and swore, and tried to drag them off, but my hands
were held. Such torture I never experienced. As soon as they came off
I ordered my servant to kill them, as well as about fifty more I had
in the house. My dear friend who had attended me so kindly through
this doleful scene came to see me. It was then one o'clock in the
morning. "I am sorry they have tormented you with leeches, as they are
of no use. Are you resigned? You cannot live,"—this, poor fellow, with
tears trickling down his cheeks; on seeing which my poor little nurse,
knowing so well the meaning, sobbed aloud. I answered, "Death has no
pangs for me," but, alas! at that moment my poor family appeared before
my eyes. I thought you would have no provision. My heart seemed fit to
break. I told Robson[29] the only uneasiness I felt was for my family.
He endeavoured to console me. He went away, not expecting to see me
again. In the morning he found me in a state of stupor, in which state
I continued for three days, to the astonishment of all. I suddenly
found my body very wet, and called my nurse, who was astonished to
find me speak. The bed-clothes being turned down, there I was deluged
in matter. The plaster was taken off the wound, when the matter flowed
forth as from a fountain. I was immediately rational and my body began
to decrease. I knew in a moment my life was saved. My surgeon came
and jumped for joy at my good fortune. The whole family in my house
came too. The kindness and delight which Mr. Overman showed was beyond
everything. Every night before he went to bed he came to me; sometimes
I was insensible. He regularly went into his study and prayed for me
every night. He is a very good man, a Protestant, and speaks English
well. My dear little nurse has never been ten minutes from me since I
came to the house. When I was in that dangerous state I often fainted
in the night. She had in a moment a strong spirit at my nose to revive
me. For ten nights together she never went to bed, but laid her head
on my pillow. I now must finish with observing that I am with the
best people in the world. The ball passed through my liver.... I am
dreadfully emaciated, but I am sound at heart. I eat roast meat daily.
In consequence of this discharge, I am obliged to eat very largely. I
daresay in three weeks I shall be able to get out of bed. My spine is
cut through at the hips. My backbone hurts me sadly. I was afraid of
my shoulders, but I feed so well and drink such good wine that I must
put flesh on my bones. I bless Almighty God for His mercy to me, for
restoring me as it were to life in so wonderful a manner. I wish the
Frenchman had not hit me quite so hard. I am afraid it will take many
years off my life and make an old man of me. I have got the ball, and
shall make Ann a present of it. Joe passed by the place, but did not
come. I suppose he has not heard I was worse. However, it is as well,
as he would be hurt to see me in this emaciated state after writing
and telling him I was out of danger. Ann must be much in want of money
to pay for schooling. Now the only thing I can advise you to do is to
draw the £20 out of Mr. Boyse's hands and pay it. I shall not be fit to
travel for two months to come, and I can get no money until I arrive at
my regiment. After I have been a little time at the regiment I shall
go to London and get a year's pay. I shall send you £100, and the £17
will pay my expenses back to France. It is likely that we may stay in
France a long time, which will be very lucky, as I shall get wine good
and cheap—in fact, everything else in proportion. One year from the day
I was wounded being passed, I mean again to go to London and apply for
the pension, which, if I am lucky enough to procure, you will never
again be in want of money.
My dear Ann I hope continues diligently her pursuit after knowledge;
Betsy also. Charles I expect delights in his studies. If he means me to
be his friend, it is the only way to acquire my friendship.
* * * * *
My uncle will, I am sure, be very happy to hear that I am in the land
of the living. My best regards to him. You will think me a strange
fellow to write so much, but I write perfectly at my ease. I have
plenty of books, and amuse myself all day very agreeably, and knowing
the danger of offering to stir, I am quite happy. Adieu. God preserve
you all in His holy keeping,
G. Simmons.
The next letter I hope will be from Paris. Write soon.
Letter No. XXVII
Brussels, _12th September 1815_.
My dear Parents—I am now, thank God, able to enjoy myself once more.
My health is nearly as good as ever. I increase in strength daily.
The felicity I feel at being capable to walk about is hardly to be
described. My legs swelled very much when I first arose out of bed. For
some days I was often obliged to be carried back and rubbed with hot
flannel for hours together. I was afraid of becoming dropsical, but
these bad symptoms have entirely left me. On Sunday, being the birthday
of my worthy landlord, we were very gay. After a splendid dinner I
was gallant enough to walk with the ladies into the country nearly a
mile, where we had cakes, etc., at a house, and then returned back.
Two young ladies supported me, which amused the people that passed. I
have invitations to dine out almost every day, but as I must live very
steadily, I often refuse. The more I know of the good family I live
with the better I like them. If I happen to mention my thoughts of
returning to England, they are all melancholy, and request me not to
think of it. Their fine children, as soon as they get up, come into my
bedroom to kiss me and wish me good morning. A little girl often puts
me in mind of my dear Betsy; she always calls me her uncle.
I shall be able to return to England in a month if I continue going
on well. The violent spasms that often seized me have entirely
disappeared; sometimes they came on when eating or drinking, and
obstructed my throat in such a manner that I could not swallow. At
first when I got into the garden I was so delighted with the scenery
that I fancied I could walk in the presence of several ladies who came
to pay an afternoon visit. I attempted it, and fell to the ground in
fits. I certainly was out of my senses at the time. I alarmed the good
folks, so that they all went home. I continued in convulsions all the
night. This circumstance made me keep my bed a fortnight longer. I
forgot to mention a circumstance which deserved my notice. Sergeant
Fairfoot was wounded through the arm, and also through the hand, on
the 16th. When I was carried off the field of battle and deposited in
a stable upon straw, he came near me and expressed much concern. He
supported me while the surgeon cut into my breast and dislodged the
ball, which, being flat and terribly jagged, required some time. Every
five minutes the cannon-shot from the enemy and shells were passing
through this house, which made it a very dangerous place. Fairfoot was
very anxious to get me away. He went in search of a horse, and returned
with a Frenchman's, and tried to put me on it, but I fainted, and was
carried back to my straw. When I came to myself, I heard the surgeons
say, "What is the use of torturing him? he cannot live the night; he
is better where he is than to die on horseback." This admonition
made Fairfoot desist, but he got me water and behaved very kind. The
enemy made a very desperate attack, and it was thought this place
would in a few minutes be between the fire of the parties; under such
circumstances we should be either burnt or shot. Everybody that could
crawl left the place. I asked the hospital sergeant, who was the last
man there, if we were to be left? He durst not answer me. A gallant
young friend of mine, who was badly wounded and dying, crawled near me
and said, "George, do not swear at the fellow; we shall soon be happy;
we have behaved like Englishmen." At this moment Fairfoot entered, and
a Rifle Man who gallantly exposed himself to carry me off the field.
Fairfoot said, "We must not, nor shall not be murdered, but there is
no time to spare." A Life Guardsman and he put me on the horse. I was
held on by the legs. Fairfoot also got my friend away, but he died the
same night, being a delicate young man.[30] I stated this affair to my
Colonel, and all the officers know how much Sergeant Fairfoot merits
my praise.[31] If I can do him a service he may always command me; his
character as a brave soldier stands with the first in the regiment.
You may tell this to his father. I hear from Joe frequently. He is
well. Never mention me in conversation anywhere, as I do not want to
be known at Hull. My side continues very numb still, but time will, I
hope, render it better. I am anxious to come to England for the purpose
of procuring the year's pay, which I shall send you—at least one
hundred pounds. One year after, I shall present myself at the Medical
Board for the pension, and if I get it, which there is every likelihood
of, why then, I shall laugh at my wounds; for to protect and support
those that are dear to me, my sufferings will be highly recompensed.
I enclose a five-pound note, which I hope will reach you safely. When
I landed I bought a horse, which cost me nineteen pounds; now that I
want to sell it, I cannot get £10 (ten pounds) for it. I have sent
the animal to my brother. He has one already of mine. If there is any
likelihood of staying long in this country, I shall return. My horses,
in that case, will be ready for me, and otherwise I have ordered them
to sell them. I wish our brave fellows were away from Paris. It is a
horrible sink of iniquity, and I am afraid will corrupt the morals of
the thoughtless.
I have given advice to Joe, but I am convinced that he will not run
into extremes or extravagance. I had some very good accounts of him
from the depôt before he came out. I have shown myself to several
surgeons. A celebrated one from Edinburgh saw me and asked me all the
particulars. My case will be published among many others. The next
letter will be most likely from London. You need not answer this.—Yours,
Geo. Simmons, Lieut.
CONCLUSION
Little more remains to be said about the career of George Simmons.
He remained at Brussels for several weeks after the last letter here
published was written, and was then well enough to travel to England,
where he landed on 28th October 1815. He was sufficiently recovered of
his severe wounds to start to rejoin his regiment on 1st January 1816,
and served with the British army of occupation in France for nearly
three years, returning to England with the 1st Battalion in November
1818. It was after the battle of Waterloo, on 23rd February 1816, that
the 95th Rifles were, in the words of the _Gazette_, "by command of the
Prince Regent, in the name and on the behalf of His Majesty," ordered
to be "taken out of the numbered regiments of the line and styled THE
RIFLE BRIGADE"; in those days a unique honour.
Simmons makes no mention of the return of the regiment to England
beyond noting the date of their arrival at Dover. Sir John Kincaid,
however, in his usual vivacious style, gives the following account of
the officers commanding companies on the day of inspection after their
return. "Beckwith with a cork leg; Pemberton and Manners each with a
shot in the knee, making them as stiff as the other's tree one; Loftus
Gray with a gash in the lip and minus a portion of one heel, which
made him march to the tune of dot and go one; Smith with a shot in the
ankle; Eeles minus a thumb; Johnston, in addition to other shot-holes,
with a stiff elbow, which deprived him of the power of disturbing
his friends as a scratcher of Scotch reels on the violin; Percival
with a shot through his lungs; Hope with a grape-shot lacerated leg,
and George Simmons with his riddled body held together by a pair of
stays, for his was no holy day waist which naturally required such an
appendage lest the burst of a sigh should snap it asunder, but one that
appertained to a figure framed in nature's fittest mould to 'brave the
battle and the breeze!'"
Simmons subsequently served at home until July 1825, when he
accompanied the Battalion to Nova Scotia. On 17th April 1828 he was
promoted Captain, at which time he had close on nineteen years'
service. In 1834 he married in Jersey a daughter of Sir Thomas le
Breton. In 1836 he returned to England with the 1st Battalion; ten
years later he obtained his majority, and in 1845 retired from the
service after thirty-six years' service. Some three years later he was,
in common with the other survivors of the Peninsular War, granted the
"General Service Medal." He died on 4th March 1858, aged seventy-two.
"Brother Joseph" exchanged to the 41st Regiment, and served with it in
the Burmese War of 1824, where he greatly distinguished himself at the
storming of several stockades. He served also throughout the campaign
of 1842 in Afghanistan, rose to the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel, and was
granted a C.B. He lived to a great age, dying in 1882.
"Brother Maud" served in India with the 34th Regiment, and died at
Madras of cholera some time after 1816.
"My dear Ann" died unmarried.
APPENDIX I
The following letter has been selected out of many written to George
Simmons by his old Peninsula comrades, since it is of especial
interest. Sir Harry Smith served as a Lieutenant with Simmons
throughout the Peninsular War, and was wounded with him at the Combat
of the Coa in 1810. His wife, Lady Smith, whom he alludes to as "Juana"
and "Juanita," was a Spanish lady whom he first met under most romantic
circumstances the day after the storming of Badajoz. Sir John Kincaid
in his _Random Shots of a Rifle Man_, describes this meeting and its
consequences.
_Letter from General Sir Harry Smith after the Victory of Aliwal_
Simla, _16th June 1846_.
My dear old Comrade, George Simmons—On the 13th of May I received yours
of the 15th of March, and on the 15th of June, yours of the 13th April.
You know me well, George, and therefore know nothing can make me a
vain ass, but when I tell you I have received since the battle of
Aliwal upwards of 150 letters of heartfelt gratification conveying to
me theirs and your participation in every feeling of success which
Almighty God has so guided me to, then, George, my heart expresses
its fulness through the eyes by tears of gratitude and reciprocal
affection. From every old friend—I have several still left to us—from
every old comrade of the Light and 4th Division, have I received every
expression of their approbation, their happiness in my having realised
their often-expressed anticipations.
Your old friend possesses the good sense which you so kindly give him
credit for, keeps pace with his delight in all the congratulations of
our friends. Then, George, comes the _encomium_ of THE DUKE.
Dear old master! if I have done that which meets _your_ approbation,
then is the cup of glory full indeed, for it is to your example I have
desired to apply any share of the ability bestowed upon me.
I have had too from him the kindest of messages, and to his old friend
Juanita, as he still calls her. George, my fight of Aliwal was really
beautiful, and now I cannot say I wish on that day I had done this or
that, but what I give myself any credit for was on the 21st of January,
when the enemy, with his army of 24,000 men and 50 guns, so ably,
energetically, and secretly anticipated my move to effect a junction
with the corps at Loodiana, and nothing but pluck, Light Division
experience, and inflexible adherence to purpose, brought me to the
desired field of Aliwal. I lost some of my baggage, but should not have
done that if my orders had been obeyed, but _Finis coronat opus_. I
have had a letter from Joe, who tells me your happiness was such that
your nerves so thrilled through your desperate old wounds as to make
you quite ill.
Dear George, we little thought at Belem, when hopping about there, I
should become a master of that art we were both "gurning" under, or a
swimming master, with pupils in Sutledge!
I certainly hurried the rogues over the river a little unceremoniously,
and the credit you all give me is not thrown away, I do assure you.
I am appointed to a Divisional command, and must leave these hills
at rather a bad season of the year, viz. the rainy. Between the
alternations of a fiery sun and torrents of rain, some 600 miles, Juana
will go, through not staying here as I advised her. I begin to long to
get once more to my native land. Mine has been an awful banishment.
I do so long to seize by the hand all those old friends who have so
adhered to me notwithstanding my absence, and who thus so kindly feel
_my_ success and honour _their own_. If anything could make a man an
ass _this_ ought.
Juana sends her love, and you and your good wife I pray accept
mine.—Your old friend
Harry Smith.
Our old, dear, and mutual friends, Sirs Kempt, Barnard, and Lord
FitzRoy Somerset, have written in most enthusiastic terms. Oh! such a
noble son of Lord F.'s was killed close to me.[32] George, the hand of
Almighty God has shielded me; all my staff were killed or wounded, and
not I, or even a horse of mine, has _been touched_. I never dismounted,
and I never in my life so exposed myself.
APPENDIX II
Medical Certificates
Brussels, _2nd September 1815_.
I do hereby certify that Lieutenant Geo. Simmons of the 1st Battalion,
95th Regiment, was dangerously wounded on the 18th of June 1815 in
the Battle of Waterloo. A musket-ball entered the right side near the
spine, fractured the 9th and 10th ribs, passed through the liver; I
extracted it from the breast near the lower end of the sternum.
He experienced a high state of inflammation from the nature of the
wound.
A formation of matter took place in the liver, and was discharged by
the wound where the ball was extracted.
James Robson, Assistant Surgeon,
1st Battalion, 95th Regiment.
I certify that Lieutenant Simmons, 1st Battalion, Rifle Brigade (late
95th), received a severe wound from a musket-ball in the thigh in
action with the enemy at the Battle of Almeida, in Portugal, on the
24th of July 1810. He suffered much from the injury to the bone, and a
consequent confinement of near twelve months.
He even at this period, if he uses much exercise, complains of pain and
lameness. Also a spent ball on the leg.
I also certify that Lieutenant Simmons received a wound in the right
knee from a musket-ball, in action with the enemy at the Battle of
Tarbes, in France, on the 20th of March 1814. He suffered most severely
from violent inflammation. There is still an enlargement of the knee,
attended with pain in using much exercise in consequence of the ball
having fractured the patella in its course.
I further certify that Lieutenant Simmons received an alarming wound
from a musket-ball in the side, in action with the enemy at the Battle
of Waterloo on the 18th of June 1815. The ball entered his right side,
and was extracted from the breast.
In its course it fractured two ribs and wounded the liver. He suffered
severely from suppuration of that viscus, as well as from a profuse
discharge from the wound of his breast. He complains of spasmodic
attacks of his side and pain shooting towards the right shoulder, with
pain of the breast and difficulty of breathing, particularly in moist
weather. His digestion is also much impaired. With a view to moderate
these distressing symptoms and prevent their more frequent recurrence,
he is under the necessity of using stays in order to give support to
the body, and also to adopt the most abstemious plan of diet, with
almost a total abstinence from wine and fermented liquors.
Joseph Burke, Surgeon,
1st Battalion, Rifle Brigade.
Boilieu en Artois,
France, _24th October 1816_.
This certificate I gave to Sir James M'Gregor, with the following one
from our friend Lindsay.—G. S.
Cambrai, _1st November 1816_.
I hereby certify that Lieutenant Simmons, 1st Battalion of the Rifle
Brigade (late 95th Regiment), received a severe gun-shot wound at the
Battle of Waterloo. The ball entered the right side, and having in its
course passed through the liver and fractured two ribs, was extracted
from the breast. This officer suffered considerably from the succeeding
inflammation and suppuration, as also from the effects of the large
and repeated bleedings which it was necessary to have recourse to in
order to moderate the inflammation and fever.
He is still very liable to frequent spasmodic attacks in the side
and pain in the shoulder. The powers of digestion are considerably
impaired, and his breathing is rendered difficult by using any exertion.
Mr. Simmons is under the necessity of wearing stays in order to give
support to his body, otherwise he would be unable to enjoy the exercise
of walking or riding.
Owen Lindsay,
Staff Surgeon, 1st Division.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] This Battalion was disbanded in 1818. The present King's Royal
Rifle Corps are its representatives.
[2] _Twelve Years' Military Adventure_, London, 1829.
[3] _Military Lectures delivered to the Officers of the 95th (Rifle)
Regiment at Shorncliff Barracks, Kent._ Reprinted recently, as well as
Manningham's _Regulations_, by John Bale and Sons, 87 Great Titchfield
Street, London, W.
[4] Napier's _History of the War in the Peninsula_, vol. ii. p. 407.
[5] George Simmons' second brother in 34th Regiment.—Ed.
[6] Napier also gives these figures, but Simmons in his letter to his
parents has a somewhat different version. See p. 31.—Ed.
[7] Peter O'Hare joined the Rifle Corps (from the 69th Foot) on its
first formation in 1800, and fought with it at Monte Video, Buenos
Ayres (severely wounded), Roliça, Vimeiro, Coruña, The Coa, Busaco,
Fuentes de Oñoro, and the Storming of Ciudad Rodrigo. He was slain at
the Storming of Badajoz when leading the Forlorn Hope.—Ed.
[8] William Napier, 43rd Light Infantry, the author of _History of the
War in the Peninsula_.—Ed.
[9] Colonel Arentschildt, of the 1st German Hussars, was very kind to
me and put me upon a horse, sending two Hussars to accompany me. He
thought I was dying. The tears trickled down the veteran's face. God
bless his memory.—G. S.
[10] This soldier belonged to the 43rd Light Infantry. I was on the
ground, and very ill from loss of blood; he had been placed on a
paillasse of straw and was dying, but his noble nature would not allow
him to die in peace when he saw an officer so humbled as to be laid
near him on the bare stones. I have experienced many such kindnesses
from soldiers, and indeed if I had not, I should not be alive to tell
the tale.—G. S.
[11] This night I was so reckless of life, thinking the artery injured,
that some fool gave me a bottle of strong wine, which I drank off at a
draught. It was very wicked of me.—G. S.
[12] Lieutenant-Colonel Beckwith and the Battalion were particularly
thanked in Lord Wellington's despatches for their gallant conduct on
this trying day, and indeed nothing could exceed the devoted gallantry
displayed by every one. The Light Division lost in killed and wounded
on this day 27 officers and 336 men; 53 Rifle Men were made prisoner;
many of these were also wounded. The French loss must have been very
considerable from the immense numbers in the field.—G. S.
Napier puts the French loss as "above a thousand."
The losses of the 95th Rifles during this fight were 1 officer, 1
sergeant, and 10 Rifle Men killed, and 9 officers, 1 sergeant, and 54
Rifle Men wounded. Of the wounded officers, three died within a few
days of the fight, and many of the wounded Rifle Men also succumbed to
their injuries.—Ed.
[13] I regret as a soldier I was not in the battle, but I could not
help it, being unable to crawl, from my wounds in the thigh and leg. I
was at that time so ambitious of being in the fight that I really wept
at not being there.—G. S.
[14] Afterwards General Sir Harry Smith, G.C.B., the victor of
Aliwal.—Ed.
[15] Sir John Kincaid, in his _Adventures in the Rifle Brigade_,
published in 1830, mentions having had a hand in this affair.—Ed.
[16] Afterwards General Sir Hew Ross, G.C.B.
[17] Afterwards Sir John Kincaid, author of the spirited sketches,
_Adventures in the Rifle Brigade_, and _Random Shots by a Rifleman_.—Ed.
[18] Major Stewart, as many others have done, asked me if he was
mortally wounded. I told him he was. He thanked me, and died the day
following. Lieutenant Strode died of his wound some little time after
at Coimbra.—G. S.
[19] Brother John had entered the Mercantile Marine, and on his first
voyage his ship was captured by a French privateer, and he himself
killed in the engagement. At the time of writing this letter it was
believed that he was alive and a prisoner of war.—Ed.
[20] Afterwards Major-General Sir Edward Pakenham, who was killed in
the disastrous attack on the lines of New Orleans, 1815.—Ed.
[21] Salamanca.—Ed.
[22] Captain Cadoux.
[23] Joseph Dornford was originally at Trinity College, Cambridge,
which he left for the Peninsula. On returning home he entered at Wadham
College, Oxford, and in 1816 was elected a Fellow of Oriel. After
some years of College work he retired to a country living, first in
Northamptonshire and afterwards in Devonshire.—See Rev. T. Mozley's
_Reminiscences of Oriel College and the Oxford Movement_, ii. 55,
78.—Ed.
[24] I have since heard that he made a most excellent divine and a most
worthy member of society.—G. S.
[25] The Château d'Urdanches near Arcangues was thus styled by the
British, after its owner.
[26] I suffered much from this wound until the bone united. I was put
into a house for the night with many of my wounded comrades.—G. S.
[27] _I.e._, to "tell off" or punish.—Ed.
[28] Marshal Ney says in a report that Buonaparte had taken away his
reserve, or he would have annihilated us. In this fight he must have
had three to one, with the advantage of cavalry.—G. S.
[29] James Robson, the regimental Assistant-Surgeon.
[30] Lieutenant Elliott D. Johnston of the Rifles was being conducted
on horseback towards the village of Waterloo by two Rifle Men when a
French cannon-ball, of which there were many bounding along the road,
struck him and killed him on the spot. This was evidently unknown to
Simmons when he wrote this letter. It is hardly to be wondered at that
this "delicate young man" died.—Ed.
[31] Sergeant Fairfoot had been with him throughout the six campaigns
in the Peninsula, and is mentioned by Simmons as having been present
at the fight at the bridge of Barba del Puerco in March 1810. He was
subsequently made Quartermaster of the 2nd Battalion, and died in 1838
at Galway, in the cathedral of which town there is a tablet "inscribed
by his brother officers to record his good and gallant services as a
Rifle Man in the Peninsula, France, and the Netherlands."—Ed.
[32] Major Arthur FitzRoy Somerset, Grenadier Guards. He was the eldest
son of Lord FitzRoy Somerset (afterwards Lord Raglan), and was serving
in India as Military Secretary to the Commander-in-Chief, General Sir
Henry Hardinge. He was killed at the battle of Ferozeshah on 21st
December 1845, upon which occasion Sir Harry Smith commanded a Division
under General Sir Hugh Gough (afterwards Lord Gough). The battle of
Aliwal, at which Sir Harry Smith commanded, was fought on 28th January
1846.—Ed.
* * * * * *
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A
PRISONER OF FRANCE
BEING THE REMINISCENCES OF THE LATE
CAPTAIN CHARLES BOOTHBY, R.E.
_Containing a Frontispiece Portrait of the Author, and several small
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* * * * *
Transcriber's note:
Minor punctuation and printer errors were corrected.
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and bold text by =equal signs=.
The sidenotes have been regularised. In the original, the year was at
the top of every page, the month was specified in the first sidenote
entry for each page, and continuing sidenotes on a page only gave the
day unless there was a change of month. I have included the year and
month at the start of each section and added the year to the first entry
of a new month.