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Electronic Theses, Treatises and Dissertations The Graduate School

2007 "The Foundation of British Strength": National Identity and the British Steven Schwamenfeld

Follow this and additional works at the FSU Digital Library. For more information, please contact [email protected] THE FLORIDA STATE UNIVERSITY

COLLEGE ARTS AND SCIENCES

“The Foundation of British Strength:” National Identity and the British Common Soldier By Steven Schwamenfeld A Dissertation submitted to the Department of History In partial fulfillment of the Requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy

Degree Awarded: Fall Semester, 2007

The members of the Committee approve the dissertation of Steven Schwamenfeld defended on Dec. 5, 2006.

______Jonathan Grant Professor Directing Dissertation

______Patrick O’Sullivan Outside Committee Member

______Michael Cresswell Committee Member

______Edward Wynot Committee Member

Approved:

______Neil Jumonville, Chair History Department

The Office of Graduate Studies has verified and approved the above named committee members.

ii

TABLE OF CONTENTS

List of Tables iv Abstract v Introduction 1 I. “Thou likes the Smell of Poother” 13 II. “Our Poor Fellows” 42 III. “Hardened to my Lot” 63 IV. “…to Conciliate the Inhabitants” 92 V. Redcoats and Hessians 112 VI. The Jewel in of Thorns 135 VII. , Settlers, Slaves and Savages 156 VIII. Conclusion 185 Appendix 193 Bibliography 199 Biographical Sketch 209

iii

LIST OF TABLES 1.1 National composition of nominally English – 1810 16 1.2 “Overwhelmingly” English Regiments – 1810 17 1.3 “Largely” English Regiments – 1810 17 1.4 National composition of nominally Scottish Regiments – 1810 18 1.5 Working background of soldiers of six Regiments – 1806-29 18 3.1 Geographical Location of Desertions – 1811-15 64 3.2 Geographical Location of Desertions – 1815-29 64

iv

ABSTRACT The goal of this dissertation is to convey the importance of patriotism for British common soldiers serving during the period 1775-1837. The writings of these soldiers repeatedly express both strong national feeling and a belief in the uniqueness of British national (“No other troops in the world would have endured, for so long, so terrible a struggle1”); in addition they contain even more numerous expressions of patriotism’s disreputable relation, xenophobia. The ubiquity of these expressions and the similarity of views of the soldier-memorialists serving in widely diverse environments justify a belief in their significance. In addition to first-hand accounts written by soldiers (and accounts written by officers depicting their men) a wide variety of documents have been utilized including Inspection reports of individual Regiments, Summaries of Courts-Martial and Returns of Desertions for units deployed on stationed throughout the . The most significant conclusion to be drawn from these documents (as related in chapters 3, 6 and 7) is that desertion was least common in stations that were both physically and culturally alien to Britons. The only foreign station in which desertion posed a serious threat to cohesion was North America. Here an English-speaking, culturally familiar, if politically hostile, neighboring nation actively provided enticements for deserters from the . However, despite the comparatively high incidence of desertion, British troops serving in North America still exhibited voluble devotion to their country as the story of the “Convention Army” (chapter 2) and the account of Sgt Lamb clearly demonstrate. The Redcoats active loyalty remained “the foundation of British strength.2”

1 Sgt. Edward Cotton, 7th A Voice from Waterloo. (: 1862) 155. 2 Antony Brett-James (ed.) Wellington at War. (London: 1961) 122. A quotation from Sir Arthur Wellesley’s 1805 “Memorandum on British troops serving in .”

v INTRODUCTION

The aim of this work is to analyze the motivations and describe the experiences of British common soldiers who served in the period 1775-1837. This will be accomplished through the use of both official records and of literary remains of individual soldiers; although with somewhat greater emphasis on the latter. By literary remains I include letters, journals and memoirs; these works range in size from a single surviving letter to published memoirs of 350 pages. In discussing soldiers’ motives for enlisting and for carrying out their service faithfully I am particularly interested in the question of patriotism and ‘national consciousness.’ In other words, my dissertation is a look at national feeling in a nation that has often been described as having avoided ‘political ;’ and among a class of people often described as being excluded from membership in the nation “The most pronounced traits of the English were violence and patriotism1;” this is how Christopher Duffy memorably describes the character and motivations of the British soldier of the 18th century. I am particularly interested in the soldier’s patriotism but the question of violence (especially against foreigners) is rarely far from the surface in this context. The degree to which these factors motivated ‘my’ soldiers will be compared to other motivating causes; these may range from the idiosyncratically personal to the broadly economic to those of loyalty to corporate institutions other than the nation (i.e. the Army or the ). The role of the Protestant religion as a source of corporate loyalty in itself and as a factor in creating an integral British nationalism will be addressed extensively. I hope to show that patriotism was indeed an important motivating factor for the common British soldier even though his army was in a very real sense the last of the Ancient Regime. Thus remained a very different institution from the national, conscript armies that arose in the wake of the . As Hew Strachan writes, the British army “remained closer to the precepts of the Great than those of Napoleon2.” In addition, the vexed question of whether the constitutes a nation will thus necessarily be addressed and the relative strengths of British versus particular national patriotisms will be examined. Attention will be devoted to conditional factors that might enhance feelings of group solidarity; particularly that of service in deeply alien environments such as India and . Linda Colley has written that “a popular sense of Englishness…considerably predates3” the French Revolution. One study of the English foot soldiers of the Hundred Years War describes “the rising nationalism, bordering on xenophobia, that arose during the French wars” as a vital component of the soldiers’ motivations and morale. In 1476, the jurist Sir John Fortescue argued that the might of “stondith most vppon archers, whch be no ryche men.” He added that ‘it is cowardisse and lakke off hartes and corage, wich no Ffrenchman hath like vnto a Englysh man” that prevented them from rising against their tyrannical government; “But the Englysh man is off another corage.”4

1 Christopher Duffy. The Military Experience in the Age of Reason. (: 1988) 31. 2 Hew Strachan. “The British Army’s Legacy from the Revolutionary and ,” in Alan Guy (ed.) The Road to Waterloo. (London: 1998) 197. 3 Linda Colley. “Whose Nation? Class and National Consciousness in Britain 1750-1830.” Past and Present. No. 113 . 100. 4 Sir John Fortescue. The . Ed. By Charles Plummer (Oxford: 1885), 137-142.

1 In this vein an Italian visitor to England in 1548 described his hosts thusly: “the English are commonly destitute of good breeding, and are despisers of foreigners, since they esteem him a wretched being and but half a man who be born elsewhere than in Britain.”5 Such feelings remained quite common, even in an “Age of Reason.” John Wilkes, the most influential radical of the era was an intensely chauvinistic Englishman. Even while resident in he sought to express “the spirit of English liberty in a land of singing and dancing slaves.”6 And he endlessly railed against the “Macs and Sawneys” who had thoughtlessly been allowed to dominate Britain in the aftermath of the Union of the Kingdoms in 1707.7 As a fine account of 18th century warfare confirms: “the most pronounced moral traits of the English were violence and patriotism…All classes were united in their contempt for foreigners.” Thus just as the great historian of the could write: “war is the condition of this world. From man to the smallest insect all are at strife,” twenty years before the publication of “The Origin of Species;” so too could the common British soldier be motivated by national feeling despite the absence of nationalist parties or mobilizing ideologies in his homeland. As the anthropologist Lionel Tiger states: “xenophobia existed before biology…There was Social Darwinism before Darwin.” The present work hopes to go some ways to confirm the veracity of this viewpoint. Prior to discussing the background of the British army for the period 1775-1837 and of the stratum of society from which it was recruited, I will look a bit more closely at general ‘theories’ of nationalism and national feeling and of their pertinence to a discussion of the British experience. The idea of Primordialism is often associated with the sociologist Edward Shils. This does not argue that nations emerge from the evolutionary muck and then continue a perennial existence: “Any particular nation, especially if it is a small one, can disappear.” Rather it posits the notion that men necessarily exist in groups and that society precedes the individual. Thus all human experience is marked by the primal notion of the in-group. In this context the individual is born into a particular tradition that is itself ever-evolving. And he/she is ineluctably marked by this tradition if not strait-jacketed by it. Shils’ theory is nuanced yet it fails to address the reality of individuals who profess more than one identity; even if such an individual is born to a ‘mixed’ marriage. This is a phenomenon primordialism doesn’t address. One of our soldier-writers is in fact a product of such a . Sergeant Anthony Hamilton records: On my father’s side I was a protestant and on the part of my mother a catholic; suffice it to say the whole family went with mother to the mass, which left me a Roman Catholic.8

5 An interesting corollary to this is offered by the observation of the traveler Aeneas Piccolomini , the future Pius II. As a means of placating his hosts he noted “nothing gives the Scots more pleasure than to hear the English abused.” – Iris Origio “Pope Pius II” in JH Plumb ed. Renaissance Profiles. (New York: 1961), 97. 6 John Almon ed. The Correspondence of John Wilkes. (New York: 1970), 151 7 This was a habit Wilkes shared with his equally celebrated Tory contemporary, . Unlike most of his present day admirers Wilkes was a of Empire believing England had a duty to remedy ‘the almost universal gross despotism of the rest of the world.’ ibid. 126-128. 8 Anthony Hamilton. Hamilton’s Campaign with Moore and Wellington. (Staplehurst: 1998), 3.

2 That sectarian (and largely endogamous) Irish society pressured a family such as Hamilton’s to explicitly “choose” its identity does show the strength of such communal ties and the pressure they exert by their very existence. However, the fact that Hamilton later converted to Protestantism (he became a temperance crusader), helps to prove that they are not indissoluble or ‘inevitable.’ Within our context an instance of the significance of ‘primordiality’ might be further exemplified by the extraordinary hostility manifested by British soldiers to their Spanish allies throughout the Peninsular War. There were undoubtedly impetuses behind this feeling other than traditional prejudices; the performance of the Spanish regular army frankly did leave something to be desired. However, these antipathies were clearly deep- seated and shared by officers and men.9 And they worked against the efforts of the British authorities as they did much to undermine the objective of Anglo-Spanish cooperation. Modernism views nationalism and national feelings as recent phenomenon. Its adherents are generally divided between liberals, such as Ernest Gellner and Elie Kedourie, and Marxists such as Eric Hobsbawn and Benedict Anderson. For the former the nation and its mobilizing ideology are often viewed as an inevitable part of the growth of civil society; deracinated peasants are taught to think of themselves as national citizens as part of the process of modernization and development. Their agency in this process is quite limited. The reasons for the absence of national feeling are simple enough: Agrarian society encourages cultural differentiation within itself. Such differentiation helps it in its daily functioning. Agrarian societies depend on the maintenance of a complex series of ranks, and it is important that these both be visible felt, that they be both externalized… This leads to the main generalization concerning the role of culture in agrarian society; its main function is to reinforce, underwrite, and render visible and authoritative, the hierarchical status system of that social order…Note that, if this is the primary role of culture in such a society, it cannot at the same time perform a quite different role: namely to mark the boundaries off a polity10.

Thus nations and nationalism can be said to have come into existence only in the last 250 years; they are the products of the industrialization and an open social order. Gellner does leave room for exceptions to his model. He describes the Czech Hussites as constituting a sort of proto-nation. And he recognizes the fact that social immobility had largely disappeared in England after the Fourteenth Century. Primogeniture meant that the extended family could not form the basis of rural life in England; “It is not true that most of our ancestors lived in extended families. It is not true

9 Especially junior officers. Examples abound: Lt. John Luard of the 16th Light on Spanish guerrillas: “They were cruel and great rascals, and thought a great deal more about themselves then about their country” and Lt. George Bell in a billet outside Badajoz: “I left my window open to see the dawn and be early away, tumbled in amongst the fleas and was soon insensible to their claws. I will back Spain and Portugal against the world for this breed of lively creature. Like the dogs in Constantinople, I believe they are encouraged to live and multiply.” James Lunt. The Scarlet Lancer. (London: 1964), 72 and George Bell. Soldier’s Glory. ed. by Brian Stuart. (London: 1956). 36. 10 Ernest Gellner. Nations and Nationalism

3 that industrialization brought the simple nuclear family with it.”11 Rural England was not a collection of discreet communities; “it is a network rather than a scattering which we have in mind.”12 The turnover rate, as revealed by those villages whose records survive, could be quite remarkable. In the village of Clayworth 62% of the population moved away between 1676 and 1688. Even earlier, the village of Cogenhoe saw 46% of its population depart between 1618 and 1628.13 And the sojourners were replaced by other migrants. According to W. A. Speck: “It has been estimated that, of the families living in a particular parish in 1600, the descendents of only 16% would still be there in 1700.”14 Thus, to say the least, the English population was far less likely to form purely regional loyalties than most early modern populations. Contemporary Marxist interpretations of nationalism are built on similar foundations as those of the Liberal Modernists. Eric Hobsbawn’s work on the subject is a veritable compendium of ‘invented’ traditions introduced in the 19th century by nationalists seeking to further their own ideologies. Thus the nation itself is an endlessly mutable phenomenon; a super-structure. Benedict Anderson refines this view by emphasizing the vital importance of general literacy in imparting to the deracinated mass an ‘invented’ national(ist) ideology. Thus the nation itself is a purely modern (and modernizing) phenomenon. Recently an attempt has been made at a synthesis of the opposing interpretations of the nation and nationalism. This is frequently described as Ethno- and is most closely associated with Anthony Smith. Smith regards nationalism as an indubitably modern phenomenon; especially if it viewed as separate from national feeling/patriotism. It is a mass movement that would scarcely have been conceivable in the hierarchical societies of Medieval . However, Smith delves beyond this. He famously poses the question: “Do nations have navels?” Are they truly created sui generis or do they emerge from the womb of Ethnicity and traditional culture(s)?15 Thus the observations of the modernists are correct but within limits. The peasant being transformed into a Frenchman in turn transforms (at least affects) what being a Frenchman entails. A pertinent observation in our own context could be made concerning the Highland regiments of the British army. Many of the traditions associated with the Highland regiments were the products of the late 18th and early 19th century. Most famous of these is perhaps the philabeg kilt and its tartan patterns; these were sartorial creations of the 18th century. And they are frequently mis-described as ‘traditional’ Highland garb. However, the introduction of this garment into the Highland regiments was not an of ‘pure’ creation. It was rather an attempt to create a distinctive variation on the Highland cloak. In this context it will be noted that despite its popularity there was no attempt to introduce it to English regiments. This process might be seen as a miniature of the great

11 Peter Laslett. The World We Have Lost. (New York: 1984), 91 12 ibid, 57 13 ibid, 75. 14 W. A. Speck and Mary Geiter. Colonial America (London: 2002), 36. 15 Smith addresses the issue of the incorporation of several ethnies into a nation: ‘…a rough correspondence of dominant ethnie and subsequent nation has lent credence to the and memories of nationhood imparted to successive generations; and the model of the earlier ethnie continues to resonate through its traditions, memories, and symbols.” Thus the descendants of Danish raiders, Romano-British serfs and Norman conquerors become Englishmen.

4 accommodation that took place between England and in the development of a British nation in the 18th century. 16 Even the notoriously thick-skinned Professor Shils shied away from a discussion of the relationship between national consciousness and the phenomenon of xenophobia; he merely notes “hatred is not necessarily part of nationality; it frequently is (part) of nationalism.17” Despite this there seems little doubt that disparagement of what is foreign is frequently a corollary to strong national feeling. This is especially the case with soldiers serving abroad who define their status by opposition to the foreigner. TCW Blanning makes a distinction between hatred of the French invaders among and Italian peasants and positive national feeling. However, British soldiers stationed abroad were part of a corporate entity that defined itself in national terms. Their disparagement is not purely reactive in the sense that of an irate Italian peasant railing against the godless intruders might be. The latter image leads us to the question of religion and its relationship to national consciousness. Linda Colley has famously opined: “Protestantism was the foundation that made the invention of possible.” Taking Colley’s argument a step further one study argues: If James VI claimed to have united the kingdoms it was who actually did it in 1650-52, in a whirlwind and in a way which genuinely did suggest that God was on his side…The Scots never recovered from the subsequent defeat…the success of the Cromwellian army demonstrated that Britain possessed an elementary unity.18

The problem with this argument is the degree of resentment stirred among the Scots (not to mention the English) by Cromwell’s reign. “Puritan” was as much a term of derision in 1806 as it is in 2006. There is plentiful evidence of intense Protestant feeling among British soldier- writers. And it is frequently coupled with expressions of British patriotism and

16 A more direct example is the co-option of the clan system by the government (and the embrace of the government by the clan leaders). The Highland regiments themselves were invariably raised by their own chieftains and maintained a corporate sense of identity that in turn made them a tremendously valuable asset for the British Army and the British State. “The willingness of the old chiefs to mobilize their manpower in the service of the British state was an indication, surely, of the way in which traditional, local loyalties could be put to British purposes.” Stephen Conway “War and National Identity in the Mid- Eighteenth-Century .” EHR Sept. 2001. 866. The unusual character of the Highland regiments is illustrated in an incident involving the 79th Cameron Highlanders. The regiment had been raised by the laird Alan Cameron of Erracht in 1793. An attempt was made to disband it due to its heavy losses in the campaign of 1794-95. The remaining soldiers would then have been ‘drafted’ into other regiments destined for the West Indies. This led to a heated confrontation between Cameron and the Duke of York” “At this interview, Col. Cameron plainly told the Duke, ‘to draft the 79th is more than you or your Royal father dare do.’ The Duke then said, ‘The King my father will certainly send the Regiment to the West Indies.’ Col Cameron losing his temper replied ‘You may tell the King your father from me, that he may send us to hell if he likes, and I’ll go at the head of them, but he daurna (dare not) draft us.’ The 79th was sent to the West Indies as a unit. Alan Taylor Regimental Records of the Queen’s Own Cameron Highlanders (London: 1887) 115. The powers of clan-connected officers in the led Sergeant David Robertson to complain of favoritism for “men belonging to the estates of the officers” in the award of pensions. David Robertson. The Journal of Sergeant D Robertson. (London: 1982) 36. 17 Edward Shils 18 Alexander Murdoch. British History, 1660-1832. (New York: 1998). 17.

5 xenophobia. In fact, the nature (and ubiquity) of these observations leads the present writer to amend Colley by substituting anti-Catholicism for Protestantism, since denigration of Catholic traditions is frequently in evidence among individuals whose Protestant commitment is very weak indeed. When discussing the expressions of individuals I will try to differentiate ‘positive’ patriotism from xenophobia yet the two concepts are so frequently intertwined that they cannot be wholly segregated. The United Kingdom was, of course, undergoing an internal transformation in our period that transcended the great Anglo-French struggle. The question of the ‘Condition of England’ frankly remains unanswered two hundred years after it was posed. It remains a matter of grave debate whether the conditions of the poorer classes was deteriorating in the period 1775-1837; a debate that cannot be resolved here. I will simply make a few observations on the status of the poor as it may have effected their inclinations to enter military service. The British economy as a whole saw tremendous growth during this period but it was wildly uneven and periods of dearth and unemployment were common. The worst crises of unemployment, however, were the results of peace rather than war. Demobilizations in 1783, 1802 and 1815 each sparked outbursts of mass unemployment; from which a much attenuated army could only draw limited benefits. One change in recruiting patterns brought about by economic factors is clear; the increase in the number of weavers joining the army after 1810. This was, of course, a corollary to the advent of mechanization. However, as we shall see in Chapter One, the overwhelming majority of recruits continued to describe their ‘profession’ as laborer on being inducted. This category could include all unskilled agrarian laborers in the British Isles and is thus not at all revealing as to a particular individual’s condition; other than his belonging to the poorest and most numerous class in British society.19 A vital change in recruiting patterns did occur during the 1790’s but it was due to a military rather than an economic crisis. began to produce an extraordinarily high percentage of recruits. From 4.4% during the War of American Independence the number jumped to fully a third of all recruits. This was a result primarily of three factors. First, the exigencies of War; the losses suffered in the West Indies and the subsequent drop in recruiting led to a need to draw upon any and all manpower sources from 1793 onwards. Second, the extraordinary growth of the Irish rural population in the second half of the 18th century produced a remarkable number of willing recruits. Third, the liberalization of anti-Catholic legislation in early 1790’s; Irish Catholic property-holders were allowed to vote in 1794.20 Finally, the government was forced to acknowledge a fait accompli. As the regimental surgeon, Dr. John Bell observed of new recruits in 1791:

19 The military jurist, Henry Marshall paid Army recruits this rather dubious compliment: “I do not think that recruits are, as a body, more ignorant, more vicious, or more idle, than the majority of the class from which they are taken.” Military Miscellany. (London: 1846) 20 The worst riots faced by the British authorities in the 18th century, the Lord George of 1780, were sparked by an early attempt to legitimize the Irish Catholic presence in the ranks of the Army and openly recruit Catholics. The hysterical anti-Catholic Gordon wrote of his horror “to see with what eagerness and joy the Papists were willing to contribute their mite in support of an unhappy civil war against the protestants in America.” It was only the crisis created by War against the avowedly anti- Catholic French governments of the Revolutionary era that permitted open recruitment of Catholics. Robert . “The Military Origins of the Roman Catholic Relief Programme of 1778.” The Historical Journal. March 1985. 101.

6 By a law of this kingdom, Roman Catholics are excluded from serving in the army. Every man who enlists is therefore obliged to swear he is of the Protestant religion. This to men of nice conscience is a matter of some consequence…but they might, with equal truth, have sworn that they were Turks of Hindoos21.

Thus Irish Catholics were already entering the ranks in substantial numbers in the early 1790’s. However, it was not until 1799 that the attestation of Protestant faith was eliminated from the enlistment . The Irish Catholic presence in the Regular Army provides the greatest obstacle to any wholesale embrace of the Colley equation of Protestantism and British patriotism. Irishmen, overwhelmingly Catholic, numbered approximately one-third of the regular army during the Peninsular era.22 They performed invaluable services for the United Kingdom and their loyalty was not seriously questioned. Their own motivations remain difficult to gauge as they have left so little written evidence.23 However, their presence and achievements are readily acknowledged by their British mates in nearly all the memoirs of the period.24 The nature of the Irish redcoat’s motivation remains problematic. The act of enlistment might have been brought about by purely economic motivations, but the military achievement and self-sacrifice require other explanations. In some purely Catholic regiments there may have been a desire to prove their loyalty to the Crown and demonstrate their military reliability. However, in regiments whose recruits were mixed, the motivations were different. Too great a competitive spirit between Briton and Irishman would soon produce negative results. Rather the Irishmen, as we shall see when analyzing British soldiers’ , identified themselves almost completely as British soldiers25. The incidents of tension were few and never deadly. The great crucibles in which this process of assimilation occurred were training and, foreign service. When abroad, among non-English speaking foreigners (even if the latter were Catholics), the Irish soldiers became ‘Britons.’ The British army, circa 1815, has been described as an “aristocratic, anarchic and decentralized force.26” There is considerable truth in this depiction. In peace-time the British army was rarely deployed in formations larger than the regiment. Although small,

21 22 Their numbers actually increased after 1815. In 1830 42.2% of the other ranks of the regular army were Irish. Peter Karsten. “Irish Soldiers in the British Army, 1792-1922.” Journal of Social History. Fall 1983. 54 23 See below page 15 24 Even though there is an unfortunate, apparently unavoidable, tendency to use them as comic relief. William Makepeace Thackeray, during a dull coach ride from Cork to Bantry himself unaccountably amused by “a bandbox marked “Foggarty, Hatter.” What is there more ridiculous in the name Foggarty than in that of Smith? and yet, had Smith been the name, I never would have laughed or remarked it.” William M. Thacheray.The Irish Sketchbook.(London: 1900) 92. 25 The attitudes of Regular officers towards their Irish soldiers must have facilitated this integration. Wellington himself, an ‘ultra’ conservative in politics, was remarkably open-minded on the Irish question: “I will tell you that in my opinion the great object of our policy in Ireland should be to endeavour to obliterate, as far as the law will allow us, the distinction between Protestants and Catholics, and that we ought to avoid anything which can induce either sect to recollect or believe that its interests are separate and distinct from the other.” Letter to R.S. Tighe of the special Irish Board of Education reviewing the question of Catholic Education. 19th Nov., 1807. John Gurwood (ed.) Dispatches of Field Marshal, The Duke of Wellington (Millward: 1972) vol V 185 26 Elie Halevy. England in 1815.

7 intensively trained and recruited by voluntary enlistment it was a very different institution from the regular British army of today. Commissions were obtained by purchase, although there were minimum periods of service required of officers before they could secure promotions; at least this was the case after the reforms introduced by the Duke of York in the late 1790’s (for instance it required eight years service before the rank of could be acquired). Some officers were aristocrats, but “the majority of British officers hailed from the professional classes which encompassed everyone from the landed gentry to doctors, lawyers and tradesmen.27” It was also possible to obtain a commission from the ranks, but this was indubitably a rare phenomenon. Many recent studies have cast doubt on the traditional view of the British officer as an individual unconcerned with the minutiae of his profession. However, there is little doubt that British officer corps was distinguished more for its courage on the battlefield than on its talent for military organization or its knowledge of logistics. The Peninsular War era doubtlessly marked the apogee of the reputation of the British army. However, we shall see that many of the experiences and characteristics of the Peninsular army were similar to those of the Army as a whole throughout our era of study. The Anglo- under the Duke of Wellington won fifteen general engagements between 1808 and 1815. These were won by the efforts of the (from whose ranks an overwhelming majority of my soldier-memorialists are drawn). The British was undermanned and Wellington wrote of it (in 1813): “Our cavalry never gained a yet.” Of course, no army of the period could function without a cavalry arm yet the British suffered both from a paucity of numbers and a lack of practical training; this latter the result of ‘penny-packeting’ the cavalry in detachments while on home service. A recent study of the British viewed it28 as a highly professional institution yet one whose struggle against its far better equipped and numerous French counter-parts paralleled that of ‘David and Goliath.’ Thus the British infantryman was indeed ‘the item upon which victory depends.’ Baron von Muffling, Wellington’s Prussian liason at Waterloo wrote this tribute to the British infantry: For a battle, there is not perhaps in Europe an army equal to the British, that is to say, none whose tuition, discipline, and whole military tendency, is so purely and exclusively calculated to giving battle. The British soldier is vigorous, well-fed, by nature highly brave and intrepid, trained to the most rigorous discipline, and admirably well-armed. The infantry resist the attack of cavalry with great confidence, and when taken in the flank or rear, British troops are less disconcerted than any other European army. These circumstances in their favour, will explain, how this army, since the Duke of Wellington conducted it has never yet been defeated in the open field.

Muffling added: “There is no doubt, much to be envied, in the possibility of forming a whole army in some measure as .”29 Thus the common British infantryman is

27 Stuart Reid . Redcoat Officer. A. P. Bruce. The Purchase System in the British Army. 28 The one arm in which the purchase of commissions was not permitted. Military engineers were also promoted by seniority alone. In addition gunner officers had to attend Woolwich Academy before obtaining their commissions. B. P. Hughes. 29 in the British army were converted from Line (heavy) regiments and could be used interchangeably with them. Again, the whole being geared for general engagements.

8 viewed as being a match for the corps d’elite of other armies. One French authority wrote that the British infantryman” has no superior in the world; fortunately there are very few of him;30” an allusion to Britain’s refusal to introduce conscription. What made the British soldier unique? Although this dissertation is more concerned with moral than technical factors we must first look at the soldier’s enlistment and his terms of service. There are a variety of explanations why an individual would enlist in the regular Army. A notoriously caustic contemporary observer wrote: The French system of conscription brings together a fair sample of all classes; ours is composed of the scum of the earth – the mere scum of the earth. It is only wonderful that we should be able to make so much of them afterwards. The English soldiers are fellows who have enlisted for drink – that is fact – they have all enlisted for drink31.

This outrageous remark has a strong basis in reality (as well as going some way to explain the speaker’s inveterate support for punishment in the army). Incidents of pathological drunkenness both at home and on active service abound for our period. And the enlistment bounty, offered to anyone willing to enlist in the regular army, was both an inducement to enter the service and an excellent means to obtain liquor. In 1812, when the Army’s establishment was largely up to strength, the bounty still amounted to a remarkable 18 pounds and 12 shillings (over a year’s pay). This was the bounty for a seven year enlistment. Prior to 1806 all recruits had to sign-up for a twenty-one year term. The aim of limiting enlistment was to bring a less desperate class of people into the army. A supporter of limited enlistment opined: …it was repugnant to the principles of our constitution, that there should exist in it an army composed of men quite distinct from the rest of the community, and who have given up, those liberties which are incompatible with military discipline, never to resume them; that men who enlist for a limited period of time continue citizens, and have before them the prospect of once again enjoying their personal liberty and those privileges; that this not only renders the army less formidable to the liberties of the country, but much more formidable to the enemy to which it is opposed32.

Initially, the Secretary at War, abolished all life enlistments when he introduced the abbreviated term. However, after two years, enlistment rates were unchanged and the character of the recruits was unaltered. Thus from 1808 onward recruits were given a choice of seven or twenty-one year enlistments. A recruit who signed on for twenty-one years received 5 pounds and 5 shillings extra. Of 3143 recruits who received enlistment bounties in 1814 only 772 signed for seven years; “three quarters of those enlisting chose to sign their lives away for an extra five guineas.33” Of 566 Irish recruits only one chose limited service. There can scarcely be any doubt that the greater part of this largesse went to publicans rather than into savings. Twenty-three pounds might not last a man for life but it could provide a fantastic quantity of immediate

30 31 32 Marshall 33 Michael Glover. Wellington’a Army

9 gratification. High bounty payments led to the appearance of a class of bounty jumpers; men absconding with their bounties and then joining other regiments to obtain further payment. In 1787 one ambitious individual was discovered to have enlisted 49 times. In this context enlistment in the regular army acquired an ever more unenviable reputation. A recruiting sergeant has left this harrowing reminiscence of the means advisable to obtain recruits: …your last recourse was to get him drunk, and then slip a shilling in his pocket, get him home to your billet, and next morning swear he enlisted, bring all your party to prove it, get him persuaded to pass . Should he pass, you must try every means in your power to get him drunk, blow him up with a fine story, get him inveigled to the magistrates, in some shape or other, and get him attested; but by no means let him out of your hands…You must keep him drinking34

This technique was encountered by a number of our memorialists with interesting results; it was by no means confined to sergeant’s recruiting parties but was employed of by those led by officers as well. One sop to the recruiters’ difficulties was the Vagrancy Act, used aggressively during the War of American Independence and in the War with Revolutionary France. Magistrates were empowered to press into service “such able-bodied men as do not follow or exercise any lawful calling or employment, or have not some other lawful and sufficient support and maintenance.35” This law produced thousands of recruits during the crisis years of 1779-80. However, their quality was appalling and desertions rates increased each year of the American War. And they were responsible for much of the Army’s unfortunate reputation among the colonists. Dr. Bell: An absurd idea has gone abroad, that every vagabond is good enough to be a soldier…I am well informed, that the injury done to the cause of Britain, in America, by the licentious and marauding set of ruffians (and a disgrace to any service) in alienating the minds of the people from this country, was greater than any we sustained from the hostility of France or the capture of our armies…Men of bad character, whose vices have driven them into the army…having been long accustomed to carry on war against mankind in general, are often incapable or regardless of discriminating their friend from their foe36.

Dr. Bell entertained doubts about convict-recruits’ willingness to risk their lives in battle; “such fellows” could only be relied upon “in an inhuman predatory expedition, where

34 Anonymous. United Service Journal. John Shipp, a remarkable common soldier who had been commissioned into both the 87th Foot and the 25th Light Dragoons described the skills of a veteran recruiting sergeant: “…the following morning, he came to report to me that he had got three recruits, at which I expressed my delight, and desired that they might be brought in for my inspection. Reader, imagine my surprise, when the first two that met my longing sight were the parson and sexton of the parish, both evidently wearing the marks of having been raking all night.” These eminent personages had to buy their way out of their predicament (as did the sergeant’s father, his third victim). The Sergeant received bounties for each of the enlistments and further informed his : “I hope, Sir, you now approve of my activity; for I assure you, Sir, I was as near getting the beadle of the parish as possible, only his wife came in, and soon convinced me a retrograde movement was necessary, and the old beadle was toddled home singing, “See the Conquering comes.’ John Shipp. The Military Bijou (London: 18310 vol II. 54-55. 35 Henry Marshall. Military Miscellany. 36

10 there is a prospect of gain, and little danger to be encountered.” He believed strongly that ‘the healthiest soldiers, and the most useful to their country, are men of the best character.” He despaired, however, of obtaining a sufficiency of such men by contemporary recruiting methods. Aside from providing the army with vagrants British law actively blocked the entry of the respectable poor into active service. duty provided an alternative to full-time enlistment rather than supplying the army with a reserve manpower source. The regular army was prohibited from recruiting militiamen until well after the outbreak of the war with in 1803. In addition, the Volunteer movement swallowed up thousands of respectable recruits throughout the periods 1775-83 and 1793-1815. At their height the Volunteers numbered 414,000 men (the regular army numbering 230,000). Admittedly few of their number would have been willing to serve twenty-one years in the regulars but they were still a drain on potential manpower resources. Throughout the 1790’s the Army employed ‘crimps,’ individuals contracted out to obtain recruits for the Army. In practice their methods resembled those of the Navy’s press gangs. These activities inflicted further wounds on the Army’s already battered prestige. There were two important developments that reversed the decline. First the Militia Ballot Act of 1802 made all men aged between 18 and 40 subject to be drafted for militia service. The militia were far better disciplined and more closely under government supervision than the Volunteers; whose grossly inflated numbers began to shrink. From 1805 on Militia regiments were encouraged to transfer men into the Line. From 1805- 1815 nearly one half of all enlistments into the regular army came from the Militia. The second factor was the great change in the Army’s fortunes in battle. Massive allocations of men to the West Indies became a thing of the past as the last French islands were captured and West India Regiments were raised to garrison them. In 1801 the British army under the command of Sir Ralph Abercrombie won a smashing victory in Egypt. In 1806 British troops under Sir John Stuart heavily defeated a force of French veterans at the Battle of Maida in southern (after this triumph Col. John Colborne, the future Field-Marshal Lord Seaton, light-heartedly wrote: “I now begin to think, as our ancestors did, that one Englishman is equal to two Frenchmen”37). And in 1808 the Peninsular War began. Soon the British army under Wellington became inured to victory. Despite further setbacks at Walcheren and later on in Flanders at Bergen-op-Zoom, the army’s prestige had been more than recouped. However, most recruits were still obtained from the “desperate” classes of society; especially Irish society. The British army never became a force drawn from all classes; however, this did not prevent its soldiers from repeatedly evincing pride in their nation. After 1815 the army was dramatically reduced and short-term enlistments were done away with. In some ways the situation reverted back to that of prior to 1793. There were some permanent changes, however. Corruption had largely been eliminated from the system. Colonels no longer paid salaries out to non-existent soldiers in frank hopes of making a profit from the purchase of their commissions. Ireland continued to be a major source of manpower as Catholics could be openly recruited. Thus manpower never approached a crisis point in the period 1815-1837; as it had even before the outbreak of war with Revolutionary France. The small, peace-time army enjoyed the luxury of turning recruits away. As the 5’ foot tall poet John Clare discovered when he attempted to

37

11 enlist in the in 1820.38 And this despite the fact that the enlistment bounty had fallen to 3 pounds. The better quality of the troops was confirmed by the dramatic drop in the incidence of corporal punishment during this period. In 1818, 839 defaultors were admitted to hospital as a consequence of corporal punishment. This number fell to 165 by 1835. The dramatic nature of the drop-off also reflected a more liberal spirit animating military justice as other punishments, notably fines and imprisonment, replaced flogging. A few words about our soldier-authors; by the act of writing their memoirs (and even of writing letters home) these men set themselves somewhat apart from their comrades. As Sir phrased it: “the diarist in the ranks was generally a steady sort of fellow, who did not get into the worst trouble.39” This is certainly true of a majority of our soldiers. However, as their numbers also include three deserters and three recipients of the attentions of the bandsman’s mate,40 they are, perhaps a better cross- section than would be immediately supposed. They served throughout the Empire as well as in the European theaters and were not unrepresentative as regards their pre-enlistment employment. However, there are some notable discrepancies. There are more memoirs for the period 1808-15 than any other. This is a reflection of the great sense of national pride engendered by the Peninsular War and the . There was an unusually public for soldiers’ memoirs. In addition, many of the writers for this period were ‘Seven-year’ men who enlisted from the militia. Such a background generally did imply a steadiness of temperament, even if the individual was drawn from the same socioeconomic background as most other soldiers. However, since the period saw a great increase in the number of short-term (and militia) enlistments, their prevalence amongst are writers hardly makes the latter unrepresentative of the whole. What is indubitably lacking among ‘our’ soldiers is representation of Irish Catholics. Literacy was far lower in Ireland than in any other part of the British Isles; and far, far lower among Catholics than among Protestants there. In fact, four soldier-writers whose works I am utilizing were born Catholics but converted to Protestantism.41 Only two practicing Irish Catholics are to be found among nearly one hundred sources42. This discrepancy must be born in mind and efforts will be made to at least indirectly record the Irish presence by consciously exploiting those references made to Irishmen in the ranks by the authors. Remarkably, one of the memorialists was actually a United Irishman before being pressed into the British service. Yet even he, Pvt. Andrew Bryson, was a Protestant; one of the small minority of his community who joined the uprising in 1798. With this caveat readily acknowledged I commence the body of my dissertation.

38 The diminutive Clare had served in the militia during the period 1812-15 and had had to resist the blandishments of hid NCO’s to join a Line regiment. Jonathan Bate. John Clare (New York: 2003) 39 Charles Oman. Wellington’s Army 40 Boy soldiers traditionally administered floggings. 41 See background of Sgt. Anthony Hamilton below chapter one.. 42 Both men of the 49th although one, Thomas Sullivan served in the American war of Independence and the other, James Fitzgibbon, in the .

12 I. “THOU LIKES THE SMELL OF POOTHER:” The Men who served in the ranks and the reasons they chose to ‘go for a soldier’

“My father had a good freehold property and was well to live; he died when I was quite young which deprived me of the means of an early education. I was bound to a trade, but soon ran away and went to , when I enlisted in the 43rd Light Infantry…1” With this terse declaration Sgt. Anthony Hamilton summarizes the circumstances of his enlistment in 1807. Hamilton’s is a representative account in that it combines a description of relatively straitened personal circumstances with an idiosyncratic desire for adventure. Fortunately most of our other memorialists are far more expansive in retelling the ‘tale’ of their enlistments. However, before relating incidents from individual memoirs I will present a more general analysis of the recruitment of the British army and the background of enlistees into its ranks. Material is provided by regimental muster books, inspection reports, pension records and more generalized data compiled by the British government; as well as general regulations provided to officers on ‘recruiting service.’ Recruits were entitled to enlistment bounties that reached the dizzying heights of 18 pounds during the last years of the War against Napoleon2. In addition, any individual, civilian or military, who procured a recruit was entitled to a reward of one pound3. This was , however, a number of soldiers assigned to recruiting detachments attempted to supplement their incomes further with “Smart Money.” This was a ‘kickback’ offered by dissatisfied recruits in an effort to escape the service; there were incidents as well of recruiters and enlistees dividing bounty payments between them prior to the recruits’ escape. Thus the official instructions warn It being contrary to the Law and highly injurious to the recruiting service, to permit money to be taken by any NCO or soldier under the name of Smart Money, and in consequence thereof to discharge any man who has received inlisting money, except such man shall have been carried before a magistrate, within the four days prescribed by the Mutiny Act, and in his presence shall have declared his Dissent to such inlisting; Recruiting officers are therefore to send any NCO or private soldier guilty of this offense to Chatham barracks as a prisoner, and with the necessary evidence for his conviction, in order to his being brought to trail for the same4. This abuse was at its worst during the 1790’s when the Army was most desperate for manpower. However, as we shall see in our chapter on military crime, prosecutions for “Smart Money” offenses continued until 1815 and beyond5.

1 Anthony Hamilton. Hamilton’s Campaign with Moore and Wellington. 2 For the Guards and Cavalry. Thomas Morris received a sum of 14 pounds for joining the 2nd/73rd that year. Thomas Morris. The Napoleonic Wars. John Selby (ed.) (Hamden: 1967) 6. Some supplemented the government bounty. An anonymous veteran of the 74th recalled “an big bounties we got – twal an’ whiles twenty guineas.” This latter award was received in 1810. Greenhill Gardyne. “A Crack with an Old 74th Man.” Chronicle. 1904. 148. 3 Regulations and Instructions for Carrying out the Recruiting Service for His Majesty’s Forces Stationed Abroad (: Charing Cross) 1796 4 Regulations and Instructions for Carrying Out the Recruiting Service for His Majesty’s Forces Stationed Abroad (London: War Office) 1796. 5“No man in Debt is to be sent on the recruiting service.” Standing Orders of the 19th or Assaye Regiment of Light Dragoons. (London: 1813). 86. In his satirical “Advice”, Francis Grose wrote “In enlisting men

13 The rewards offered for securing recruits helped create a numerous class of “Crimps.” These were ‘enterprisers’ who procured soldiers on a cash basis. If an individual was witnessed receiving a bounty and taking the oath to the King and was then kept from approaching a magistrate for four days he would be accepted as a voluntary recruit. What happened to him over those four days was generally ignored. The profession was particularly in evidence the 1790’s when rewards from particular regiments might substantially exceed one pound6. However, Sergeant Samuel Hickson of the East India ’s Madras Army describes a party of them at work in 1779: “I fell in with one of those kidnappers who make it their business to decoy unthinking youth into the India Company’s Service.7” As we shall see below the impoverished Hickson did not require force or trickery to induce him to enlist. However, those means were certainly available: shocking… to behold a lot of young Englishmen delivered by a Crimp, to the officer or regiment who receives them; some drunk, some spiritless and heart- broken; some swearing and damming that they will not be soldiers, for they have never engaged to be such. And tho’ I have known several to persist in this assertion, yet I never knew but one who procured his release by it; and he was a fellow who had been an attorney (!) The anonymous officer who recounted these experiences added that the numbers of soldiers enlisted by Crimps was not as great as it might be since many recruits were “in league with the Crimps to run away from the service and inlist themselves over and over again for different corps.8” On August 21, 1794, violent anger against the practice erupted into the largest riots seen in London during the period 1793-1815. An unwilling recruit named George Howe, taken the night before, was found dead outside the King’s Arms ‘recruiting’ house in Charing Cross; his hands were still tied behind his back. The subsequent outbreak lasted three days and saw a number of public houses destroyed before the combined efforts of the Guards regiments, six county militia battalions and several hundred special constables restored order.9 However, Crimping persisted into the 19th century. Only the increasing number of enlistments from the Militia made it less prevalent. It required collapse of the value of enlistment bounties after 1815 to largely kill it off10. The techniques legally employed by recruiting sergeants were alluded to in the Introduction. There was a bacchanal atmosphere around recruiting detachments designed to create the illusion of a future care-free existence for the enlistee. Officers were supposed to limit a detachment’s excesses, however they were often less than assiduous

never mind if they are fit for the service or not. If they cannot serve, they are the more likely to pay the smart.” Francis Grose. Advices to Officers of the British Army. (London: 1786) 66. 6 “I can point out the houses and the names of persons by whom men have been bought and sold…some for eight, ten, twelve Guineas.” Anonymous. Reflections on the Pernicious Custom of Recruiting by Crimps, (London: 1795) 14. The quality of recruits during this period was notoriously bad. An inspection report for the newly raised (and soon to be disbanded) 107th Regiment lists only 218 privates fit to serve out of a total 539 enlisted. 44 are described as “old and totally unfit for service – some of them above 80 years of age, none under 60” – WO 27/77 7 British Library Eur. Manuscript B296 – “Letters of Sgt. Samuel Hickson” 8 Anon. Crimps. 20-21. 9 John Stevenson. “The London Crimp Riots of 1794.” International Review of Social History. 1971 (160, 40-58. Remarkably, despite considerable property damage no individual was killed during the riots. 10 Bounties fell to under five pounds – Military Register July 20, 1815

14 in pursuing this goal. George Elers of the 12th Regiment was invalided home from India in 1808. He then spent several years as a recruiting officer. The Captain describes this time as: “four years of uninterrupted pleasure and happiness…certainly the happiest years of my life.” Sadly they were not, perhaps the most productive. Here he describes his ‘hands-off’ approach to recruiting: I got to Ipswich about the middle of November, and I found on my arrival about half a dozen of the volunteers whom I had selected to strengthen my recruiting party. I selected one tall, good-looking man for a servant, and I found by the assistance of these new recruits that I enlisted every now and then some raw country fellow. In the meantime I made further progress in the society of Ipswich11.

The volunteers were recent recruits Elers chose from the regimental depot in Suffolk evidently based on their appearance and rusticity. They and “one poor old-fashioned sergeant, Dalrymple” clearly enjoyed some discretion (and much free-time) in their search for recruits. The soldiers’ uniforms, always a matter of profound concern in the Army, were particularly scrutinized when worn on the recruiting service. They were regarded as an important inducement to enlist: What mortal…could look without laughing, upon a man accoutred with so much paltry gaudiness and affected finery? The coarsest manufacture that can be made of wool, dyed of a brick-dust color goes down with him (the recruit), because it is in the imitation of scarlet or crimson cloth; and to make him think himself as like his officer as possible, with little or no cost, instead of silver or gold lace, his hat is trimmed with white or yellow worsted…these fine allurements, and the noise made on a calf’s skin, have drawn in and been the destruction of more men …than all the real or fancied crimes in the world.12

Naturally, the constant care required to maintain a meticulous appearance with inferior materials was not advertised by recruiters. Within the army’s regiments themselves the arrival of new recruits was a cause for celebration; ready money was at hand. Sergeant Joseph Donaldson recalls his arrival at the barracks of the 94th Regiment in Dunbar: …An old soldier sat down beside me; and, remarking that I looked dull, asked me where I came from, when I replied, “.” I was immediately claimed as a townsmen by some of the knowing ones, one of whom had the Irish brogue in perfection, and another the distinguishing dialect and accent of a cockney “You don’t speak like natives of Glasgow,” said I. “Och! stop until you be as long from home as me,” said Paddy, giving a wink to his comrades, “and you will forget both your mother-tongue and the mother that bore you.” “Ha’ ya got yere bounty yet, laddie?” asked an Aberdeen man. “Yes,” said I.

11George Elers. Memoirs of George Elers. (London: 1903) 222. 12 Anonymous. Reflections on the Pernicious Custom of Recruiting by Crimps. (London: 1795), 6.

15 “Than you’ll no want for friens as lang as it lasts.” So I found; for every little attention was paid me that they could devise…It appeared to me that I was set up at auction to the highest bidder…13

Not only did Donaldson pay for food and liquor, he was expected to make loans to any man that asked. His efforts to later collect repayment provoked laughter “at my simplicity in expecting repayment of any money borrowed out of a bounty!” This was a general experience for new recruits. Pvt. Andrew Bryson, a United Irishman enlisted into the service as a penal measure, actually encountered it on joining the 43rd Regiment on Martinique in 1800: “In the meantime, everyone who could get a glass of spirits insisted on our drinking with them, but knowing the motives which actuated them & knowing that it was not in my power to repay them, I set myself positively against drinking anything but water.14” Of course, Bryson and his fellow soldier-convicts had received no bounties on enlisting. The British army was recruited from the laboring classes of all three kingdoms. Theoretically each regiment possessed a recruiting district of its own where its depot was located. Thus an English ‘county’ regiment would ideally be entirely English in composition. In practice recruiting parties roamed wide afield, the ideal goal of individually assigned recruiting districts not being allowed “to preclude Corps in general from sending recruiting parties to the great manufacturing towns in England and ; as also to Scotland and Ireland.15” Thus, in the interest of the ‘absolute good of the service’ recruiting parties could ‘poach’ in the territories of other regiments. For this reason most battalions were a ‘mixed bag’ drawn from across the United Kingdom. The inspection reports for 1810 the following numbers for the national composition of nominally English Regiments (Table1.1):

Table 1.1 - National Composition of Nominally English Regiments – 1810 Regiment (county English Scots Irish designation and where stationed) 37th (Hampshire: 431 (70%) 33 (5%) 155 (25%) Horsham barracks) 2nd/44th (Essex: Isla 159 (24%) 6 (2%) 487 (79%) de Leon, Spain)

13 Joseph Donaldson. Recollections of the Eventful Life of a Soldier. (Staplehurst: 2000) 38. 14 Andrew Bryson. The Ordeal of Andrew Bryson. In his “Advices” Francis Grose advises recruiting sergeants that “as soon as a recruit has spent all his bounty money, which with your kind assistance, and that of the drummer and party, he may do in a very short time” they should give them an opportunity to desert as apprehending a deserter entailed a reward of twenty shillings! Grose. 66. 15Regulations and Instructions for Carrying out the Recruiting Service. Regimental Standing Orders seconded this call for open recruiting: (Recruiting parties) will use their utmost endeavours to procure men, making no distinction between Eglish, Scotch and Irish; nor will they make any distinction on account of religion.” However , recruiting parties were “to enlist no foreigners.” Standing Orders of the 19th or Assaye Regiment of Light Dragoons. 86. A War Office Circular on Recruiting Issued on Dec. 1, 1810 advised that “The Officer and (recruiting) Party should, as far as possible, be natives of the town or neighborhood where they are employed, or at any rate be well acquainted with the County and general character of the Inhabitants.’ Obviously given the mixed nationalities of recruits this suggestion was not always acted upon. WO 30/85

16 Table 1.1 continued 46th (Cornwall: 87 (40%) 55 (25%) 76 (35%) Dominica) 1st/47th (North 492 (62%) 34 (4%) 273 (34%) Lancashire: Bombay) 2nd/47th ( North 541 (57%) 15 (2%) 388 (41%) Lancashire: ) 1st/50th (: 554 (63%) 32 (3%) 299 (34%) )) 2nd/50th (Kent: 319 (74%) 3 (1%) 109 (25%) Silver Hill Barracks) 2nd/52nd 480 (60%) 43 (5%) 276 (35%) (Oxfordshire: Chatham Barracks) 68th (Durham: 297 (43%) 83 (12%) 313 (45%) Hythe Barracks) 70th (: St. 104 (35%) 20 (7%) 174 (58%) Thomas) 77th (Middlesex: 490 (68%) 65 (9%) 169 (23%) Bexhill)

Only two ‘English’ battalions forming the cross section could be described as being overwhelmingly English (Table 1.2):

Table 1.2 - “Overwhelmingly” English Regiments – 1810 2nd/35th (Sussex: 431 (93%) 0 31 (7%) Barracks) 76th (Yorkshire: 737 (95%) 9 (1%) 33 (4%) Ipswich)

Three others were largely English (Table 1.3):

Table 1.3 - “Largely” English Regiments – 1810 1st/36th 546 (81%) 17 (2%) 112 (17%) (Worcestershire: Battle Barracks) 1st/38th 705 (81%) 19 (2%) 145 (17%) (: Shorncliffe) 53rd (Shropshire: 768 (82%) 46 (5%) 117 (13%) Cawnpore, India)

17 An English regiment’s national composition was largely determined by the success of its local recruiting parties. A being stationed in or near its recruiting district ought to have had advantages in recruiting. More men were available to form recruiting parties and potential recruits did not have to face the prospect of immediate foreign service. And four of the most heavily ‘national’ of the English regiments were stationed in England enjoying the advantages of local recruitment; however, the fifth was stationed very far afield indeed and its largely English composition was most likely a matter of contingency. In addition, six of the ‘mixed’ regiments were stationed at home; ‘home’ recruiting did not necessarily produce a heavy majority of Englishmen. Scottish regiments during the same period reflected only a somewhat more ‘national’ character (Table 1.4):

Table 1.4 - National Composition of Nominally Scottish Regiments – 1810 Regiment (where English Scots Irish stationed) 1st/71st (Brabourne 69 (7%) 701 (66%) 287 (27%) Lees) 2nd/71st (Glasgow) 20 (3%) 476 (74%) 146 (23%) 1st/72nd 124 (15%) 525 (63%) 182 (22%) (Stellenbosch, Cape Colony) 1st/73rd (Prose Farm 306 (40%) 300 (39%) 166 (21%) Camp, New South Wales) 1st/78th (Goa) 87 (11%) 652 (82%) 51 (7%) 2nd/78th (Fort 7 (1%) 495 (96%) 16 (3%) George)

Only the two battalions of the 78th could be described as overwhelmingly Scottish in character. And the 2nd/78th was stationed not merely in its home country but in its own regimental recruiting district; a great advantage in maintaining its national character. The other Scottish regiments’ composition was as much a subject of the vicissitudes of recruiting as their English counter-parts16. If the ethnic composition of British regiments was frequently mixed the socio- economic background of its recruits was quite uniform. An analysis of the working backgrounds of pensioners drawn from six regiments during the period 1806-1829 reveals the following breakdown (Table 1.5):

Table 1.5 - Working Backgrounds of Soldiers of Six Regiments – 1806-1829 Regiment Laborers Weavers Other 42nd (Highland) 324 (76%) 53 (12%) 5017 (12%)

16 WO 27/99 17 10 shoemakers (2%), 8 tailors, 5 blacksmiths, 4 bakers, 4 hosiers, 2 cotton spinners, 2 printers and one representative each of the following trades: sadler, gardener, nailer,

18 Table 1.5 continued 48th () 90 (42%) 63 (30%) 6018 (28%) 64th (Staffordshire) 258 (53%) 125 (26%) 10819 (21%) 65th (Lancaster) 136 (53%) 46 (18%) 7520 (29%) 68th (Durham) 124 (59%) 31 (15%) 54 21(26%) 72nd (Highland) 180 (49%) 103 (28%) 8722 (23%) 73rd (Highland) 55 (63%) 7 (8%) 2623 (29%)

.

hairdresser, rope spinner, miner, painter, cordwainer, plaisterer, slater, miller, butcher, whitesmith and wool spinner. 18 9 shoemakers (+ 3 cordwainers) (5%), 5 tailors, 4 blacksmiths, 4 cotton-spinners, 3 nailers, 2 bricklayers, 2 painters and one representative each drawn from the following trades: fine wool knitter, butcher, hosier, hatter, mason, whitesmith, sawyer, cotton- machine maker, glazier, , clothes-dresser, stone mason, locksmith, tanner, thatcher, stocking-weaver, cork-cutter, rope-maker, miner, brazier, bleacher, brass-fitter, wool- comber, chair-maker, gardener, glass-maker, collier and stay-maker. 19 25 cordwainers (+ 2 shoemakers) (6%), 12 sailors, 6 tailors, 5 hosiers, 4 butchers, 4, blacksmiths, 3 gardeners, 3 miners, 2 coopers, 2 rope-makers, 2 clerks, 2 sawyers, 2 bakers, 2 cutlers, 2 painters and one representative each from the following trades: ship’s carpenter, steel beater, currier, wheelwright, stay-maker, chair-maker, brass founder, coach-maker, cabinet maker, nailer, hairdresser, filesmith, brick maker, sadler, stonecutter, hatter, slater, ribbon weaver, sutler, cloth dresser, servant, bookbinder, tile maker, groom, locksmith, brazier, cotton spinner, wool-knitter, bricklayer and brush- maker. 20 7 shoemakers (+ 3 cordwainers) (4%), 5 hairdressers, 4 carpenters, 4 tailors, 4 sailors, 3 gardeners, 3 comb-makers, 3 brick-layers, 3 ribbon weavers, 2 barbers, 2 silversmiths, 2 stocking weavers, 2 nailers, 2 sawyers, 2 blacksmiths, 2 cotton spinners, and one representative each drawn from the following trades: glass-grinder, factor, mason, furrier, cabinet-maker, printer, miller, collier, wheelwright, dyer, goldsmith, cutler, brass-maker, place-maker, ship’s carpenter, bellows-maker, sail-maker, painter, plasterer, cotton- printer. 218 tailors (4%), 6 stone masons, 6 shoemakers, 4 blacksmiths, 3 hosiers, 3 carpenters, 2 brick-layers, 2 wool-combers, 2 chimney-sweepers, and one representative each drawn from the following trades: cabinet- maker, breeches-maker, chandler, sail-maker, farmer, silversmith, jeweler, crystal-cutter, fine wool knitter, servant, painter, tile-cutter, stay-maker, wheelwright, hair-dresser, stone-cutter, papermaker, and whitesmith 22 14 shoemakers (+ 1 cordwainer) (4%), 10 tailors, 7 sailors, 6 carpenters, 6 hosiers, 4 butchers, 4 hair-dressers, 4 bakers, 3 blacksmiths, 3 colliers, 3 gardeners, and one representative each drawn from the following trades: miller, mason, joiner, dyer, wool- comber, coachman, painter, soap-boiler, cloth-maker, bookbinder, milliner, watchmaker, paper-maker, stocking-maker, printer, cotton-spinner, tobacco-spinner, brass-founder, tobacconist, fishhook-maker, tanner and filer 23 2 shoemakers (+ 1 cordwainer) (2%), 2 butchers, 2 sailors, 2 fine-wool-knitters, and one representative each drawn from the following trades: reed-maker, tailor, brick-maker, wool-comber, chain-maker, wheelwright, brass-founder, cotton-spinner, miner, painter, hatter, bricklayer, nailer, gardener, chair-maker, stone mason and worker

19 . The enlistment records of soldiers of the 3rd who served in the somewhat earlier period of 1785-180424 and then qualified for pensions reveal a similar breakdown: 34 laborers (46%), 7 weavers (9%) and 33 ‘others (45%).’25 The Succession Book of the 1st Guards records the following mix of occupations of soldiers for the year 180626: 54 laborers (35%), 24 weavers (15%), and 76 ‘others’ (50%).27 The Succession Book of The for that same year28 records the following mix of occupations: 146 laborers (46%), 17 weavers (5%) and 151 ‘others’ (49%)29 The muster roll of Captain Cunningham’s Company of the 85th Regiment for June 181330 reveals the following breakdown: 56 laborers (66%), 12 weavers (14%), and 17 ‘others’ (20%)31 The discharge records of the 8th (King’s) Regiment32 reveal the following background for enlistees for the period 1806-1818: 106 laborers (56%), 36 weavers (19%) and 46 ‘others’ (25%)33 The unusually detailed records of the 8th also record that 140 of the soldiers were Irish-born and no more than 58 were from England.34 The

24 WO 67/3 25 5 fine-wool knitters (7%), 3 cordwainers (+2 shoemakers), 2 butchers, 2 potters, 2 cabinet-makers and one representative each drawn from the following trades: upholsterer, carpenter, plater, nailer, barrow-maker, gardener, baker, butcher, skinner, goldsmith, hosier, stay-maker, printer, hatter, brazier, cooper and tailor. 26 WO 25/875 27 13 tailors (8%), 10 cordwainers (+ 1 shoemaker), 6 carpenters, 5 bakers, 4 clothiers, 3 hatters, 3 sailors, 3 hosiers, 3 brick-layers, 3 masons, 3 locksmiths, 2 glovers, 2 spinners, 2 butlers, and one representative each from the following trades: leather-dresser, ship- well, grinder, leather-stainer, buckler, anchorsmith, harness-maker, currier, hair-dresser, calico printer, cloth-maker, coach-maker and engineer. 28 WO 25/875 29 16 cordwainers (5%), 15 miners, 9 tailors, 6 bricklayers, 6 stocking-makers, 5 sawyers, 3 brass-founders, 3 carpenters, 3 brick-makers, 3 stone masons, 3 hair-dressers, 3 plaisterers, 2 buckle-makers, 2 hatters, 2 cotton spinners, 2 wheelwrights, 2 gardeners, 2 coachmen, 2 button-makers, 2 painters, 2 blacksmiths, 2 bookbinders, 2 butchers, and one representative each from the following trades: collar-maker, gunsmith, glover, collier, tallow-chandler, engineer, turner, razor-grinder, miller, baker, cooper, fine-wool knitter, leather-dresser, dyer, frame-maker, nailer, wool-comber, maltster, sailor, bleacher, moulder, engraver, picture-maker, cutler, grocer, calenderer, watchmaker, stone-cutter, basker, tobacconist, knitter, fustian cutter, sadler, needle-maker, felt-monger and toy-maker. 18 Guardsmen (6%) list their former occupation as None. 30 NAM Mss. 7810-86 31 5 shoemakers (6%), 3 tailors, 2 carpenters and one representative each drawn from the following trades: potter, brick-layer, crofter, gardener, button-maker, joiner and nailer. 32 WO 67/7 33 10 tailors (5%), 8 shoemakers, 7 servants, 5 nailers, 4 blacksmiths, and one representative each from the following professions: crèche-maker, silk-weaver, brick- layer, spinner, collier, boats-man, mason, cooper, baker, gardener, stone mason and potter. 34 The inspection report for the 1st/8th Regiment for June 1815 (stationed at ) reveals 269 Englishmen, 32 Scotsmen and 326 Irishmen. That for the 2nd/8th (which was, very unusually, also stationed

20 recruiting area of the 8th is the point of arrival for most Irish emigrants to England. The average age of recruits at the time of enlistment was 18.12 years. The youngest recruit, John , was eight years old at time of his enlistment; the eldest, George Foster, was 29. One soldier, Job Aldridge, who had enlisted at the age of 12 and was English-born, received a commission from the ranks. He became an in 1837 after having served 31 years in the 8th. The records of the 8th also reveal the backgrounds of recruits who enlisted in 1826. These generally conform to the pattern of the earlier era of laborers mixed with a scattering of tradesmen. However, they do reveal a high proportion of weavers: 49 laborers (41%), 40 weavers (34%), and 27 ‘others’ (25%).35 The final numbers for regimental pension returns, Succession books, discharge records and muster rolls reveals that out of 2865 soldiers serving in the period 1783-1818 1563 were laborers (54.5%) and 524 were weavers (18.2%). These samples all serve to confirm the preponderance of laborers among the ‘other ranks’ of the British army during our period. The Guards regiments were not drawn from an appreciably higher social strata than the regiments of the Line. The smattering of skilled tradesmen for each regiment would tend to suggest that there was an active quest for representatives of each trade (the extraordinary mix of trades found in the Coldstream Guards could, perhaps, be explained by their direct access to London as a recruiting area; as might their paucity of self-described weavers). However, the recruiting officer’s guides do not directly attest to any such object36. Having provided some statistical analysis as to the background of the “average37” British soldier I will now proceed to present the accounts of the experience of enlistment provided by a cross-section of the soldier-memorialists.38 We will see that by background they do largely fit the ‘pattern’ for typical soldiers; it is however, a very broad pattern. The term laborer is not much more informative than that of factory-worker would be one hundred years later. Thus, I strongly believe, that it is in the idiosyncratic motivations of each individual for enlistment that we may receive the greatest illumination as to the nature of the experience itself. The soldiers’ stories will be presented in broadly chronological order; however, exact enlistment dates are unavailable in some instances.

in Montreal, as a consequence of the American War) records 206 Englishmen, 15 Scotsmen and 213 Irishmen. 35 6 masons, 3 tailors, 2 iron-founders, and one representative each drawn from the following trades: potter, baker, painter, cordwainer, stone mason, tray-maker, cabinet- maker, brick-maker, calico printer, butcher, brush-maker, sawyer, turner, spinner, servant and blacksmith. 36The Standing Orders of the 85th Light Infantry direct recruiting parties to seek out agricultural laborerers: (the Commanding Officer) wishes both Officers and Parties to be apprized that the class of Men, of all others, who by experience are found to make the best soldiers, is that of Farmers' Servants and Labourers, as from being less debauched, more accustomed to labour, and in general more habituated to submission to their masters, than the inhabitants and manufacturers in large towns...” 37 The composition of the ranks of the British Army remained largely unchanged throughout the 19th century. John Baynes describes the composition of a regular battalion (2nd Scottish Rifles) in 1914 as “Lower Middle Class – 5%, Working Class – 25%, Real Lower Class (unskilled, no profession) 70%). John Baynes. Morale. (Garden City: 1988) 134. 38 Drawn from those works that describe the writer’s enlistment into the Regular army in some detail. This would obviously preclude an account such as Cpl. Robert Browns “Journal of the Flanders Campaign” as it begins in 1793 and provides no background information about the author.

21 Sergeant Roger Lamb was born on the 17th of January, 1756 in Dublin. His father was a Protestant tradesman whose situation was “reputable…but far from affluent.39” Robert was the youngest of eleven children. His eldest brother died in the in 1761. Lamb’s father, “a man of much reading,” made sure his youngest son could read and write with fluency. He did not wish to see Robert enter the service, but having a seafaring background he tended to regale his son with stories of naval adventure: I well remember, when a child, walking with him down the North Wall, he would describe to me, in the most easy and interesting manner, a naval engagement, and by the most apt and familiar transition, turn the discourse to the battles which were then fighting between the English and the French. These stories “raised an anxious desire…for a seafaring life” while “kindling a martial ardor” in Lamb’s breast. At around the age of ten Lamb became friends with a landowner’s son (Mr. William Howard). The latter obtained a commission in an infantry regiment bound for America. Lamb attempted to enlist as a bandsman but “no situation could be procured.” Undaunted he ran away from home in hopes of ‘entering on board a vessel” bound for North America. He secured a birth as a cabin boy but his father managed to intercede with the captain and “prevented my intended plan of folly for a time.” Lamb did not appreciate his deliverance; rather he became “a disappointed idler…delighted with every folly that but too fatally captivate(s) the juvenile mind.” Dublin possessed a notoriously violent underworld. “Club-law” was enforced by its gangs: “numbers of daring, desperate fellows used to assemble, form themselves in battle array and cut and maim each other without mercy or remorse.” Lamb is unclear about his own status among these worthies. However, he did recall “that the small sword exercise became his favorite pursuit.” He only abandoned it because he was unable to find “a sufficient number of adversaries to exhibit my skill.” Lamb believed this was a kindness visited on him by “over-ruling Providence.” Proficiency with a sword was, after all “largely confined to the higher orders of society;” by inference a swordsman drawn from Lamb’s ‘order’ was more likely to end up on the gallows than become a celebrated duelist. Lamb continued to contemplate a military life, for which he was endowed with “a natural and inherent love.” However he was only moved to act “when seduced to gaming by some evil companions, with whom I had thoughtlessly associated, I lost my little all.” Instead of turning to his father for money he “formed the resolution of entering for a soldier.” He approached a sergeant of the 9th Regiment who legally supplemented his income by keeping a public house outside the Dublin barracks. The latter swore Lamb in and on August 24, 1773 he joined the Regiment in Waterford. Lamb’s memoir is one of the few that presents a private soldier’s training in any detail and thus deserves to be quoted at length. Lamb: (I) was put into the hands of a drill-, and taught to walk and step out like a soldier. This at first was a disagreeable task to me. During twenty- one days I was thus drilled four hours each day. However, having at last rectified the most prominent appearance of my awkwardness, I received a set of accoutrements, and a firelock, and was marched each morning from

39Roger Lamb. Memoir of his Own Life. (London: 1811) 6.

22 the barrack to the bowling green, near the water-side, to be instructed in the manual exercise (of arms). (II) The most disagreeable days of a soldier, are those in which he learns his exercise. And it is seldom that he entertains much regard for those who teach him. Hence the office of drill-serjeant, although one of the most important is not one of the most thankful. However…I must own that some of the old drill-serjeants were unnecessarily, if not wantonly severe. Lamb was now ready to enter his company’s barracks as a full-fledged soldier. We shall meet him again in later chapters. Samuel Hickson joined the ’s Madras Artillery regiment in 1779. His father had been a worsted-cloth maker who possessed “a little land nominally his own, but mortgaged for almost all the value of it;” he died when Hickson was thirteen. There was no will so Hickson could only dispose of the business and the property after turning eighteen. Until then he and his mother had to work the business ‘as best they could.’ Hickson formed a romantic attachment to the sister-in-law of the local vicar yet due to his youth and straitened circumstances he could not act upon it. The year before he turned eighteen, disaster struck the family. Small-pox “which in the country is dreaded almost like a plague” broke out among their neighbors and as a result: “we were obliged to be shut up from all intercourse with other people, and all business to be entirely still.” This “reduced our circumstances very low indeed.” Hickson’s relations provided no relief (despite one uncle having property worth 200 pound per year). In 1776 Hickson turned eighteen and found a buyer for his property. Hickson already owed this individual twenty pounds; however, he promised the young man to forgive the debt and even to furnish him with further credit. The farm would be paid for in installments. As a result Hickson decided to continue in the worsted business and proposed to marry his beloved. At first he prospered. However, his former creditor soon failed to make his payments for the farm and then began to demand the 20 pounds he had ‘forgiven.” In addition, Hickson’s uncle now insisted on the payment of a debt owed by the former’s late father: “these disappointments, added to some losses in trade, brought me into very straitened circumstances.” Ultimately Hickson had to abandon his business, his family and his fiancé: “I thought I could endure the greatest hardships among strangers, who were unacquainted with my former situation in life, than to bear the reproach of such as called themselves my friends.” He informed his mother that he was off on a local errand but instead he headed for London and the Sea. He carried four shillings and six pence away. Hickson trusted that his relatives would “have compassion” for his mother if he departed abruptly: I walked in a dark night but with a darker mind till almost two o’cock when I reached London – as everybody was in bed, I could get in nowhere, at last I asked a Watchman where I could get to sit until morning, he put me into his box, where I continued almost perished with cold till 3 o’clock when he let me out and shewed me a public house where they were up – I staid there til daylight.

Hickson decided to try his fortune as a sailor. A gentleman advised him to proceed to the Jamaica Inn Coffee House, the favored spot of West Indies sea captains. Here he met a ship’s captain who, on discovering that Hickson could read and write fluently, offered him a birth. Hickson departed without getting the captain’s name.

23 That night Hickson slept in the street in Whitechapel: “my mind was tossed and agitated with such a complication of distress that, as none of those who have felt the like can form any idea of.” The next day he failed in his efforts to find the generous sea captain: I was at length accosted by one of the decoyers of the Indian service, and tho I gave no heed to the many stories he told me, as knowing what he was, yet I began to consider myself about entering the service, my money was almost exhausted and something I had to do immediately. After a second trip to the Jamaica Inn, Hickson sought out the East India Company Crimp and willingly entered the service. Hickson’s letters are written to his neighbor in Surrey, a farmer named Eyre. After becoming a sergeant-major in a Sepoy battalion (8th Carnatic Infantry) he felt he was able to write to his friends without shame. He found military life tolerable and rewarding40. He want most: A companion of a serious disposition; with whom I might feely converse for as to such as I am here among the very sight of what I have here wrote to you, would be sufficient to make me appear to them in the most ridiculous light imaginable, for as to a sincere, virtuous passion they are entirely strangers to, and have no idea of love, abstracted from the grossest sensuality.

The sense of loneliness among his fellow NCO’s was scarcely unusual for a man of moderate refinement. We shall see it recur among several of our writers. William Surtees was born on the 4th of August 1781 in the village of Corbridge, Northumberland. His parents: “may be said to have been among the middle classes, my father being a tradesman. They gave me such an education as was customary to people in their station in life; . reading, writing and arithmetic.” Surtees would later undergo a religious conversion, but he rejected his mother’s early efforts to instill piety within him. He describes himself as: “being naturally of a sensuous and wicked disposition, I, as might be expected, spent a dissolute youth.” In addition to these tendencies (and possibly as a corollary to them), Surtees: ‘having from my infancy a great predilection for military life, I embraced almost the first opportunity that offered, after I became sufficiently grown, to entering into the militia of my native county.” This was on November 15, 1798. Surtees hoped to eventually enlist in a Line Regiment and used the militia as a test to see if he was well-suited to a military life. His parents were deeply unhappy, even ashamed of their son’s enlistment. They were hardly unique in their distaste: I would remark that the life of a soldier was by no means considered in my native village, at that time, at all creditable; and when I sometimes in my boyhood used to exhibit symptoms of military inclination, I was often taunted with the then opprobrious expression, ‘Ay, thou likes the smell of poother,’ intimating thereby that I was likely to disgrace myself by going for a soldier. In the face of parental and community disfavor Surtees pursued his conscious goal of a martial career. Militia service proved amenable and Surtees soon decided to become a Regular. An opportunity came in July 1799. At this time an expedition under the command of the

40 “…a situation which would be very agreeable to me were it not for having left everything dear in life.” Samuel Hickson’s Letters. British Library MSS European B 296/1

24 Duke of York was being prepared to descend on Holland and militiamen were allowed to enlist in the Line. Surtees entered the 56th Regiment. Or, more precisely: “the skeleton of our regiment, just then returned from the West Indies, where twice, during the war, it had nearly been exterminated by disease.” The 56th had to be swiftly reconstituted almost entirely by new recruits. Surtees was selected for the Regiment’s Light Company, a distinction which planted the seed of his later enlistment in the 95th Rifles. Surtees describes the 56th’s discipline at this period as “far from good.” The campaign in Holland would tax the hastily re-assembled battalion beyond its limits. Surtees’ introduction to battle came at Egmont-op-zee. The sight of a wounded Russian jaeger made him introspective. He prayed as the 56th advanced to contact the French, an eventuality “which would infallibly prove what every man, boaster or not was made of.” In the event the raw troops attacked enthusiastically but were put to flight by a French counter-attack. Fortunately, the 23rd Welsh Fusiliers, a Regiment containing a high proportion of veterans, managed to come to their aid. The 56th broke contact with the French and reformed as the battle ended with the Allies in control of the field. However, the victory was not exploited and the campaign ended with the evacuation of the British army. After the evacuation the 56th were sent to Ireland. They were still stationed there when the apparently brought the War to an end. Surtees and the other militia recruits were now afforded the opportunity to be demobilized. He seriously considered the offer seeing little hope for promotion and wishing to reconcile with his parents. However, Surtees encountered a green-jacketed party of Riflemen from what was then called the Experimental Corps (later the 95th). Their effect on him was remarkable: I cannot account for the impulse with which I was urged on, from the moment I had seen one of the men, to enter this corps. Something strange seemed to push me on, contrary to the full determination to return home, which had possessed me an hour before. I will not attempt to account for it, but such was the fact. I immediately gave in my name as a volunteer for the Rifle Corps…in which I have ever considered it an honor to serve, and which I have reason to thank a kind and over-ruling Providence I ever entered.

The appeal of the new corps to an enthusiastic soldier was great and as we shall see it produced a remarkable number of written narratives from individuals serving in its ranks. Riflemen were trained to fight as individuals and their system of discipline was far less rigid than those of other regiments. Surtees himself remained in the 95th until 1826 when he retired as Quartermaster. Benjamin Harris was the son of a Dorsetshire shepherd. He grew up attending to his father’s flock and also learned “the art of making shoes.41” In 1802 he was chosen to enter the short-lived Army of the Reserve. This was an unsuccessful scheme to link Line regiments with the militia by raising Second Battalions of regular regiments purely for service in Great Britain. Harris served in the 2nd/66th Regiment. He was an unenthusiastic recruit: (I) was obliged to leave my father without an assistant to collect his flocks, just as he was beginning more than ever to require one; nay indeed I may say to want

41 Benjamin Harris. The Recollections of Harris. (Hamden: 1970) vi.

25 tending and looking after himself, for old age and infirmity were coming upon him…However, as I had no choice in the matter, it was quite as well that I did not grieve over my fate42. Harris’ father attempted to get the unwilling recruit exempted by claiming he had a crippled hand and required his son’s aid. The recruiting sergeant ignored this entreaty. Harris soon gained the reputation of a steady and reliable soldier. And as a “reward” he was chosen to serve in a firing party assigned to execute a bounty jumper from the 70th Regiment. Harris recollected of this: “I felt that I would have given a good round sum (had I possessed it) to have been in any situation rather than in the one in which I now found myself.43” However, Harris steeled himself and performed the ‘duty.’ Ironically, the General officer who presided over this execution, General Whitelocke, would be court-martialed and disgraced five years later; a fact Harris recalled with some relish. Harris remained in the 2nd/66th when it was ordered to Ireland44. He was stationed in Dublin as part of a composite battalion formed of Army of the Reserve Light Companies. Fate now took a hand: Whilst in Dublin, I one day saw a corps of the 95th Rifles, and fell so in love with their smart, dashing and devil-may-care appearance, that nothing would serve me till I was a Rifleman myself; so, on arriving at Casel one day, and falling in with a recruiting party of that regiment, I volunteered…This recruiting party were all Irishmen sent…to collect men from the Irish Militia…I think they were as reckless and devil-may-care a set of men as I ever beheld, either before or since45. Harris marched 13 miles to Clonmel with the Green-jackets and a recruiting party of the 92nd Highlanders (with a Piper). It was a riotous journey. The proprietor of the Royal Oak public house at Cashel provided the soldiers with two large decanters of whiskey: The piper then struck up, the sergeants flourished their decanters, and the whole route commenced a terrific yell. We then all began to dance, and danced through the town, every now and then stopping for another pull at the whiskey decanters…Such a day, I think, I never spent as I enjoyed with these fellows; and on arriving at Clonmel we were as glorious as any soldiers in all Christendom could be46. This account provides us with a remarkable description of a successful recruiting party47 at work and allows us some insight into the attractive, (deceptively?) festive features of military enlistment. However, after the effects of the whisky wore off the of the recruits notably changed; and soon “a detachment of old Irishwomen48” attempted to free their sons from their new obligations. These ladies dogged the recruiting detachment

42 Ibid 2 43 Ibid 3 44 The liability for service in Ireland by the Army of the Reserve was another reason for its unpopularity with English militiamen. 45 Harris. 5. 46 Ibid. 6 47It is perhaps instructive to compare Harris' account with the instructions given to Recruiting Parties in the Standing Orders of the 85th Light Infantry: “Drunkenness and licentiousness of every sort, by way of getting men, are strictly forbidden, and will not be encouraged by the Officers; it seldom succeeds, and when it does, the object hardly ever compensates for the mischief done to the Party by the means employed in procuring him.” Standing Orders. 146-147. 48 Ibid 7

26 literally to the water’s edge as their sons were destined for a troopship bound for England. Harris, ‘the only Englishman present,” was ordered to keep the women back. He had to literally pull several of them off of their sons and toss them into the water. Only after this were all the recruits ushered on board. Shortly after the Irish recruits were settled aboard ship sectarian squabbles broke out. Again the lone Englishman found himself as a referee. Despite his efforts physical confrontations continued throughout the voyage and on the subsequent march through ; the outnumbered Protestants generally got the worst of it. In Bristol a number of idle townspeople took it upon themselves to reinforce the Protestant recruits and a riot ensued. The Bristol Volunteers were called out and most of the 95th’s recruits were placed under arrest. This did not deter a mob of Papist-hating townsmen who attempted to storm the jail. They were stopped by a threat from the Volunteer’s commander to fire volleys into the crowd. Early the next morning the recruits were freed and surreptitiously marched out of town. Harris, who hadn’t been arrested, now began his career as a Rifleman; already, perhaps, a veteran. James Anton joined a Scottish militia regiment in April 1803. He was accompanied by several other young men from his village. He tells little of his early life. He was raised by his widowed mother and had tried to enlist in the Line at a very young age but had been rejected. The sole domestic detail that he shares with the reader is his mother’s terrible dismay at his choice. Anton recalled: “I was about to take farewell of my poor widowed mother, whose heart was like to break at what, to say the least of it, she considered a very foolish step of her son, and likely to lead to his ruin not only of his soul but of his body also.” Anton provides more detail when describing the childhood of his friend and comrade Huntley, who enlisted at the same time as himself (in the 42nd as well). Huntley’s mother was also a widow who supplemented a small income by teaching village girls to read and knit. Anton recalls that Huntley’s mother might have been “recommended for a small salary (from the parish), for she was a very useful woman in the place.” However, as a religious non-conformist this compensation was denied to her. Mrs. Huntley raised her son as a Presbyterian and hoped to apprentice him to a master weaver. Huntley upset his mother’s plan: (he) was not satisfied with the choice made for him; and whether through a desire of seeing a little more of the world, or getting quit of a sedentary employment, it is needless to inquire; he emancipated himself from one service and bound himself to another Anton and Huntley remained in the militia until 1812. They were stationed in Scotland throughout the period. In 1812 Huntley was made corporal and he and Anton decided to join the Regulars. Huntley remarked: I serve at present secure of life and limb, but with no prospect of future benefit in old age, which I may attain; it is better to hazard both abroad in the regular service, than have poverty and hard labour accompanying me to a peaceful grave at home. Anton concurred in this and both men entered the 42nd (a step which cost a chagrined Huntley his stripe). In August 1813 they embarked for the Peninsula. John Cooper was born on December 17th, 1787 in the village of High Startforth. He was descended from John Wycliffe on his mother’s side. His great-grandfather had owned several estates but: “gambling and other vices reduced him and his family to

27 poverty.” Cooper was a voracious reader as a boy and was familiar with Josephus and the lives of Marlborough, Prince Eugene and other military heroes. In addition, he managed to be well-informed about politics. He read of meetings and of “the Irish Rebellion and the ruined harvest.” At the renewal of the War in 1803 Cooper joined the Volunteers in a fit of patriotic fervor. He recalls: In July 1803, I entered as a fifer, and having got a sword by my side, I made sad havoc of the tall thistles and nettles, slashing their heads off most furiously, trying to imagine them Frenchmen. In June, 1806 Cooper left the Volunteers for the North York Militia. While stationed in Portsmouth he observed several warships that had been damaged the year before at Trafalgar. The sight thrilled him. On August 21, 1807 he joined the 7th . The next year he saw limited active service in Ireland against “croppies;” the Fusiliers were deployed to the Peninsula in 1810. William Wheeler joined the 2nd Royal Surrey Militia in 1808. His earliest letters are lost so little is known of his background.49 We do know that he did not enjoy service in the Militia. Viscount Cranley was the Surrey battalion’s and a great favorite with the soldiers. Unfortunately, the second-in-command, Major Hudson was more intimately involved with the day-to-day business of running the unit. The Major was a terror. He was called Bloody Bob; “This man delighted in torturing the men, every man in the Corps hated him, when once a soldier came under his lash it was no use for any other officer to plead for him.” Ultimately, the Colonel, who was renowned for both his leniency and his eccentricity, brought the Major before a board of review and secured his resignation. Wheeler, however, had by this time decided to enter the Regular service: I have at length escaped from the Militia without being flead (flayed) alive. I have taken the first opportunity and voluntiered with 127 of my comrades into the 51st Light Infantry Regiment. I had made up my mind to voluntier but into what regiment I cared not a straw, so I determined to go with the greatest number.

Wheeler added: “It will be impossible for me to say anything of the (51st) Regiment, that is if it is good or bad, but I rejoice to say I have escaped from the one I left with a whole skin.” Later Wheeler related some of his first impressions of his new Regiment: What a funny drole set of beings the old soldiers of the Regiment are. They are continually relating such marvelous tales of murders, rapes and robberies that would frighten Old Drunk Devil himself if he could hear them. I listen to there tales, with some degree of interest often doubting the truth of the fatigues (?) they seem to delight to relate.

In addition to his introduction to his fellow ‘rankers’ Wheeler describes his first encounter with Lt. Col. Mainwaring. Upon seeing his new recruits the latter declaimed: Here is from England; Sawney from Scotland and Paddy from my own country. By Jesus we will not only beat the French we will eat them afterwards.

The Colonel clearly believed that a battalion drawn from the three nations could be highly formidable and used local patriotism towards a ‘British’ end. And Private

49 The letters were addressed to his parents and preserved by them.

28 Wheeler, as is the case with virtually all the English memorialists, never mentions Scotsmen or Irishmen in the Army without respect and affection. Too young for militia service, Thomas Morris joined the Loyal Volunteers of St. George’s Middlesex in 1812. He was 16 years old. His older brother had already transferred from the into the 2nd/73rd. This was ostensibly a Highland regiment but most of its number in 1813 were English and Irish50. Morris was an enthusiastic Volunteer, but in keeping with the caustic of his memoir, he describes the desperate methods used by many of his neighbors to avoid Militia service. Morris recalls: “As much as sixty pounds has been paid for a substitute in the Militia.51” And a number of his fellow in the Volunteers had only enlisted to avoid the more severe discipline of the Militia. Not so with Morris: I was particularly fond of reading the heart-stirring accounts of sieges and battles; and the glorious achievements of the British troops in Spain, following each other in rapid succession, created in me an irrepressible desire for military service; so as the first step towards it, I became a Volunteer, and, oh! How proud did I feel when having gone through my course in drill, I was permitted to join the ranks52.

The Volunteers were stationed in the Tower very near the 2nd/73rd and Morris’ brother. However, despite this incitement to enlist Morris’ martial ardor was somewhat dampened by the appearance of an Invalid battalion. The Colonel of the Invalids was exceptionally severe and his charges were subject to numerous floggings. Morris records that “remonstrances from the public, through the press;…led to the removal of the Colonel.” But Morris: “felt somewhat less disposed to hazard life and limb, in a service, with the probability of being repaid with such gross inhumanity and ingratitude.53” Shortly after this the 2nd/73rd were ordered to Harwich for embarkation to the Continent. Morris immediately decided to join the Regiment but was forbidden by his brother. After the battalion departed Morris decided to enlist despite his brother’s objections. He met a veteran returning from furlough on his way to Harwich and; “After a restless night, produced by the anxiety and distress which I knew my sudden departure would cause my parents, I left about 4 o’clock in the morning.54” Morris had some difficulty in enlisting in his brother’s battalion. He had to appeal to Major Dawson Kelly commanding the Reserve Depot at Colchester for assistance; the latter agreed that Morris be allowed to join the unit of his choice. Morris lied about his age so as to be able to enlist in a regular battalion on active service55, claiming he was 18. Shortly afterwards he made his departure for Flanders.

50 WO 27/113 51 Morris 2 52 Ibid 2 53 Ibid 4-5 54 Ibid. 5 55 Boy soldiers were frequently enlisted in the British army, but aside from drummers and bandsmen, they generally did not accompany battalions to war. “…certain Regiments of the Line not stationed in the East Indies” could “enlist Boys of five Feet in height” Circular of May 28th, 1812 WO 30/85. A War Office “Memorandum relative to Boy Recruits” of Feb. 10th, 1813 stated that boys “are in no case to be sent to the West Indies or to join a Battalion employed on active service until they are equal in every respect to the performance of their duty as soldiers.” The memorandum recommends the “Utmost kindness and Lenity” be shown boy soldiers and that each regiment that enlists boys should be provided with short fuzils for

29 George Calladine was born on February 24, 1793 in Leicester. His father was a gardener who died young leaving Calladine’s mother and family impoverished. Calladine, his mother and younger brother were compelled to reside with the vicar of the parish of Kempstone before moving to the town of Melbourne in Derbyshire. Calladine worked as a farm laborer before becoming an apprentice to a framework knitter at the age of 13. Calladine described this as a “very clean and comfortable business,”: one at which he was soon earning 12 shillings per week. He was an apprentice for three years, eventually earning 4 shillings a day. According to Calladine his financial success was his undoing. He became “almost independent of his master” and was “idle.” This led him to “bad company” and gave him “a notion of rambling.” Calladine first ran away from his master on Michaelmas, 1808. He roamed about working at several different jobs before returning to his master in October, 1809. There was surprisingly little resentment on the latter’s part: There is one thing certain, that no apprentice could have wished for a better place; my master and his son and daughter…were very steady and religious, being members of the Methodist Society, and they gave all the encouragement in their power for their apprentices to become like themselves…I was obliged to attend Sunday scholl at the Chapel, and, I hope, imbibed some principles there; although I have never followed them up…No young man might have been happier than myself, but I still had an inclination for roving, so it came into my mind to enlist for a soldier.

On February 3, 1810 Calladine enlisted in the Derbyshire Militia. Two of Calladine’s brothers were already serving in this unit. Calladine returned to Melbourne several weeks later to see his mother; “the poor woman received me with tears in her eyes. I knew I had done wrong in going for a soldier, if it had been on no other account than on grieving her.” Calladine enjoyed life in the Militia, although he clashed with his older brother over the question of bounty money. Robert Calladine was a sergeant and felt obliged to hold onto his younger brother’s earnings. The latter only received his money in 1812, after threatening to join the Regulars if he was not trusted with it. Shortly afterward Calladine volunteered for service with the English militia in Ireland56: “Both my brothers told me it was not their intention of volunteering but I did not mean to let two guineas (which was the bounty we were to receive) go by me in that way, and that I should volunteer, let them do as they would.” Eventually, Calladine’s Colonel managed to persuade most of the Regiment to volunteer. However, the Militia did not go to Ireland despite receiving the bounty. Instead they were sent to England’s south coast. While on detachment in the town of Hythe Calladine spent all his bounty in a raucous three day spree, “drinking and eating of the best.” While stationed in Dover Calladine finally decided to escape the influence of his brothers by entering a Line Regiment. He joined the 19th because they were stationed in Ceylon (Calladine’s was

training in place of heavier . WO 30/85. A notable exception to these practices of gradually deploying boy soldiers is described below in the account of John Shipp. 56 It was common practice to deploy English Militia to Ireland and Irish Militia to England. In 1812 fully a third of the latter force was stationed on English soil. However, as militiamen could not be constrained to serve outside their own kingdom, bounties had to be paid to volunteers willing to serve “abroad.”

30 indeed a wandering disposition) and because the march from Dover to the 19th’s depot in Yorkshire would take him across most of England. Calladine recalls: I had much to do to persuade my brothers to allow me to volunteer, till I tolkd my brother Robert if he did not allow me to go, I should never do ant more good in the regiment, and at las6 I was sworn in.

In a surprising display of circumspection, Calladine enlisted for 7 years rather 21. Edward Costello was born on October 26, 1788 in the town of Mount Mellick, Queen’s County Ireland. At an early age he was made apprentice to a cabinet-maker. However, “urged by a roving and restless spirit, I soon got tired of my occupation, which I left one morning early ‘without beat of drum’.” Costello then lived with his uncle, a shoemaker. Here he made an important acquaintance: Among these was an old soldier, who had lost a leg, fighting under Sir , in Egypt. From this old blade, I think it was, I first acquired that martial ardour that so frequently infects young men in time of war. There was, indeed, no resisting the old pensioner’s description of glory. I became red-hot for a soldier’s life, and although rejected as too young for the regulars, I ‘listed,’ as it is technically called in the Dublin Militia on the 17th of June 1806.

The next year Costello joined the 95th Rifles in Londonderry. The 95th were a new experimental regiment armed with the Baker rifle and trained to fight as individuals. Costello recollected: “I must say I felt highly delighted with the smart appearance of the men, as well as with their green uniforms.” Costello’s first duty was to join a recruiting party for the 95th in Dublin. This was a hazardous assignment as each soldier’s shilling a day soon vanished in the grog-shops of Dublin. Costello was quite a successful recruiter. He recalled one exchange with a potential ‘Johnny Raw:’ “’I say green boy,’ said he, ‘do you belong to the Croppies? Damn me, but I like your dress. What bounty do you give?’ ’18 guineas,’ replied I. ‘Come then,’ said he, ‘tip us a shilling. I’m your man.’” Before joining the main body of his Regiment in England, Costello had a daunting adventure in Liverpool. He and a fellow Rifleman named Wilkie were obliged to take lodging in a cellar overnight before departing the city. In the middle of the night they were: “awoke by the bright glare of a bull’s eye lantern staring me full in the face, and some five or six rough sailors all armed to the teeth standing before us. Out of uniform the two soldiers were hustled out of the cellar and down to a ship’s tender. They spent the night on a warship. The next day they were examined by an officer who, noting their sea- sickness, decided they must indeed be soldiers and returned them to their sergeant. Soon Costello was on his way to the Peninsula. The next six veterans of the War against Napoleon whose enlistment experiences we are going to focus upon joined the regular army directly. They are a rather disparate group whose numbers include an actor, an unsuccessful poacher and a victim of the ‘Crimps.” Four of the men were English and two were Scots. Andrew Pearson was born on April 29, 1783 in East Thornton, Northumberland. Pearson’s father was a herdsman in the employ of a wealthy farmer. When Pearson was four his father ruptured a blood vessel in his brain while lifting up an overturned horse- cart. He was crippled by this accident and died soon afterward. The family possessed some savings and Pearson’s mother rented a small cottage in Hollywell. She set up a day

31 school for local children and worked nights as a washerwoman. His mother taught Pearson read, write and do arithmetic. She kept the family together until Andrew was old enough to be apprenticed. His master was a weaver, John Harper of Huntley. Harper was “afflicted with a most violent temper, which too often brought him into trouble.” Pearson was his apprentice for four years before Harper’s outbursts became intolerable. Pearson ruined an expensive selvedge (the edge of a piece of cloth) and Harper struck him on the face; “My proud spirit would not bear such treatment, and I sprang from my seat, and seizing my jacket, left the workshop, and set off for North Shields in search of a ship.” As we shall see, Pearson was not the only one of our subjects to aspire to a career at see before joining the land forces. Pearson signed on a ship bound for Cork. On arriving in Ireland Pearson and another young seaman named James Henderson decided to do some sight-seeing. Unfortunately this led them to a public house where they ran into a party of “crimps.” Pearson had no idea who these men were; noting only their unusual friendliness. One of them said to the bar-maid: “I will pay for these young men.” Pearson was grateful for this largesse and he and Henderson drank with the strangers. As might be imagined, Pearson’s recollections of what happened next are unclear. He did recall “seeing one of the men putting something into my companion’s glass.” After that all he remembered was waking up between two soldiers at the fort of Duncannon. He never saw Henderson again and assumed he was either “given” to another regiment or else had been “murdered in the scuffle” at the public house. Pearson was more concerned with his own problems. He was kept isolated in Duncannon for several days and then sent to a large compound at New Geneva. There were 2000 prisoners here, most of them captured Irish rebels sentenced to serve abroad as a punishment. Pearson was among a handful of impressed men mixed with the Irish prisoners. Nearly all agreed to enlist. Pearson, however, steadfastly refused although this did not prevent his being force-marched out of the camp with a thousand others. They eventually were transported to Chatham in Southern England. Here Pearson managed to lodge a complaint with the governor of the port, Sir George Hewitt and then secured an interview. Hewitt was un-swayed: “O! never mind, I will send you to my own regiment, the 61st, now lying in the East Indies; and here is 5 pounds bounty for you, and you will be attested.” Pearson refused to accept the bounty and remained unattested. This did not prevent him from being marched to a transport ship and placed among a draft of replacements destined for and India. Once aboard the draft was inspected by General Whitelocke (see Harris’ account above). Pearson complained to the General: “He heard my tale, and hoaxed me by stating that on his going ashore he would send an order for my release.” Soon after the General went ashore the ship began its voyage with nothing further said. Pearson, however, was still a civilian having doggedly refused to sign any attestation papers. This remarkable state of affairs continued until the transport was forced by rough weather to land at the Cape of Good Hope. Here the replacement drafts were deployed on emergency service: “the Caffres were killing Dutch boors and driving off their cattle.” Pearson refused to serve and was brought for an interview with Sir Francis Dundas, commander of all British forces in South Africa. Dundas was sympathetic and consulted with the Colonel

32 commanding Pearson’s composite unit. They both invited Pearson to the Colonel’s quarters. Here: Sir Francis stated that it was shameful to trap young boys in the way I had been; but as I could not be sent home, owing to the great expense, he would alleviate my sorrow by promoting me to the rank of corporal, and if I behaved myself I should soon obtain further promotion. Pearson finally acquiesced, attested and officially began his military career. Daniel Nicol was born in Crossford, Lanarkshire. His grandfather was a tenant of Lord Lockhart of Lee. Despite an impoverished childhood he managed to receive an education at a Presbyterian church-funded school; he quite was familiar with a number of Latin phrases. Little else can be ascertained concerning his background. His memoir commences with the departure of his regiment, the 92nd Highlanders, for Egypt. However, the circumstances of his enlistment are known: Young Nicol was caught by Lord Douglas’ gamekeeper while poaching in the Clyde, and was to have been brought before the sheriff in Lanark. To avoid this exposure he made his way to Edinburgh and enlisted on the 12th of March 1794 in the regiment of Highlanders then being raised by the Marquis of Huntley.

Nicol’s new regiment was of a truly Highland character, 715 out of 760 being Gaelic speakers. Despite the embarrassing circumstances of his enlistment Nicol prospered and was an NCO at the time of the Egyptian campaign. As we shall see in Chapter 5 he proved an exceptionally loyal soldier. The remarkable life of John Shipp, the only British soldier of his era to earn TWO commissions from the ranks, began on March 16, 1785, in Saxmundham, Sussex. Shipp’s father was a soldier; his mother died when he was an infant.57 The father was stationed in India for over a decade and had no contact with his family other than occasional, modest remittances sent from the East. This circumstance left Shipp and his brother in the village poorhouse. When Shipp was nine, his fourteen year old brother was pressed into the Navy. Actually: “he required little pressing, but gladly availed himself of the chance to escape from bondage by becoming a volunteer in the service of his country.” Shipp never saw his brother again. Shipp describes himself as “naturally a wild dog of an active, unconquerable spirit.” He passed his time “in a pretty even routine of planning and executing mischief, and receiving its rewards.” This situation changed: One autumn morning in the year 1794, while I was playing marbles in a lane called love Lane, the shrill notes of a , and the hollow sound of a distant drum, struck my active ear. Shipp ran to the village marketplace to see a Royal Artillery recruiting party. He was particularly struck by the “pretty, little, well-dressed Fifer.” This youngster was “little bigger than the drum he stood by.” Shipp recalled thinking: “Surely, I am as tall, if not taller, than this little blade, and would make as good a soldier.” Shipp approached the recruiting party and joined in the general revelry. At one point three cheers were called for “the King, God Bless Him.” Shipp joined in and became so caught up that he was shouting cheers after the rest of the crowd had quieted down. This brought him to the

57 John Shipp. The Paths of Glory. (London: 1969). 1. When a battalion was routed overseas six wives were permitted to accompany each company of soldiers. There are 100 soldiers in a full strength company.

33 attention of the recruiting sergeant. Shipp asked him if he “would take I for a soldier?” The sergeant was enthusiastic but the fifer responded less pleasantly. When Shipp proclaimed that he was taller and more suitable than this worthy, the latter: “flew at me, kicking and punching.” Shipp had to retreat from the marketplace. However, “from that day onwards a soldier’s life was in all my thoughts, and in all my .” Shipp was shortly afterwards sent from the poorhouse to work for a local farmer. Shipp described this person as “having a heart as cold as the frost that killed his crops.” He was also quick to resort to the whip; “a day seldom passed without a thrashing.” Shipp’s free-time was consumed with thoughts of escaping and joining the Army. Once a party of soldiers passed near the farm and Shipp ran out to meet them. He stood rigidly at attention, saluted and was rewarded with the remark “that’s a fine fellow” from the commanding officer. Shipp would have gone off then and there but his master arrived on the scene. A chase began. Shipp feared that his master would “kill me when he caught me,” and resolved on a permanent departure. He managed to hide near the farm until he spied the farmer’s wife, “who was always willing to play the part of kind mother with me.” She was alone. He approached her and she gave him food. He now resolved to catch up with the soldiers. He walked 16 miles to the town of Beccles where he found the Colonel who had praised him. The interview began promisingly. Shipp was asked: “Well my little rustic what is your pleasure?” He responded: “Soldiering, your Honour.” This drew laughter from all the Officers present. Their unit was headed for a port of embarkation for India and they could not take in any boy recruits. Shipp began to cry on learning this and received considerable sympathy from the Officers. Shipp was given fifteen shillings (“more money than I had ever possessed before in my life”) and a note to his master exonerating the fugitive of any wrong-doing. A sergeant was assigned to drop Shipp off at the farm and make sure the farmer read the note. Shipp’s master received his military visitor with some deference but the next day administered the worst beating Shipp had yet endured. “I have no hesitation in saying that he would have killed me, if a man who happened to be working in a neighboring field had not interfered to save my life.” In 1797 fate finally smiled on John Shipp; “it was decided to form three experimental regiments, which were each to take one thousand boys, off the hands of the parish authorities.”58 One of the parish authorities in Saxmundham must have thought of Shipp for soon he was off to become a soldier. Shipp departed feeling he “would not have changed places with the Grand Pasha of Egypt or the King of England himself.” He was dispatched by coach to Colchester where he became a fifer in the band of the 22nd

58 The 9th, 16th, 22nd, 34th and 56th regiments took part in this experiment. Each had been devastated by losses sustained in the West Indies. The boys were aged 10 to 14. The experiment was successful enough that other regiments were allowed to keep 10 boys on the establishment per company. A 1796 circular attempts to set a height requirement of five feet one inch (All healthy lads under sixteen years of Age, who are likely to grow, may be taken as low as five feet one inch”) but this was generally ignored. The smallest boy recorded among the enlistees of the 8th (King’s) Regiment was four feet four inches tall. WO 67/7. The Standing Orders of the 85th Light Infantry assert a positive preference for boy recruits: 'every thing may be hoped for from boys, whose disposition and mind not being thoroughly formed, is capable of receiving any turn that might be given to it...(the commanding officer) is almost indifferent as to their age and size provided they have the appearance of further growth.” Lt. Col. Thornton further expresses a preference for boys with some schooling as this keeps boys “out of the way of being bred up insolent, idolent or idle fellows.”

34 Regiment59. Despite an attempt by his fellow poorhouse-spawned bandsmen to steal his clothes, Shipp came to love army life. He quickly became the favorite of the Regimental Drum-Major and was assigned to varied and interesting duties. He would never regret having gone for a soldier. John Green was born in Nottingham on June 15, 1790. His father died when he was four years old. Green was apprenticed out to a carpet manufacturer by his grandfather in 1803. In May 1806 he: Left Mr. Foggity, at whose house I had a very good home, but where I in vain tried to settle, having a disposition to wander, which left me no rest until it was gratified.

Green fled from his apprenticeship on the spur of the moment, without informing his grandfather, who was “very much grieved.” He proceeded to Hull, the residence of his godfather. Here he sought lodging in a public house but was ejected upon his admission that he was a runaway apprentice. Green then went out to the docks in “hopes of getting employment on board some of the vessels.” Green signed aboard the “Anne,” a privateer mounting 14 guns. His shipmates regaled him with tales of the riches to be had by taking Dutch East Indiamen, and other merchant vessels. Unfortunately, he soon became acquainted with the dangers of nautical life. He witnessed a terrible accident in which one of the ship’s boats “fell upon the back of the head of one of the prizemasters, forced his chin on to the edge of the other boat, and deprived him instantaneously of life.” This incident convinced Green of the need to find his godfather before making any irrevocable decisions about his future. However, he soon learned that his godfather’s son and his own uncle were signed aboard the “Anne.” He resolved to join the ship’s company. The “Anne” had any eventful cruise. Green was ordered to climb the mast during a severe storm: “None but those who have experienced these things can imagine what I felt on this occasion.” Yet Green persevered and soon the “dangers and difficulties became familiar” to him. The “Anne” captured a Danish merchantman but was then quarantined in port on her return to Hull. During this time her Captain became indisposed due to gout and her letter of marque expired. Green decided to return to his Master, Mr. Foggity. However, after six weeks he escaped again “in consequence of a reprimand” from his employer. Green was now formally freed from his troublesome apprenticeship; several of his friends “said they were sure I should soon become a soldier,” although Green felt no such inclination. Instead he set out for searching for work. He chose to travel by carriage although he lacked money for the fare. The cost of the trip came out to be a slash across the face with a riding crop from an irate coachman. In Leeds Green managed to secure employment at another carpet manufactory. While on an errand for his employer: I overtook a soldier belonging to the Royal Train of Artillery, who looked at me steadfastly and proposed the question, Whether I would enlist? I answered, No: for I had no inclination whatever to enlist. But he still pressed the point, until I consented, when he gave me a shilling, and enlisted me to serve his majesty George III.

59 Most of the boys enlisted did not become bandsmen. They were trained to eventually serve as infantrymen: “They are to be enlisted as privates without any hope being held out to them that they are to employed and paid as drummers.”

35 The artilleryman took the feckless recruit to be examined by a surgeon before being enlisted in the 68th (newly returned from the Caribbean and no more than 100 strong; 2400 men who served in the regiment had died or been invalided out during its long service abroad). Green stood only 5 feet one inch, four inches less than the minimum, but the doctor decided that he might yet grow. The local magistrate offered Green a last chance to alter his decision: “if you do not wish to go I will set you free.” However, Green was now “so strongly bent upon going for a soldier,” that he turned down the offer. Green believed that the experience had finally provided him with focus and he freely chose to serve: “for I loved old England, and I am sure with good reason, as by experience I know there is no better country in the world.” William Lawrence was born in the village of Bryant’s Piddle in Dorsetshire in 1791. He was one of seven children. His father was a tenant farmer who’d been evicted and was reduced to work as an agricultural laborer. Lawrence had little education and was put to work on the land at the age of seven. At fourteen he was apprenticed to a builder named Henry Bush. Bush was “difficult to please” and stingily rationed out Lawrence’s food. Lawrence soon disliked him intensely. After nine months service Lawrence missed a day’s work through wandering around town on a Sunday afternoon. His master whipped him for this transgression. Lawrence responded angrily: “this is the last thrashing I will receive at your hands.” He and another similarly abused apprentice decided to escape. Lawrence wrote of his decision that it was: “my master’s want of kindness that forced me into a very different sort of life to that which my parents intended for me.” Lawrence’s adventures continued to be worthy of a Dickens hero. He and his companion went from town to town in search of work, often having to beg for food. Eventually Lawrence sought to become a merchant sailor. However, once on board a vessel he was identified as a runaway apprentice and had to flee once more. Lawrence soon found himself in Dorchester, eight miles from his place of birth. Here he: Wandered through and through the town, watching preparations for the fair, which was to take place the next day, not being able to make up my mind what to do or where to go. Lawrence met an ostler who provided him with food and a stable to sleep in return for work. The next day he and the ostler encountered some soldiers while walking through town. Lawrence now announced that he would like to become a soldier. His employer directed the young man to a public house where a sergeant of the Royal Artillery was recruiting (the ostler was compensated with two pounds from the sergeant). Lawrence was very small, well under the height restriction, but this didn’t deter the sergeant. Soon Lawrence was wrapped in a veteran’s redcoat and marched through the town (from public house to public house) along with some other young recruits. At this instant fate took a hand. Two friends of Lawrence’s parents observed him. He bought each of them a gallon of ale with his enlistment bounty money in return for their silence. This proved to be a futile gesture; Lawrence’s parents arrived the next day demanding their son’s release from the Army. There were some obstacles; Lawrence had spent all but 17 shillings of his five pound bounty in one night. He was brought before a magistrate who gave him a choice of returning to his master or going to prison. Reluctantly, Lawrence chose the former option. However, before returning home, the Royal Artillery recruiting sergeant told Lawrence that the he might still join the army if

36 his master rejected him. The next day Lawrence had not ventured far from Dorchester when he came upon another public house. Here he met a soldier of the 40th Regiment. The soldier was on furlough and he advised Lawrence to remain with him until he rejoined his regiment. This Lawrence decided to do. Eventually Lawrence was presented to the 40th recruiting officer as an unattached agricultural laborer and enlisted. He was at last “freed from his pursuers,” but had to wonder if he had not “got from the frying to the frier.” Thomas Howell’s memoir “A Soldier of the Seventy-First” was published anonymously in 1819. Its author’s identity was only confirmed recently. He was an unusual individual to become a private soldier. Howell was born in Edinburgh in 1790. His parents were “poor but respectable” people who hoped to see their son in one of the learned professions.” Howell received a decent education thanks to his parents’ considerable efforts. His three siblings received virtually no education at all. Both of his brothers had to work. His father was an invalid who received six shillings a week from a Christian benefit society. Howell described himself: “I alone was a gentleman in a house of poverty.” Howell’s fellow students were all wealthier than himself and he resented them. At the age of sixteen Howell left school with the avowed intention of becoming an actor. He succeeded in obtaining an audition in an Edinburgh theater and was successful. “Tall and well made, of a genteel appearance and address,” Howell seemed promising material. Unfortunately he froze on stage: I trembled…A cold sweat oozed through every pore; my father’s and mother’s words rung in my ears; my senses became confused; hisses began from the ; I utterly failed…I shrank unseen from the theatre, bewildered and in a state of despair. I wandered the whole night. In the morning early, meeting a party of recruits about to embark I rashly offered to go with them. My offer was accepted… Howell found Army life to be daunting and brutalizing: How different was my situation from what it had been…I who had never been crossed at home, I who never knew fatigue, was now fainting under it…I could not associate with the common soldiers; their habits made me shudder. I feared an oath – they never spoke without one: I could not drink – they loved liquor: They gamed – I knew nothing of play. Thus I was a solitary individual among hundreds. They lost no opportunity of teasing me. “Saucy Tom,” or “The distressed Methodist,” were the names they distinguished me by. This state of affairs persisted until Howell turned on one of his tormentors. He called out a man who had placed a “fool’s cap” on his head. “Clear the room; a ring, a ring, - the Methodist is going to fight.” One blow was all Howell needed to floor his smaller adversary: From this time on I was no longer insulted; and I became much esteemed among my fellow-soldiers, who before despised me. Still, I could not associate with them. Their pleasures were repugnant to my feelings. Howell’s memoir provides the only instance of a true “gentleman ranker” encountered in this study. And his status is a result of his education rather than his birth. Personal accounts of individuals serving in the ranks are far less common for the period after 1815 than they are for the Peninsular era. The army was maintained at no more than a third of its wartime strength and, perhaps, the termination of the ordeals of

37 the French wars discouraged the desire for heroic self-expression. However, a number of memorials do exist and they serve to provide some notion of the motivations of enlistees in the post-war army. A single letter survives from -Corporal William Higgins of the 46th Regiment60 but it poignantly reminds the reader of the importance of personal motivations for enlisting in the Army for life: At some distance from Churt there lived a farmer who had one daughter and your Humble Servant had the Misfortune to form a Particular Acquaintance with this Female, I am well aware with respect to our rank in life, she was far superior to to me, for I dare say her father was worth Thousands when my father laboured hard to maintain himself , but not with standing the contrast that appeared betwixt our parents…we kept company with each other for some time before her parents became acquainted with our attachment61.

The girl’s father offered Higgins a job if he would “never be seen with his daughter anymore.” Instead he continued to meet Elizabeth surreptitiously. Finally she suggested they run away to America, for her father “intends to procede to some severe means if others won’t do.” Higgins felt that the girl’s father was “not wrong” in wishing to see them parted but he “was in love to distraction.” Higgins agreed to elope. However, on the agreed date he received a note from the girl’s father inviting him to the farm. Higgins accepted the ominous invitation. Elizabeth’s plan was discovered and she was to be sent away. He was allowed to see her one last time “and I think if I had as many shillings as we shed tears I might venture to live on the interest of my property.” Higgins now underwent a collapse retiring to his bed and refusing to eat. He was nursed by a neighbor lady, Miss Sarah Milthorp62. He enlisted in the 46th on his return to health. While stationed in India he received news of Elizabeth’s death and received an offer from her father. The old man was willing to buy Higgins out of the Army: but I told him he never should do it…And all I have to do is to Distinguish myself as a Hero for my King and Country; all that I pray for now is to have the Honour of being slain in that Act of Defending the Cause of my King and Country. I am even now promoted to the rank of Corporal for my good conduct63.

60 Dated June 29, 1824 – written at Camp Belgaum, Central India. National Army Museum manuscript 6810-20-2 61 Ibid. Samuel West entered the 16th Lancers two years before Higgins joined the 46th. His letters to his mother are less explicit in detailing the circumstances that led to his enlistment; leaving home “in a curious manner and not a dutiful one.” West’s first letter doesn’t mention the name of the “Dear Girl” merely regretting that “I have so managed it that I cannot stay so neigh her.” West then writes “I must now undergo all the hardships of a private soldier – and you must now despair of ever seeing me I think for ever for the climate will kill or cure me.” He ends the missive by imploring his mother’s forgiveness. West served three years in India before his mother succeeded in raising twenty pound to “buy him out” NAM manuscript 9604-220-2 62 “I expect that our Regiment will come home in 3 or 4 years more and then I will have the opportunity of returning her thanks personally.” NAM 6810-20-2 63 Samuel West whose motivations for enlistment were as idiosyncratically personal as Higgins’ expressed similar patriotic feelings in a letter to his mother describing the capture of the great Mahratta fortress of Bhurtpore in 1825 – “that day the British made the proud Bharatpureans yield…the pride and terror of India is now cut down.”

38 And there the letter ends. Higgins’ embrace of the service and its highest ideals in the face of personal adversity reminds the reader of the difficulty of drawing general conclusions about any individual’s motivations. Alexander Somerville was born on the 15th of March 1811 in the town of Springfield in Lothian, Scotland64. His father was an agricultural laborer and so was he. However, Somerville attended a Kirk school and could read and write well by the age of fourteen. That year his father took him from school and sent him into the fields as a full- time laborer. This experience created a resolve to escape and he fled to Berwick. Somerville’s brother was serving in the Royal Artillery and he considered enlisting but decided he was too young to be accepted. Instead he performed various odd jobs before returning to agricultural work. He acquired skills as a wood-sawyer and a stone-mason while living a transient existence. Somerville continued to read voraciously and carried books and periodicals out to the fields during the grain harvest. In 1831 Somerville lost his job as a stone-mason following a dispute with his employer and he was robbed of all of his savings while attending a fair. He now resolved on a military career. He was accompanied by a fellow laborer named William Niven who pursued a similar ambition. Initially Somerville considered the Royal Artillery, “for there, the chances of advancement and the pay are superior.” However, he finally decided upon the Greys: In Scotland, young men smitten with military ambition, and gifted with not less than 5 feet ten inches of upright bulk, talk vauntingly of the grey horses, their long white tails, the scarlet coats, the long swords, the high caps and the plumes of white feathers encircling them in front, the blue over-alls with the long yellow stripes on the outside, the boots and spurs…and in the wet or the wintry wind, the long scarlet cloaks flowing from the riders necks to their knees…65

And beyond the sartorial inducements lay the Regiment’s history. The charge of the Union Brigade at Waterloo was a by-word for Scottish valor: “Napoleon’s columns broken by the charge, their charge, with Napoleon exiled and Europe at peace!” In retrospect Somerville understood that the Greys had not accomplished this feat on their own; and in addition that they could not have won all of Lord “Walington’s” battles “as they were not in the Peninsula” at all. However, at the time there was only “the charm of the Greys being Scottish, with their fame for deeds of gallantry.” He renounced all thought of the Royal Artillery, or even entry into an English or Irish regiment “where there were few men who could write” and “there was a much better chance at promotion.” Somerville’s actual enlistment experience helps to substantiate the relatively satisfactory nature of the army’s manpower situation after 1815. He and Niven sought out a Corporal of the Greys at the latter’s own home. From his appearance there was “a hint that the corporal had been lying in bed half the day, when he should have been out looking for recruits.” He had to be re-assured that the two neophytes actually “meant it” when they offered to enlist. Finally he began to administer the oath: “Are you free, able and willing to serve his Majesty King William the Fourth?” when he recalled that there was only one shilling in the house. And each recruit had to receive some part of his

64 Alexander Somerville. The Autobiography of a Working Man.(Great Turnstile: 1951) vii-xiv. 65 Ibid. 115

39 bounty upon enlistment. Somerville agreed to share the coin but the corporal’s wife insisted “That would not be law; and a bonny thing it would be to do it without it being law. Na, na, it maun be done as the law directs.” This lady (whom Somerville describes as an “older soldier” than husband) now locked all three men in the flat and, fearing another recruiting party might yet “share the prize” went in search of a coin. When she returned Somerville and Niven were sworn in. On the next day Somerville underwent a medical examination that was by no means cursory: I was taken before the garrison surgeon in Edinburgh Castle…I was called in first and stripped naked, and examined carefully as to the soundness of the internal system, the limbs and the eyesight. I was ordered to walk fast and slow, and to put my body into different positions of difficulty. The result of all was, a certificate declaring me fit for service.

Niven was rejected for the Greys after a similar examination;66 although he later successfully enlisted in the Foot Guards. Somerville now embarked on the path that would (as we shall see below) bring him fame and notoriety.

There are a number of recurring themes in the memorialists’ stories that help to illuminate the experience of “going for a soldier.” The most consistently expressed is a restless desire for adventure. Apprencticeship was a fact of life for most Englishmen seeking to secure a living. Its terms were, however, scarcely less demanding than those of military service. A desire to escape it is reiterated by most of our writers. Another recurring factor is orphaning67; especially the premature loss of a father. Samuel Hickson’s letters provide an insight into the devastating effects of such a loss in 18th century England. These were material as well as emotional. A father’s legal control over his property and his family could mean the loss of everything literally overnight. The loss of a father was an especially important experience for young men like Green and Shipp who were orphaned at an early age and raised as outsiders. For these young men entering the Army was a show not only of patriotism68 but of defiance against societal authority as well69. Pvt. Green loved ‘old England’ but he also disliked the constraints of

66 Dr. John Bell implies a somewhat lower level of assiduity among medical inspectors in the 1780’s: “In the 5th Regiment, we seldom had fewer than forty or fifty men affected with ulcers of different kinds, and it was uniformly observed that these were the most irregular and literally the worst soldiers in the corps…regimental surgeons, who wish to avoid much expence, trouble and anxiety, ought to be… cautious in reporting such men fit for service.” Bell, op cit,145-146. 67 Family ties might also serve as a positive inducement to enlist. Thomas Morris of the 2nd/73rd had a brother in the battalion before he joined. The Anonymous Sergeant of the 74th “had a brither a sergeant in them.” Shipp’s military relations coupled with his unhappy experiences as an orphan served to inspire him to enlist. 68 Although most of the accounts do at least contain some allusion to patriotism; even if it is only the primary motivating factor in the case of Sgt. Cooper. 69 In this context it is again instructive to look at John Baynes’ description of a Regular battalion on the eve of the First World War. The battalion’s Regimental Sergeant Major described his enlistment experience to an officer (Brigadier Stanley Clark): “When he told his parents he wished to join the Army he was abused for wanting to join ‘that scum’ and told that if he did they never wished to have anything more to do with him.” After his enlistment the Sergeant “never did have anything more to do with them.” Certain attitudes towards the Army didn’t necessarily change even during the Age of ‘High Imperialism.’ Baynes. 135.

40 apprenticeship. Sgt. Calladine’s ‘inclination for roving’ was an important corollary to Sgt. Morris’ wish to emulate the ‘glorious achievements of the British troops in Spain.’ To prefer the smell of ‘poother’ to that of the tradesman’s shop of the farmer’s fields was to be other; an ‘Outsider.’ This was deliberately emphasized in one striking military custom. When a private soldier married he and his bride simultaneously leapt over a sword as part of what Francis Grose called “an Ancient Ceremonial.” As they did so every other member of the company recited these words: Leap rogue, and jump whore, And then you are married for evermore70

How such a spirit of defiance of convention might be reconciled with submission to military discipline (and a sense of patriotism) can be understood if the British Army is seen as both a national institution and a thing apart from ‘normal’ society.

70 Francis Grose. The Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue, 1811 edition (Senate: London, 1994) 112. The soldier’s status in society is further clarified by an example Grose includes in his definition of ‘Lobster’ – “I will not make a lobster kettle of my c***, a reply frequently made by the nymphs of the Point of Portsmouth, when requested by a soldier to grant him a favor.” The ‘nymphs’ apparently saved themselves for sailors and other more exalted personages.

41

II. “OUR POOR FELLOWS:” Officers and (English)Men in the British Army 1775-1837 “Though in Rome litter’d – not Romans as they are not, though calved I’ the porch o’ the capitol – Coriolanus III,iii This classic statement of a purely aristocratic patriotism might be seen as a caricature of the attitude often attributed to British officers of our period. It implies that the men under their command were not of the nation but a sort of undifferentiated, deracinated mass. In fact British officers, although rarely egalitarians by any definition of that word, valued their soldiers and recognized the significance of their commitment to the Army and to Britain. They repeatedly expressed their conviction of “the superiority of the British soldier to any other.1” And they felt their men, despite being drawn almost entirely from the lowest social classes, shared that conviction. “Look upon the soldiers under your command as servants of the same royal master with yourself, and not as slaves; a light they are to often placed in by a great number of young officers2;” this advice is offered to young officers by an anonymous ‘old officer’ in a 1777 manual. The haughty British subaltern is no modern . Even in their own era British officers were often stigmatized as looking upon their men as lesser beings; or at best being inattentive to their needs. However, the ‘old officer’ follows his admonition with a number of accounts of common soldiers saving their officers’ lives (at peril to their own) as a result of the great regard and affection those officers had earned from their men. British officers of the Georgian era were by no means contemptuous of the soldiers placed under their command. And there is no better method of proving this assertion than by looking at their depictions of common soldiers; both in their personal writings and in official material. Although it is true that there were no professional perquisites for obtaining a commission in the British Army in practice most officers did commit themselves to their careers. The proliferation of training manuals that appeared in the latter half of the 18th century serves to substantiate this. However, there were many opportunities for pure ‘speculation’ in military commissions. Prior to the Duke of York’s reforms: …an officer who had money might purchase up to the rank of Lieut.-Colonel in three weeks or a month, as fast as his separate appointments could be passed through each separate gazette.

Between 1783 and 1787 there was not a single promotion in the officer corps that did not involve purchase3. The only effective constraint was the attitude of a unit’s commanding officer. The commander-in-chief’s reforms insured that promotion could not be obtained

1 G. C Moore Smith. The Life of John Colborne, Field Marshal Lord Seaton. (London: 1903), 107. Statement made in context of Colborne’s defense of Sir John Moore’s decision to turn and fight at Corunna in 1809. 2 Anonymous. Cautions and Advices to Young Officers. (Edinburgh: 1777) 3 This was a period of peace, even in India and other Imperial possessions. Thus there were no commissions awarded for leading ‘forlorn hopes;’ storming parties that spearheaded attacks on fortifications. Senior NCO’s who survived such expeditions were regularly granted commissions. Altogether 4.5% of all officers serving in the era 1800-1815 were promoted from the ranks. A.P.C. Bruce. The Purchase System in the British Army. (London: 1980)

42 simply by spending money; rather length of service became an essential element of advancement. A captain was required to have served for at least two years and a major for six. An effort was made to secure promotions for deserving officers unable to afford the price of purchase.4 By 1810 the reforms had produced results; only 19.5% of first commissions were purchased5. The Army was no longer a business investment with individuals purchasing promotions in hope of getting swift returns on their investments. In addition the practice of officers’ enlisting ‘’ soldiers so as to draw their pay themselves came to an end during the Duke of York’s tenure as C-in-C. All battalion inspection reports began to feature variations on the mantra “every man enlisted in the ranks carries a and does duty.6” These reforms, at the very least, guaranteed greater devotion to the service among potential officers; if they did not actively reward those already serving. There was still a tremendous gap between officers and men even after the reforms had been enacted. NCO’s carried out most of the duties involved in training the men and maintaining discipline. Thus Alexander Somerville could write of his experiences in the Scots Greys in 1831: As for the officers, if a soldier keeps out of the guard-house, by returning to the barracks in time when he has leave to go out, by being always ready for duty when required, and always clean, he may be a soldier for years without an officer speaking to him personally. The danger that awaits him from his officers shows itself when he does something to make them mark him, or to go before a court- martial7. Sommerville’s description of officer-man relationships is born out by officers’ accounts. These are generally remarkable for the lack of attention they devote to discussing the daily lives of their men and the dearth of personal interaction with them. However, this did not prevent British officers from regularly evincing affection and respect for their troops. The latter feelings are most common in descriptions of active service when shared experiences became quite unavoidable. This paradox is very much in evidence throughout the earliest period addressed by this study. Lt. John Barker of the 10th Regiment served in during 1774-75 and his journal’s references to private soldiers are those of a sympathetic spectator. This is clearly the case in his discussion of a common soldier tried for scuffling with the inhabitants: Not long since a Corporal of the King’s Own Regiment was confined by the express orders of the general for having ill-treated an inhabitant. A Court of Inquiry was ordered…the Corporal was remanded…about ten days afterwards a message came from Head Quarters to the Commanding Officer of the Regiment, to inform him if the Corporal begged the Inhabitant’s pardon he might be released; He refused unless the General positively ordered him, at the same time declaring he would rather stand a General Court Martial, than make a submission

4 These included graduates of the Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst founded in 1800. Remarkably Sandhurst graduates were not initially guaranteed a commission; rather their status had to negotiated on an individual basis. 5 Bruce. 6 WO 27/112 – Col. William Gomm inspecting the 42nd Highlanders – “No soldier is kept on the strength of the Corps who is not clothed and who does not do his duty.” 7 Alexander Somerville. The Auto-Biography of a Working Man.(Great Turnstile: 1951) 135.

43 where he knew he was not in the wrong; in a few days an order came to release him without any condition; he immediately went to his Captain, and begged leave to resign his Knott, as in the character of a private Soldier he should be less exposed to complaints; observing that the whole foundation of the complaint against him was from his protecting a sentry from the insults of a Servant of a Townsman…his manner of release is a sufficient proof not only of the disposition of the people, but of the readiness of Mr. Tommy to give up a Military, whether right or wrong8. Barker stingingly criticized his superiors on behalf of a private soldier with whom he identified. He also noted the intense antipathy of soldiers to the colonists which their officers were officially to discourage. In his description of the battle of Concord he depicts soldiers as men driven by rage against the enemy rather than red-coated automatons: Our soldiers the other day tho they shew’d no want of courage, yet were so wild and irregular, that there was no keeping ‘em in any order; by their eagerness and inattention they kill’d many of our own people…9 Thus, from Barker’s observations, the soldiers were pursuing their own ends at least as much as they were obeying their leaders by fighting the colonists. Another example of ‘enthusiasm’ for the Royal cause among the Boston garrison (prior to the outbreak of war) is described by Lt. Frederick Mackenzie of the 23rd Regiment: A country fellow was detected this day in buying arms from a Soldier of the 47th Regiment. The men of that Regiment immediately secured him, and having provided the proper materials, they stripped him and then tarred and feathered, and him upon a Truck, in that manner paraded him, in the afternoon, through most parts of The Neck. This matter was done with the knowledge of the Officers of the Regiment, although they did not appear in it, and it gave great Offence to the people of the town, and was much disapproved of by General Gage10. The soldiers in the Boston garrison existed in a state of semi-siege and their attitudes to the colonists were frequently ones of intense antipathy; however, there were many incidents of desertion and arms-selling to the rebels as well11. The men were being pulled

8 John Barker. The British in Boston. (New York: 1969) 9 Ibid 10 Frederick Mackenzie. Diary of Frederick Mackenzie. (Cambridge: 1930) vol I. 6-7. 11 Lt. Barker: Friday, Dec. 23rd, 1774: Sleet and a little snow all day; one of our men deserted; heard of robberies committed in the Country, most probably by some of the Deserters, who will do more harm than good, as nothing but Rascals go off; serve the Yankys right for enticing them away. Captain Glanville Evelyn of the 4th Regiment wrote on February 18th, 1775: You must not believe implicitly the reports that are spread of deaths and desertions among the troops; there have been some, and some regiments have been more unlucky than others; but it is very trifling, when you consider that no pains or expenses have been spared to seduce our men. Our regiment, nevertheless, has not lost more than we usually have done in the same length of time in Great Britain.” Unfortunately this is the only extensive reference to common soldiers among Evelyn’s letters. Glanville Evelyn. Memoir and Letters of Captain W. Glanville Evelyn (New York: 1971)

44 two ways at once and that the troops were ‘wild and irregular’ once the fighting commenced is scarcely to be wondered at.12 Two years later Lt. Mackenzie described similar conditions prevailing within the static British garrison at Newport, Rhode Island. There were three suicides in the first week of July, 1777: “A soldier of the 43rd Regiment shot himself last night in the rear of the camp…another soldier of the 43rd cut himself with a Razor across the wrists …(and) a Soldier of the 22nd Regiment shot himself through the body (of which he languished about 12 days.)” Mackenzie ascribed these incidents (as well as several desertions by “men of Good characters who were not suspected of such an act”) to “our having remained so long in a state of inactivity.” This “leads some (soldiers) to gloomy reflections, and induces others to commit actions disgraceful to themselves, hurtful to the discipline of the Army, and destructive to the Cause of their Country.” The remedy for this would have been an active policy of raiding (“little enterprizes against the Enemy) which would raise morale and “teach young soldiers and give them confidence.13” However, the natural cautiousness of General Sir Henry Clinton, the commander in Rhode Island, seemed to preclude such initiatives. Lt. Mackenzie’s ultimate judgment on the American War was that it defeat was the fault of the British commanders despite the great efforts of the Other Ranks: Having seen on every occasion what wonders are done by the British troops, against very superior numbers of Rebels, it is to be lamented, that of late we have never had it in our power to attack them when there was any kind of equality.14 This was the result of a defective grand strategy based on the pursuing the chimera of American Loyalism instead of trying to beat the American army decisively in the field. The British troops were penny-packeted across the country instead of being concentrated against Washington. Mackenzie, who consistently praised the common soldiers, took his indictment further: Our Military system is undoubtedly a bad one, when the King has it not in his power to bring forth into the talents of those Generals he has at home, among whom there certainly are several men of genius and capacity. But this is an unpopular war, and men of ability do not chuse to risk their reputation by taking an active part in it.15 Thus, in Lieutenant Mackenzie’s view, defeat came about because of deficiencies at the top despite the best efforts of the Army and its soldiers. Lieutenant Thomas Anburey of the 24th served in the most disastrous of all British campaigns in North America, that of Saratoga. However, his view is essentially similar to that of Barker and Mackenzie as regards the common soldiers. In a letter written on Aug. 8, 1777 he responds to criticism of the failure of the Army to reach Albany by a “rapid march”: …for a rapid march a soldier must of course be exempted from all personal incumbrances, and represented as just marching from a parade in England, for

12 Both Barker and Mackenzie describe an unusual number of duels fought between officers at this period; another example of the extreme tension throughout the garrison: “At Boston in the Spring of 1775 two General Courts Martial were sitting at one time, for the trial of Officers, an instance hardly known before in the British service, in one Garrison.” 13 Mackenzie vol I 146-147. 14 Ibid vol II 525 15 Ibid vol II 551

45 nothing can be more repugnant to the ideas of a rapid march, than the load a soldier generally carries during a campaign, consisting of a knapsack, a blanket, a haversack that contains his provision, a canteen for water, a hatchet, and a proportion of the equipage belonging to his tent; these articles, (and for such a march there cannot be less than four days provisions) added to his accoutrements, arms and sixty rounds of ammunition, make an enormous bulk weighing about sixty pounds…Picture yourself a man in this situation, and how extremely well calculated he is for a rapid march16. And, of course, the absence of roads precluded the extensive use of wagons. Thus it was necessary to move slowly giving special care to logistics if the troops were to be supplied at all; for “it must be a very patient veteran, who has experienced much scarcity and hunger, that is not tempted to throw the whole contents of his haversack into the mire, instances of which I saw on several of our marches.17” Although the ultimate results of the campaign were, of course, highly unfavorable to British arms this was not the soldiers’ fault. At Skenesborough early in the campaign the British gained a victory despite “the advantages of the ground” lying wholly with the Americans; the thickness of the woods making it “impossible to form a regular line.” Fortunately: The native bravery of our countrymen could not be more resolutely displayed than in this action, nor more effectively exerted. It was a trial of the activity, strength and valor of every man that fought18. At the even more desperate battle of Freeman’s Farm where the British “gained little more by our victory than honor:” The great valor displayed by the British troops encountering many obstructions, and such a powerful enemy, as, from the account of the prisoners, they had nearly treble our numbers in the field, and the great advantage of receiving instant reinforcements, must, in the eyes of those who judge impartially, reflect the highest honor19. At the final battle of Bemis Heights Anburey commanded a guard over the hospital. This was unpleasant service, “beholding the flow of wounded continually coming in’ while “many brave fellows are dying for their country20.” In the aftermath, as General Burgoyne himself prepared to surrender, the Lieutenant observed: True courage submits with great difficulty to despair, and…the valor and constancy of the British troops were astonishing; they still retained their spirits, in hopes that either the long–expected relief would come from New York,…or that the enemy would attack us, which was most fervently wished for, as it would have given us an opportunity of dying gallantly, or extricating ourselves with honor21. Lt. Anburey clearly believed he led brave men who could scarcely have been more devoted to Britain’s cause and who each possessed his own sense of honor, personal and national. He further reflected that the sacrifice of Burgoyne’s army did have one positive national, side-effect:

16 Thomas Anburey. With Burgoyne from Quebec. (Toronto: 1963) 159-160. 17 Ibid. 160 18 Ibid. 144 19 Ibid. 175 20 Ibid 184. 21 Ibid. 194

46 The courage, resolution and patience of the army in enduring the hardships of the campaign in general, but more particularly the conclusion of it, must fully refute an invidious charge of foreigners in general, particularly the French, that the English are unfit for the hardships of war, and though brave and intrepid in the field, are not capable of enduring fatigue, without the conveniencies (sic) of life22. Thus even in defeat “an army that always acted like Britons” enhanced Britain’s national reputation. And that reputation was made by both Officers and Men. In captivity the Convention Army, as the prisoners taken at Saratoga were known23, continued obstinate. A number of British soldiers being held on parole escaped and attempted to make their way to New York; at least 50 of these were re-captured by the Americans in 1780 alone. The total number of British escapees numbered 1560 to 725 German despite the overall numbers of the two nations amongst the prisoners being equal. And the great majority of Germans who did escape simply integrated into local German communities. 24The senior German officer among the prisoners reported that the Americans were constantly searching the British prisoners’ barracks and making arrests: The cause of this unjust treatment must either originate in the fact that, at the beginning, when the soldiers had difficulties with the Provincials, there was on the English side no prompt or sufficient satisfaction given, or that hard words and actions have embittered the provincials to such an extent, that they now do not keep the promises to which the treaty had bound them; and consequently they are endeavoring by these harsh proceedings to humble (the English). He contrasted this with the good treatment his own men received thanks to their “politeness” and “modesty.”25 An anonymous staff officer wrote of the intractable nature of the British prisoners in captivity at Prospect Hill, : Two English soldiers have already been killed by sentinels, and over forty who were arrested without passes by patrols have been sent to the guard-ships. Such unpleasant things have not befallen our corps. Anyway, there is tremendous animosity between the Americans and the English soldiers, and there have been many vexatious occurrences…26 What is remarkable about the British prisoners was not that many deserted but that most did not; and in addition, that so many that did desert, did so merely to escape to British lines. As the American historian of the Convention Army succinctly expressed it: “It was mainly the British prisoners who gave trouble.”27 It is unfortunate that the attitudes of British officers towards their men during the French Wars is often summed by a single infelicitous phrase: “scum of the earth.” In fact both the aphorist responsible for coining the term and his less celebrated subordinates held their troops generally in high regard; particularly in matters pertaining to their willingness to fight and die for their country. Difficulties were far more likely to manifest themselves over questions of order and discipline in camp than in sacrifice on field of battle. Even more contentious were efforts to reconcile a ferocious patriotism with the desire “that the inhabitants should be well treated and private property must be

22 Thomas Anburey. Travels Through the Interior Parts of America (New York: 1969) vol. II 23 As a result of the convention between Burgoyne and the American commander, Horatio Gates in which the British prisoners were promised swift repatriation; without Congressional approval. In fact the British troops who surrendered at Saratoga were kept until the end of the war. 24 William Dabney. After Saratoga: The Story of the Convention Army. (Albuquerque: 1954), 65. 25 Willam Stone ed. The Memoirs, Letters and Journals of Major General Riedesel. Vol 2. (Albany:1868), 7-8. 26 Ray Pettingell ed. Letters from America, 1776-1779. (Port Washington: 1964), 131. 27 Dabney. After Sarartoga. 45.

47 respected.28” Thus British commanders were as likely to find themselves trying to temper their men’s patriotic as to foster it. And nowhere was this more clearly the case than in the Peninsula. With this paradox in mind, we will look at officers’ descriptions of their men in the French Wars. No more heart-felt and memorable tributes to the British soldier have ever been written than those of Lt. James Hope of the 92nd Highlanders. The author’s unit was a truly ‘national’ one whose rank and file were overwhelmingly Scottish. Thus during the retreat from Burgos Hope recorded that the Highlanders: “…on every occasion, obeyed the orders of their superior officers with that cheerful alacrity for which the soldiers of this national corps have ever been remarkable.29” When the army’s retreat ended, at Coria on Dec. 1, 1812, the 92nd’s: “appearance, you may believe, was not very prepossessing – but still their hearts were truly British, and animated with the same ardent love of country, as on former occasions, when in the arms of victory30.” On July 25, 1813 the French army under Marshal Soult launched a surprise attack on British positions in the Pyrenees, at Maya Pass and Roncesvalles. These assaults were blunted by the dogged efforts of the heavily out-numbered British troops stationed in the passes. Lt. Hope describes the efforts of his battalion in some detail and takes special care to convey the sacrifices of the common soldiers. He provides a particularly memorable description of a counter-attack carried out by two Highland regiments together (the 71st and 92nd); The pipe-major of that regiment (the 71st) viewed the advance of the French with considerable emotion; and conceiving that his countrymen wanted something to stimulate them to deeds of daring, he made the hills and valleys ring to the “Gathering of the Camerons.” The effect was instantaneous – every Highlander was on his legs in an instant; with their eyes sparkling fire, only waited for the order to advance…As they advanced to the 92nd, the piper greeted his friends with the “Haughs of Cromdale,” in his best style. At the sound of that well-known Scottish air, which recalled to their memories the deeds of their ancestors, the Highlanders rose, and, without waiting for orders, rushed on their numerous foes with the most undaunted courage, who, panic-stricken at their audacity, wheeled about and ran…31

28 29 James Hope. The Iberian and Waterloo Campaigns. S. Monick (ed.) (Heathfield: 2000) 122. 30 Ibid 123. 31 Ibid. 180 Sir John Moore, surely the second best known officer to command a British army in the years 1793-1815, did not regard the reputation of the Highlanders as exaggerated (or invented). He made the following address to the officers of the 92nd on the occasion of his receiving the K.B. and choosing to place a Highlander on his coat of arms: …they will conquer or die on the spot, while their action, their hardihood and abstinence them to bear up under a severity of fatigue under which larger and apparently stronger men would sink. But it is in the principles of integrity and moral correctness that I admire most in Highland soldiers., and this was the trait that first caught my attention. It is this that makes them trustworthy, and makes their courage sure, and not that kind of flash in the pan which would scale a bastion today and tomorrow be alarmed at the fire of a picket. You Highland officers may sleep soundly at night, and rise in the morning with the assurance that your men, your professional character and honour, are safe.” Carola Oman. Sir John Moore. (London: 1953)

48 Hope describes in detail the exploits of four private soldiers, John Ball, William Bisket, William Dougald and his own servant who is only identified as H.J. throughout the narrative, each of whom was wounded but refused to be taken from the field while the regiment was still engaged. The 92nd’s exploits at Waterloo also evoked considerable attention from Lt. Hope. He records a poem written by a private of the Gordons on the morning of June 18th in the style of Robert the Bruce’s address before Bannockburn: Now’s the day, and now’s the hour See the front of battle lower, See approach Napoleon’s power, His chains and slavery! Lay the proud usurper low, Tyrants fall in every foe Liberty in every blow, Let us do or die!32 The charge of the Scots Greys against D’Erlon’s Corps left an indelible impression on Hope: “When the Scots Greys charged past the flanks of the 92nd, both regiments cheered, and joined in the heart-touching cry of “Scotland for ever!” These words possessed a charm, which none but those ardently attached to their native country ever rightly understood. The mere sound of them, in the ears of everyone who was present, will ever recall to their remembrance one of the most interesting and awfully grand scenes which man ever beheld.33”

As positively enamored as Lieutenant Hope was with the efforts of his countrymen he was equally derogatory in his description of the non-British elements in Wellington’s army; “when we reflected how small a proportion of that army were British, there seemed to be too much cause for a temporary sinking of the heart34.” And he dutifully records that “upwards of 10,000 of the foreign troops left their standard on the 18th; and in their disgraceful flight, robbed and plundered a number of the inhabitants of the country…35” “No age, no nation ever sent forth braver troops to battle than those who stormed Badajos.36” This tribute came from Captain George Bell, of the 34th Regiment, who penned some of the most heart-felt tributes to British soldiers and whose respect for them quite matched Hope’s. His description of the army in 1814 is unabashed in its assertion of British superiority: “We had the bravest, the finest-disciplined and well-seasoned army in the world; fighting was their daily bread – it gave them an appetite. No other soldiers in the world had a chance against them in fair and open ground.” Bell recounted several conversations of private soldiers. On the night before the Battle of Vitoria the soldiers were: “chaffing and talking of the ‘frog-eaters’ who could not be far off. They said they nosed them from their baccie and onions!” Shortly before being transported home Bell recalled a conversation with a crippled Irish soldier who was

32 Hope. 249. 33 Ibid. 254-255 34 Ibid. 262 35 Ibid. 271 36 George Bell. Soldier’s Glory. (London: 1956)

49 hoping for a full pension: “O, then good luck to yer honour, and sure it is yourself that would make it fifteen pence if ye could, for I marched a power in Spain, and kilt a good dale av the French, bad scram to them the vagabones.” Despite his unfortunate predilection for Irish dialect comedy Bell viewed the troops of all three nations with both affection and respect. There is certainly no condescension in his depiction of the following incident: It was a practise permitted in regiments to send a steady non-commissioned officer down to the coast to bring up what good things they could purchase for the officers. He had his list, a bag of dollars, and a couple of mules, with a pass from the commanding officer. On one occasion when the great siege and butchery was going on at St. Sebastian, a sergeant named Ball, belonging to the 28th or ‘Old Slashers,’ was on his way with a party for this purpose. Hearing the guns he pricked up his ears like an old , persuaded his party to follow him, lodged his trust – some 2000 dollars – with a , took a receipt, dashed on, joined the storming party, survived, reclaimed the money, made his purchases and returned to his regiment without any boasting or bravado. Insensible to fear or danger, this was the stuff our men were made of!” There is very little that needs to be added to this; for Capt. Bell, soldiers like Sgt. Ball were not inferiors to be coerced or even ‘managed.’ They were rather men who could be depended upon to carry out the most delicate tasks and to sacrifice willingly for the service and the nation. There are numerous such tributes to British soldiers scattered through officers’ memoirs. Lt. John Malcolm of the 42nd Highlanders, after witnessing French officers try to stem a hasty retreat during the battle of the Pyrennees actually averred: “This circumstance seems to justify the observation, that instances of cowardice, which occur in the French army, are to be found among the common soldiers, and scarcely ever among the officers, while in the British army the reverse is said to be the case” He added that his “observations and experiences” of British officers argued against the theory, at least as applied to the latter; however, that such a statement could even be contemplated shows the tremendous regard in which British common soldiers were held by their officers. As Capt. Moyle Sherer memorably (and effusively) phrased it: “I am one, who suspects, that three hundred British grenadiers would have held the pass at Thermopylae as stoutly as the Spartans; and have considered it as a simple discharge of a perilous and important duty, to die on the ground on which they fought.” British officers did record instances where their men’s visceral devotion to their own nation undermined the national war effort; in their dealings with Britain’s Spanish and Portuguese allies. And particularly the civilian population of those nations. Here Capt. Sherer provides a rather different testimonial to his countrymen: It is with pain I am compelled to confess that the manners of my…countrymen soon wrought a change in the kind disposition of this people…when they witnessed scenes of brutal intoxication, and were occasionally exposed to vulgar insult, from uneducated and over-bearing Englishmen…they began to examine our individual titles to their esteem; they were, often, very soon disenchanted; and the spirit in which we had awakened in them, manifested itself in various acts of neglect, rudeness and even resentment37. Thus Capt. Sherer understood the hostility British troops frequently encountered from Spanish residents, even if the latter were sympathetic to the goal to evicting the French from the Peninsula. Capt. George Call described an incident at Aldea de Ponte, Portugal

37 Moyle Sherer. Recollections of the Peninsula (Staplehurst: 1997)

50 in 1811 where British troops of the 5th Division had left: “the little cultivation around the village wholly laid waste.” The effects of this casual destruction were devastating to the peasants: “thus in a few hours an irreparable injury was committed which will cause the ruin of many families and probably the death of some few number by hunger.” And all this occurred: “while under the protection of English soldiers! – Alas! Poor creatures! Little did you expect to be deceived by your protectors.” General Robert Long seconded this view when he despaired of the brutality the British soldiers showed to the Spaniards during the retreat from Burgos: “I am concerned to say that the conduct of the troops throughout this retreat has been most vandalic (sis). The enemy could not have behaved worse, or done more mischief to the poor inhabitants and their dwellings. It will have its effect on the minds of the Spaniards, who will be justified in seeking retribution for the evils sustained.” Long was not an admirer of the Iberian nations38 but he understood that their support was indispensable in the Peninsula; that Britain’s whole effort was predicated upon it. And further General Long recognized that the aggressive patriotism which helped win battles could render those victories pointless if it’s violent expression alienated Britain’s allies. British officers’ depictions of common soldiers are not all couched in such dramatic terms. More frequently the incidents described are ambiguous; although they often serve to highlight the great social gulf that existed between officers and men. This class distinction often fostered a spirit of indulgence for an inferior’s foibles. Thus British officer memorialists were rather amused than angered by their soldiers’ proclivity towards rapine. This fore-bearing attitude is particularly apparent in discussions of the plunder of the French baggage train after the battle of Vitoria in 181339. Of this Capt. E. C. Close of the 48th Regiment wrote: “The troops that arrived first on the road made some lucky seizures. The plunder was enormous. The men, from having been badly supplied with provisions for some days, ran about catching sheep…mutton was to be seen in abundance, which was washed down with port wine.40” Capt. George Bell’s attitude mirrored that of Close in his depiction of the aftermath of the capture of ’s personal baggage: …soldiers excitingly engaged, their muzzles black with powder from biting cartridges, and perspiring like hunters, all busily employed in stripping the carriage even of its lining in search of something portable…I never saw such handy fellows. So expert were they that the whole contents were laid before the public in about fifteen minutes for selection, or, as a Paddy of a said: “Come boys, help yourselves wid anything you like best, fee gratis for nothing at all! The King soon made his will and left all you see behind him for our day’s throuble. He ‘s away to France, an’ the devil’s luck to him! Who’ll have a drink o’ wine?41”

38 Robert Ballard Long. Peninsular Cavalry General. (London: 1951) And certainly did not regard their troops as immune from committing excesses against their own countrymen: “The Spaniards are worse then the Portuguese, and between both incessant examples of irregularity, are presented to the eyes of British soldiers, who love marauding as much as the troops of any other nations.” 39 This spirit of indulgence was not shared by the Commander of the Army on this occasion whose remonstrances with the War Office produced a special “Act for the more speedy and effectual Trial and Puynishment of Offences committed by Soldiers detached in places beyond the Seas,out of His Majesty’s Dominions” (7th July, 1813). This allowed for general courts-martial to be held by as few as three officers (rather than the usual seven) The Earl of Bathurst further reaffirmed Wellington’s powers in a private letter sent on 22nd July, 1813:stating that “It is essentially necessary that the discipline of the army should be forthwith restored” and that Wellington ought to “execute, in cases of such urgent necessity, summary justice upon those under your command who may be detected in acts of violence and outrage.” Gurwood (ed.) vol. VIII 104-105. 40 41

51 That the Army’s abrupt pause to plunder allowed a considerable portion of the French army to escape did not deter British officers from indulging their men’s proclivities. Captain Thomas Browne of the 23rd Regiment provides an even more remarkable example of good-natured ‘noblesse.’ Browne was attached to the Adjutant-General’s staff and spent the day of the battle of Vitoria with a detachment of the 18th Hussars. As the French retreat turned into a rapid flight, Browne endeavored to lead his detachment in pursuit. Unfortunately “they could not resist falling to the work of plunder42” and presently Browne found himself exposed to the attention of the French rear-guard at the head of only a handful of men. A body of French cavalry rode over Browne’s detachment, leaving him half-conscious with a head-wound: “When I rose I saw half-a- dozen French dragoons occupied securing me & emptying my pockets, one of them having off my cocked hat43.” Browne and several other soldiers who had foolishly declined to plunder the French baggage train were now taken prisoner; the wounded Browne had to place one foot in a Frenchman’s stirrup and hang on as best he could as his captors road from the field. Fortunately a squadron of the 15th Hussars under Captain Thackwell, still in hand despite the manifest temptations, charged the French before they could leave the scene with their prisoners. Browne was rescued although he received a second wound; a cut across the hip. Browne initially fainted but on reviving was put under the charge of a sergeant of the 15th (who for reasons that will soon be clear Browne declines to name). The sergeant quickly procured a horse from an unlucky French commissary. The British sergeant: “knocked him off his horse, felt his pockets, left him on the ground, & taking his horse by the bridle cantered back to me, with this most acceptable present.” The two of them now headed to the field hospital in Vitoria; between them and their destination lay the remains of King Joseph’s baggage. After riding a short distance the Sergeant interjected: “Ah! Your Honour, if you were but well enough, just to be able to sit your horse for a minute & remain quiet, what a tight day this would be for me by the powers, it would be my making forever.” Despite bearing two wounds received as a result of soldiers plundering Browne was amenable: “…I care not if I remain a minute or two whilst you help yourself, as so many others are doing.” “Now the lord love your Honour for that kind word” said the Sergeant. And, recalls Browne “to my great astonishment and satisfaction I saw the Serjeant, in an instant, as hard at work as the busiest of the plundering group, filling pockets, Havresack, boots & the crown of his cap.” Presently: When I concluded he had satisfied himself that he had not another hole at his command that could contain another dollar, he quietly said to me – “Now your Honour, I’ve done, but would it not be a pity for your Honour to leave this spot with empty pockets?…Faith I’d fill every spot of you with silver. I was not long in giving him an apparently reluctant answer, just to let him understand he might do with me as he pleased. Before my answer was out of my lips, off he ran & was back in a minute with both hands full of Dollars, which were stuffed into the pockets of my coat. Then came a second supply and a third, till both my pockets were filled & the Fellow then literally thrust a handful into my trousers…We were both literally crammed with this money… Browne found himself indulging in the suspicion that he was being used as a sort of carrying chest, however the Sergeant “quickly relieved me from all doubt on this point by

42Thomas Browne. The Napoleonic War Journal of Thomas Henry Browne. Norman Buckley (ed.) (London: 1987) 214 43 Ibid 215

52 saying, “at all events, your Honour if you have got a hard thump today, you have got your pockets well-lined with doubloons.44” The sergeant now conveyed Browne to a house commandeered for the treatment of wounded officers. He stripped the Captain and put him to bed before hunting up a surgeon. Browne was bled and then he and the sergeant went to sleep. Two hours later the Sergeant unintentionally woke his charge: “I thought your Honour might be asleep, & I just intended to go out for an hour, & look about me, amongst all the fine things I saw lying on the roads as we came in.” Browne answered “You may do what you like only remember your Regiment at Day-Break.” The sergeant left but returned before sunrise; “I heard a sort of rattling & arranging of things near his Bed.” At daybreak the Sergeant woke Browne: “Well, your Honour, I’m off & I’m mighty glad to see you doing well & in good hands. I found a few trifles on the road last night & I’m leaving some for your Honour.” With this he laid on my bed a Watch, Chain & some Seals, a Spying glass & a writing desk, an inkstand which had evidently formed part of the writing-case, & several necklaces and Trinkets. “much good & long life to your Honour, & keep the things for I’ve got as many as I can carry. But how the Devil I am to carry my Dollars I hardly even think of. Faith, I’d give twenty of them for a Pound. He left me and I never saw the Serjeant again. Browne fell back asleep but on awakening discovered to his surprise that all the money that “the careful old soldier” had placed in his coat was still there; amounting to 470 Spanish dollars or L12045. After this adventure Browne begrudged the soldiers very little happily describing soldiers’ wives “seen for weeks after the action in muslins, three or four gowns one over the other, trimmed with fine lace, several pairs of earrings dangling from their ears, reticules, watches & fans as part of their costume. The contrast of these decorations with their bronze, tanned faces and brawny arms was ludicrous enough.46” The Captain’s tone throughout his description is one of almost gleeful complicity. And this is the indulgent, indeed permissive, perspective is characteristic of virtually all the junior officers who left accounts of the aftermath of the Battle of Vitoria47. A remarkable anecdote that helps to illuminate officer-man relationships in the British army, the occasionally conditional nature of an officer’s authority, the character of British soldiers, as well as some of the realities of the War in the Peninsula, is recorded by Lieutenant William Keep of the 28th Regiment. It concerns incidents that took place at the time of the Battle of St. Pierre, which was fought on December 13, 1813. Keep himself was a senior Lieutenant who first arrived in the Peninsula in 1813 after several

44 Ibid. 215-217. 45 Ibid 217-218 46 Ibid 219. 47 A rare exception is found in the memoirs of Capt. John Dobbs of the 52nd Light Infantry. However, his ‘dissent’ is made on behalf of the exceptionally well-disciplined soldiers of his own Corps who, as a consequence of good behavior, missed out on the spoils: “While passing through the center of this immense body not a man was allowed to fall out, so that not an article was touched by us; stragglers and camp- followers were able to load themselves with it at their leisure. Indeed it may be said that the hard-working men of the Peninsular (army), generally speaking, got more kicks than half-pence.” John Dobbs. Recollections of an Old 52nd Man. (Staplehurst: 2000), 48.

53 years of home service. He was a sympathetic officer who described the plundering of the French baggage at Vitoria in these terms: It is a fine chance for some of our poor fellows, many of them obtaining 50 or 60 guineas each as wagons filled with money fell into their hands. The spoils of the day pretty well compensate for its toils to some of these heroes, and they are certainly deserving of it, for there is no describing what they endure in these campaigns48. Keep’s generous attitude was going to be seriously tested while stationed at St. Pierre. The 28th was part of General Hill’s Corps, which had crossed the River Nive on Dec. 8th, separating it from the rest of the Army. The British advance was cautious for the Corps was clearly exposing itself to counter-attack in its role as part of Wellington’s plan to invest Bayonne and invade the South of France. On the night of Dec. 12 the 28th were billeted throughout the town of St. Pierre. Due to a severe storm the soldiers were put in private houses: “this separated us completely from one another, and the officers were ordered to remain in the same houses with the men, a very unusual thing49.” Lt. Keep discovered that this procedure was “not without sufficient cause” for St Pierre was a “center for people whose business it was to gather in the vintage.’ The cellar of virtually every house in the village was “filled with casks of wine;” Keep recalls, “in consequence of this, I passed a night amidst the greatest miseries.” Trouble began soon after dusk. The female servant who was alone in the house burst in on Keep to tell him of ‘the excessive bad behavior’ of the men who had broken into the cellars, become hopelessly drunk in short order and ‘taken the shoes from her feet.’ The Lieutenant dispatched the only other officer in the building, ensign Robert, to the Regiment’s Adjutant in hopes of receiving some assistance. Soon after a six man ‘file of the Guard50 arrived under a very steady Corporal.” They brought bad news. The Adjutant could send no further help as “the same and worse was going on” in every house in the town. Keep led the Corporal and the sober troops into the cellar: The Corporal, though a powerful man, was leveled to the ground immediately with his men, by these intoxicated soldiers, and I found there was nothing to be done, except by remaining myself amongst them, being a check on their committing further mischief, as they professed to be willing to obey my orders in that respect. When I saw them all falling asleep, I continued to continue that object by remonstrating with them.51 Soon an uneasy calm was restored to the vintner’s basement. This was shattered in sensational fashion when, “Just before dawn of day, (Ensign) Robert came to tell me the French were advancing.” What happened next is quite as remarkable as the events of the previous night: “This information had the most surprising effect on the men, who turned out with the greatest steadiness, and fell into the ranks, so that when I marched them up to the Regiment they were in perfect order.” The

48 William Keep. In the Service of the King. (Staplehurst: 1997) 149 49 Ibid. 191 50 Soldiers of the 28th on Guard duty that evening Ibid. 190. 51 Ibid 191 That Keep’s experience was not unique is shown by a sharp letter (dated 16th April, 1814) issued by the Adjutant-General to Sir Henry Clinton the commander of the 7th Division : ‘I transmit you an estimate of property plundered or destroyed in the farm-house which adjoined the church, situated in the redoubt carried by the 6th Division in the enemy’s last position, and occupied till the complaint was made to me. I am personally aware that irregularity was committed by your troops, as I placed double sentries over the wine, but, notwithstanding, in half an hour after, I found the cellar full of British soldiers…You will, therefore, see the propriety of remitting to me forthwith the amount of estimated loss, viz., 450 francs, recovering the same from such stoppages as you may conceive most just and calculated to discourage the recurrence of a disorder which the circumstances of action &etc. alone produced among the troops under your command.” - Gurwood. Vol. XIV. 502 Keep was fortunate to escape without pecuniary loss.

54 28th then marched to glory playing a vital, and much lauded, role in one of the most hard- fought British victories of the War52. The incident reflects the enigmatic nature of the soldiers under Keep’s command; and of the British common soldiers in general. They were capable of self-discipline for it wasn’t Keep who pulled them together when they heard news of the French. Yet they clearly needed a minder; for nothing else describes Lieutenant’s role during the previous night. Unfortunately, Keep did not have opportunity of his readers to reflect on the day’s incidents as he was shot through the cheek during the battle and seriously wounded.53 Captain Robert Blakiston of the led British troops in both India and the Peninsula. He commanded both Indian and Portuguese troops as well. Blakiston took a serious interest in both Indian and Iberian customs and he is certainly one of the most thoughtful chroniclers produced by the British army during our period of study. His reflections are astute and generally laudatory when discussing British common soldiers. Like Wellington54, Cornwallis55 and other commanders he had no doubt that the British troops were the mainstay of Imperial rule and that their achievements in India were in many ways unique: I must also say of the European soldiers in India, that they have more dash in them than their countrymen display in Europe; but this may be accounted for by the different degrees of respect with which they view the enemy. Indeed, after a regiment has been a few years in India, it is, in every respect, superior to one just come out; or by that time all those of weakly constitutions have died off. The old 19th Dragoons, excepting that their habits were not the most temperate, were a fine specimen of what a regiment ought to be. By almost constant service…these men had become perfectly bronzed, and were hard as iron, being proof against the sun without and arrack within. They used to call themselves the “terrors of the East.56”

52 Ibid. 192. With regard to this engagement (Sir John) Colborne remarked: “Wellington committed a great error. Hill’s division (sic) was quite isolated. Soult passed the bridge and attacked it with his whole army, yet such was the goodness of the British troops, he was repulsed. Soult himself said afterwards, ‘Well, if one division of your troops can stand against seventy or eighty thousand of ours, there’s no more to be said; but it is an error.” G. C. Moore Smith. The Life of Colborne.” 198. 53 Keep’s harrowing experiences were not at an end. Instead of a hospital he was placed in the house of a Spanish woman who pleaded with him to protect her property. He agreed but may have regretted the decision when a number of “very boisterous artillerymen” crowded into the lady’s front room. Keep, the lady and her two daughters then hid themselves in the back. The women “were in some uneasiness about being discovered, bolted the door, and placed some chairs against it. This I found they had very good reason for, as the artillerymen carousing began to talk very loud, and as I lay I heard such things related by them as fully assured me it was no more than a necessary precaution.” Fortunately the gunners left of their own accord the next morning leaving Keep his nurses and their back room intact. 54 “I consider nothing in this country (India) so valuable as the life and health of the British soldier.” Sir Herbert Essame “Sayings of the Duke of Wellington” Army Quarterly 86 (July 1963) 104. What this testimonial implies concerning the Army at home I leave to the reader. 55 After requesting to Sir Henry Dundas that several terribly unhealthy German regiments be withdrawn from Madras Cornwallis added: “But don’t mistake me, and take away a British regiment instead of them.The King’s British regiments must not be parted with; we have in reality nothing else…” Letter dated Nov. 30, 1786. Charles Ross ed. Correspomndence of Charles, First Marquis Cornwallis. Vol I (London: 1859), 233-234. 56 Robert Blakiston.Twelve Years Military Adventure in Three-Quarters of the Globe. (London: 1829) vol. I 234

55 Blakiston conveys to the reader the awful reality of the acclimatizing process, which killed thousands of British soldiers in the 18th century, and produced among the survivors an awfully hardy specimen of soldier. And he was equally honest in describing the importance of that complete sense of segregation from the native population that characterized the British soldiers in the East and rendered them heroically, brutally formidable57. Blakiston joined the Peninsular Army in 1812. He served as a Major in the Portuguese Cacadores and also in that nation’s Military Engineer Corps, in addition commanding a squadron of the 25th Light Dragoons (as a Captain). His observations of the War in the Peninsula and of the British Army are telling. In particular he was struck by the breakdown that took place during the retreat from Burgos in 1812. Like other officers he felt that much of the failure was the result of inadequate supplies; however this was not the only explanation: Retreat, in any shape, has a most demoralizing effect on a British army. It is not so with the French, who, being more practiced in the art of war, know that their chief safety consists in keeping in a compact body. But after all the only security for the maintenance of discipline is a well-supplied ; for men will not starve with arms in their hands58, and the moment they are left to shift for themselves there is an end to the authority of their officers…The sin of intemperance, the only blot on the character of the British soldier is, in the long run, almost sufficient to neutralize the effects of his valor; for besides the peculiar ill-consequences resulting from it during a retreat, it diminishes his capacity to undergo the hardships of a campaign, by the injury done to his constitution by the habit of drinking59. He felt that the debilitating tendency towards drunkenness of British soldiers was immediately apparent to anyone who had commanded foreign troops. And it was a truly national phenomenon: “Sawney is to the full as fond of drink as Pat, and Bull is little better than either.60” Blakiston advised future French commanders to never press a British army too closely on a retreat but rather “leave our men to their own intemperance61” and you would soon be picking up inebriated stragglers by the score. One wishes Blakiston had the opportunity to meet Lt. Keep. Captain Blakiston possessed an open mind and he mitigated many of his harsher judgments of British troops when he observed them on occupation duties in the South of France. He noted that the British troops were well treated by their hosts and responded in kind. He “frequently saw them walking arm-in-arm with the well-dressed bourgeois and their wives, and daughters62.” The French, perhaps through ignorance, did not regard all redcoats as potentially criminous.63 “In fact, a militaire is a much greater character in France than in England, and our soldiers were not a little surprised to find themselves

57 After the costly storming of the Indian town of Gawilighur Blakiston witnessed soldiers of the 94th regiment encouraging Indian prisoners to flee “and, when they got to the distance of about thirty yards, they leveled (muskets) and brought them down.” Blakiston could only “with difficulty” convince the troops to “stop this cruel diversion.” Blakiston. 229 58 Captain George Wood of the 34th made a similar observation of the Army during the 1812 campaign: “for all our persuasions, threats and intreaties, were now totally disregarded. Nor can this be wondered at: the men conceived that they might escape punishment for plundering, but they did not think it possible to escape starvation without acting as they did.” George Wood. The Subaltern Officer. (London: 1825), 178. 59 Blakiston vol II. 160 60 Ibid. 162. 61 Ibid. 162. 62 Ibid. 366. 63 Norman Hampson. Not Really What you’d Call a War. (London: 2000) The celebrated historian recalled the day of his receiving a commission in the Royal Navy (he’d served as a rating) in 1943 and no longer being regarded as “naturally criminous” by officers and military policeman.

56 treated with so much consideration.64” The French hosts did not suffer for their courtesy as the British troops Blakiston observed behaved exceptionally well; “in the humbler dwellings of the artisans you would sometimes see a great (British) grenadier dangling a French baby on his knee by the fire-side, while the mother was engaged in some domestic occupation65.” In this context an incident observed made by Ensign John Malcolm of the 42nd Highlanders should be noted. Malcolm revisited the battlefield of St. Pierre several days after the engagement. Most of the dead lay unburied; he saw “heads lying at a distance from bodies” that were made even more horrible by the feasting of birds. He also noted: …here and there might be seen a new-made grave, with a musket barrel or a laurel bough planted at its head; a sure sign that its inmate had been a favorite with his comrades, and that the soft and sacred feelings of the heart had still survived the deadening and demoralizing effects of war. There was something doubly touching about these simple tributes of affection, arising as they did amidst such scenes of horror, surrounded by the unhonoured and unburied dead. It is a pity that the tone and substance of Malcolm’s observation are so rarely echoed by either the officers or men of the Army in their memoirs. The devotion of individual soldiers to their comrades66 is a subject only rarely touched upon in the writings of the period. An attitude of apparent indifference to individual soldiers is reflected in the dispatches and official correspondence of general officers. General orders contain virtually no mention of individual soldiers other than those brought to General Courts Martial. There are only two instances of private soldiers being singled out for outstanding bravery in the ‘victory dispatches’ sent to the War Office in the aftermath of successful engagements. These heroic incidents deserve attention in and of themselves; yet they also serve to further illuminate the relationship between soldiers and their commanders. The first ‘mention’ of a common soldier in a Dispatch was written by a Colonel rather than a General. Robert Rollo Gillespie led the 19th Light Dragoons to the rescue of a detachment of British soldiers besieged by Indian mutineers at Vellore in 1806. The beleagured detachment had been completely surprised by the uprising. Not only had the sepoys killed their own officers; they’d managed to kill the officers of the British troops garrisoned beside them. In this terrible circumstance Sergeant John Brady of the 69th Regiment had risen to the occasion; rallying the British troops and defending their barracks against odds of four-to-one. Col. Gillespie’s dispatch describes Brady’s achievement handsomely: I beg leave to recommend to Your Excellency’s notice as highly worthy of reward Sergeant Brady of His Majesty’s 69th, by whose unceasing exertions and genuine bravery the remains of that corps were kept together without an officer, and continued to make the most determined resistance until my arrival. In our sally from the ramparts this man, may it please Your Excellency, behaved in the most gallant manner. Sergeant Brady was awarded the extraordinary sum of 250 pounds by the government of India and made a Conductor in the Ordnance Corps as reward for his achievement. Although not mentioned in the dispatch Sgt Angus McManus and Pvt. Philip Bottom were also given cash awards of 50 and 20 pagodas respectively. Gillespie was effusive in his praise for every common soldier of the 69th on this occasion: “The remains of this valuable corps fought gallantly for several hours without an officer, and the Colonel begs

64 Blakiston. Vol II. 366 65 Ibid. 367. 66 Shils – “Combat Motivation” See chapter on Peninsular War for discussion of ‘comradeship.’

57 leave to express his admiration of their undaunted attitude.” It might be noted that Sgt. Brady reciprocated Gillespie’s feelings. He had served under the famously dashing, young Colonel in the West Indies and at the height of the siege of the Lahore barracks he encouraged his men with the admonition: “If Colonel Gillespie be alive, God almighty has sent him from the West Indies to save our lives in the East.” The second tribute to the valor of specific private soldiers in a general order is to be found in Sir ’s dispatch of August 6, 1812. On this occasion Brock singled out two sentries who sacrificed themselves to slow the American attack across the Canard River near (Amhearstburg, Ontario) at the commencement of the campaign that ended in the surrender of the American army at : The Commander of the forces takes great pleasure in announcing to the troops that the enemy, under General Hull, have been repulsed in three attacks made on the 18th, 19th and 20th of last month upon the garrison of Amhearstburg…in which attack His Majesty’s 41st Regiment have particularly distinguished themselves. In justice to that Corps his Excellency wishes particularly to call the attention of the troops to the heroism and self-devotion displayed by two privates, who, being left sentinels when the party to which they belonged had retired, continued to maintain their station against the whole of the American forces until they both fell, when one of them, whose arm was broken, again raised himself and opposed with his those advancing against him until he was overwhelmed by numbers. An instance of such firmness and intrepidity deserves to be thus publicly recorded, and his Excellency trusts it will not fail to animate troops under his command with an ardent desire to follow so noble an example whenever an opportunity shall be hereafter offered them.

Lt. Col. Richardson, a veteran of the 41st, accurately describes Brock’s dispatch as “the most flattering attestation that ever was penned and published, in approval of the heroic conduct of a soldier of the British Army.” The sole deficiency is that the names of Privates Hancock and Dean were “from some unaccountable cause” unrecorded in the dispatch. Brock compensated for this omission immediately after the surrender of Detroit: …the first act of General Brock was to enter and liberate, in person, the gallant Dean who had been taken prisoner at the Canard and who then lay confined in the guard-room. Shaking him by the hand in the presence of his comrades – while his voice betrayed strong emotion, he warmly approved his conduct, and declared he was indeed an honor to the profession of soldier. Such commendation, from such a man, was in all probability the happiest day of poor Dean’s existence…

Dean’s comrade, Pvt. Hancock had earlier died of his wounds. The extraordinary measures taken by Gillespie and Brock to memorialize the deeds of private soldiers occurred in similar contexts. Both incidents were part of victories gained under peculiarly desperate circumstances against assailants who outnumbered their British enemies by a factor of 3 or 4 to one. Thus there may have been practical considerations involved in publicly recognizing good behavior. However, Vellore and Detroit were not the only victories gained against heavy odds by a British army. Rather it is perhaps a combination of the desperate circumstances and the notably generous personalities of Brock and Gillespie that explain the encomiums awarded to Sgt

58 Brady and Privates Hancock and Dean. It is a pity that other general officers of the era failed to follow the generous example of Gillespie and Brock; certainly no private soldier in the Peninsular army received a similar tribute. British generals were often more generous to common soldiers in their private correspondence and memoirs than in general orders. General Lord Blayney became a as a result of the failure of a sortie launched by the garrison of Cadiz in 1810. During an extended period of captivity the general had an unusual opportunity to acquaint himself with the character of common soldiers. He became responsible for relief efforts by the British government for all prisoners-of-war held in France. He was able to gauge the attitudes of soldiers (and sailors) under conditions of duress that fundamentally tested their loyalty. His observations can thus attest to the levels of patriotic commitment exhibited by British servicemen as few others can. Lord Blayney’s most expansive reflections on this question were elicited by an encounter with a British sailor being held in Orleans. On this occasion the General was visiting the wife of an English merchant, Mrs. Thompson, trading legally with the French in the aftermath of Napoleon’s relaxation of the . The sailor was working as a servant but spent his free time at the bottom of a dry well. He greeted the general and explained his extraordinary behavior: “…I am glad to see a countryman, for as these here French people talk so fast, and plague me so, that I can find no rest but the bottom of the well, and then I am sure none of them will dare venture to follow me.” He went on describing his humane treatment by his captors: “but, though these people are too civil to me by half I would prefer a piece of salt junk, and a biscuit with countrymen, to the finest dinner with your French people; for, somehow or other, I don’t over and above like their ways.” Lord Blayney was deeply gratified by this expression of feeling by ‘Jack” and the reflections on the question of patriotism it inspired deserve to be quoted in full: The cosmopolite philosopher will here doubtless pity that ignorance, which creates national particularity and perpetuates national jealousy. But though we may desire to see this narrow prejudice swept from the minds of persons in the higher classes, God Forbid that ever the genuine John Bull should be so far enlightened. While every English soldier and sailor is intimately convinced that he is equal to two Frenchmen in any kind of a fight, there is little danger of his not supporting that superiority; but let him once begin to doubt if a Frenchman is not as good as an Englishman, and the odds are entirely done awy. With respect to national hatred, however, there is to use the old adage, very little love lost between the French and ourselves, but the causes are very different. They envy us, but we despise them. Thus an English sailor believed himself to be part of a superior breed; and by believing became so. General Blayney had no doubt as to the significance of ‘ancient’ English patriotism for the common soldier and sailor. And he saw this belief (to a modern reader perhaps rather insidiously) as an indispensable factor in Britain’s national power. This is not to say that Lord Blayney encountered a façade of seamless devotion on the part of the British prisoners. On his march into France in 1810 his detachment of prisoners was escorted by a Spanish battalion loyal to Joseph Bonaparte. Among these he took note of a particular Spaniard:

59 Whose broad brogue denoted the green isle of his nativity too plainly…he acknowledged that he had deserted from the 87th Regiment. He recounted the misery, to which the French troops in Spain are often reduced, and said that he had suffered so much since his desertion, that he would willingly undergo any punishment, short of death, to be once more restored to his country. I listened to him with the more satisfaction, as he was overheard by some of our soldiers, who had shown symptoms of an intention of entering the French service. Later, in France, Blayney recorded another encounter with a deserter. The latter was an Irishman as well who had hired himself out a servant to the captain of a French privateer; thus escaping prison. He had been the personal servant of a British officer who had, however, simply cut him adrift when they were both captured. Blayney deplored this abandonment: “for thus being left without succour to enable them to go comfortably to a depot, where they would be found on exchange, they enter into the service of the first Frenchman who will hire them.” Thus officers had obligations to foster loyalty among their men, rather than treating them as disposable objects. Blayney’s memoir contains a number of other incidents that reflect on the patriotism of common soldiers and sailors. This was expressed viscerally in a series of encounters between British and German POW’s while Blayney was still being held in Spain in 1810: …the preceding night a fray had taken place between the English and German prisoners., I on enquiry had found it had originated with an English sailor, who being a powerful bruiser, thought proper to have round with some of the foreigners, and a gigantic sergeant, who was the bully of the prison, seeming a proper subject he attacked him secundum artem, and soon demolished him; then taking out to others, he gave them such desperate beatings, that they were obliged to be sent to the hospital, and the tar was acknowledged by all sides to be the best man. The foreigners, however, not relishing this British amusement, requested and obtained a separation… Boxing was then a uniquely British sport and it features in a number of Blayney’s observations on encounters between Britons and foreigners. At Bordeaux in 1814 Lord Blayney was responsible for repatriating British prisoners. These poured into the city from all over France. Some of them arrived in parlous condition and the General had to provide them with relief. This took the form of a cash allotment and a supply of shoes. However, “as persons of their description are not in general very provident, they mostly drank out the money and sold the shoes.” Suitably ‘elated with liquor’ the prisoners now took out their frustrations on “all Frenchmen indiscriminately” and soon “scarcely a pane of glass remained unbroken” in the town. The Gendarmes, flooded with Allied prisoners, simply surrendered the field. The British prisoners now began to provide the local inhabitants with exhibitions of the manly art: My old landlord informed me he had seen 37 regular pitched battles, and asked me if this was really the usual of resolving differences in England. “But,” says he, “what astonished me most was, their friends, instead of separating the combatants, encouraged them.” He also gave a half-finished description of a bottle-holder, but both the name and the character were so and extraordinary to him, that he was perfectly at a loss to know what to make of it.

60 Lord Blayney’s efforts at re-establishing order were never entirely successful. The military commandant of the Blois district and the local chief of gendarmes consulted with the British general. The commandant declared bluntly: “one hundred English prisoners caused him ore trouble than a thousand of any other nation.” And the senior gendarme claimed that he could not comprehend the English character even after “11 years constant study and experience.” Blayney sympathized but could scarcely conceal his own pride over the prisoners’ intractability. The men Lord Blayney67 attempted to ride herd over were clearly imbued with an intensely pugnacious sense of patriotism. And his memoir in general provides a picture that belies the notion that the British army was a mercenary force uninspired by national feeling68. General Robert Long commanded a Cavalry Brigade in the Peninsula from 1811- 113. He was a controversial figure, disliked by Wellington, whose letters reveal considerable skepticism about the War with France. However, his admiration for the soldiers under his command, as revealed in his personal letters was unstinting. Shortly after the he reflected on the inferiority of the allied cavalry; this existed because “I can never put reliance on any other than British troops, which in point of numbers are scarcely one third of the Enemy.” Thus the over-all size of the Anglo- was misleading since only its British component mattered militarily. If Long became more optimistic about the prospect of Allied victory it was because of the achievements of the British soldiers. In February 1812 he wrote: The French armies themselves in the Peninsula are heartily sick as it is of the contest, and the severer the task imposed upon them, the more will this alienation increase. I believe they have as great a personal dread of the British soldier, as the brow-beaten nations have hitherto had of them. They feel they are no longer invincible and acknowledge it. The extraordinary achievements of the British soldiers in the Peninsula would, in Long’s opinion, bring great benefits to their country:

67 Captain Frederick Hoffman of the Royal Navy was a fellow prisoner at Blois. He described Lord Blayney thusly: “He was a good-natured but not a very wise man. He could not bear the midshipmen, because, he said, they cheated him out of his best cigars and made him give them a dinner when he did not wish for their company. This was, strange to say, sometimes the case.” One hopes the “Other Ranks” among the British prisoners better appreciated his indulgence. Frederick Hoffman. A Sailor of King George. (London: 1999) 172. 68 Sgt. Anthony Hamilton of the 43rd was captured at Vera in the Pyrenees on August 30, 1813. He was marched across France “under good treatment” to the town of Moines (“formerly the scene of cruelty and blood, during the French Revolution.” the sergeant reminds us). As the the Russian army advanced into France the prisoners were marched to Tours. During the march the sergeant and “fourteen of my comrades” chose to take “French leave of our old keepers, while in a piece of woods, between Moines and Orleans.” They were escorted by invalided French soldiers and “There was a difference of opinion among us, whether the guns of our escort were actually loaded.” Hamilton believed they each “had a shot in the locker in cas we attempted to leave the ranks.” The guards did indeed fire “a smart volley” at the escaping British prisoners but the latter managed to reach cover in some surrounding woods without losing a man. They then found an advancing Prussian unit whose commander treated them to “a good dinner for each and a bottle of the best wine.” Hamilton became the servant of a British liason officer with the Prussians spending three months in “the greatest place for crime and debauch in the world.” Altogether Sgt. Hamilton’s account certainly provides validation of Lord Blayney’s description of the attitudes of British prisoners-of-war. – Anthony Hamilton. “Hamilton’s Campaign with Moore and Wellington.” (Staplehurst: 1998) 146-149.

61 The French have been taught the respect due to the redcoats, and this borders upon hating anf fearing the sight of them. I trust the impression will long continue, even after the sword is sheathed, of which prospect appears distant enough, even for the most sanguinary.

The sacrifices of the British soldiers would ensure a long peace; one based on the dependable cornerstones of respect and a healthy, well-earned fear. Lord Blayney’s observations as well as those of General Long are reinforced by a panegyric delivered by General Brisbane in the form of a speech delivered to “the Grand Military Banquet to the Officers of the Thirty-Fourth Regiment” on June 25, 1814. Whatever its merits as a piece of military anthropology it at least does much to put paid to the notion that British officers regarded their men with contempt: I have had the advantages of serving in the first and second campaigns of the war with the Austrian and Prussian armies; and I may say I have seen almost the whole of the European armies in motion upon a large scale; and I consider the British, in point of quickness and accuracy, stands foremost; and nobody will doubt that their physical strength and moral courage are superior to that of any other nation. It is all one to the British soldier where his enemy may be – whether in his front, flanks or rear – he will fight him as long as his officer orders him, as at Waterloo, where whole faces of the squares were swept away with round shot, still the British soldier was found immovable…it is too much the idea amongst the continental armies, that if their center is pierced or their flank turned, the battle is lost, as at the unfortunate battle of Jena, which the Prussians lost and which decided the fate of their country…How widely different the British soldier! While in Paris in the year 1815, I had many conversations with French officers of high rank, who argued strongly, that by all laws of war, the English lost the Battle of Waterloo, as their center had been pierced, their flanks turned, and their artillery in possession of the French. Could these gentlemen have paid a higher compliment to the British army, although they wished to turn that compliment to their own account69. General Brisbane had commanded a brigade in the Peninsula and at Waterloo and his experience of war was very wide. His eulogy should not be dismissed out of hand. Indeed, it is instructive to compare his views to those of foreign observers such as von Muffling or the observations made by Marshal Soult of his ‘inexplicable’ defeat at Albuera. However, its greatest value is as a tribute from one Briton to his countrymen; a tribute meant to transcend class distinctions.

69 Richard . The Historical Records of the Thirty-Fourth Regiment (London: 1858) appendix

62

III. “HARDENED TO MY LOT:” Crime and Punishment in the British Army

The victim was a man of the 88th Regiment…As there was no trial, nor proceedings of a court, or sentence read, this man had not even got the benefit of a court-martial; and as there was nothing said on either side, for the Provost deigned not even a word nor even a look…(the soldier) was therefore launched into eternity, without us knowing what his crime was. A report, however, was circulated, that he had been seized by the provost Marshall, when coming out of a house with a ball of worsted yarn in his hand. This was, to be sure, a horrible crime; and especially in a country whose armies had laid waste kingdoms, and whose crimes had made desolate the whole of Europe; in which thee was not a town, nor scarcely a single house, that had not experienced the fatal effects of French cupidity.1 Thus Private William Brown of the 45th ascribes the cause of the summary execution of a British soldier to an excessive fastidiousness on the part of the British state in dealing with its hereditary enemy. British military justice was not invariably arbitrary; in fact, the power to carry out summary executions on offenders caught in the act was something of an innovation in the Peninsula2. However, it was indubitably brutal. The infliction of corporal punishment by flogging had become the primary means of dealing with serious military offenses by 17753; other punishments such as picketing or the riding horse4 having been dispensed with and extensive prison terms only began to be introduced in the period after Waterloo. The effects of British military justice on the individual soldier are complex. If most soldier-memorialists expressed distaste, or even horror, over flogging others regarded it as a terrible necessity. Sergeant John Cooper of the 7th Fusiliers went so far as to declare that: The army was composed of the lowest orders…they plundered when an opportunity occurred…could a general so wise, just and brave as Wellington was,

1 William Brown. The Autobiography or Narrative of a Soldier. (Edinburgh: 1829), 262-263. 2 Or a return to practice of the previous century. The Duke of Wellington wrote to Lord Castlereagh concerning the need for a Provost Corps: The authority and duty of the Provost ought, in some manner, to be recognized by law. By the custom of the British Armies the Provost has been in the habit of punishing on the spot (Even with death, under the orders of the Commander-in-Chief) soldiers found in the act of disobedience of orders of plunder, or of outrage. There is no authority of this practice excepting customs…I declare that I donot know in what manner the Army is to be commanded at all, unless the practice is not only continued, but additional numbers of Provosts appointed. Although Provost Marshalls were attached to Wellington's Army in 1809 he was unable to establish a regular Corps of Provosts until 1813. In that year the Staff Corps of Cavalry, the British Army's first military police force was founded in the Peninsula. 3 “Whipping is almost the only corporal punishment now in use.” Francis Grose. Military Antiquities Vol II.(London:1786), 200. 4 Both punishments involving tests of physical endurance. A picketed man had to balance barefoot on a sharpened stake for hours at a time while a man placed on the riding horse had to remain splay-legged for an equal period. Grose. Ibid. 202. The one alternative form of physical punishment still in frequent use during the period 1775-1837 was the stamping of a ‘D’ brand on deserters. See below.

63 suffer the people he was sent to deliver from the Napoleon to be robbed with impunity. No; he could not; he did not5 Military crime was after all the corollary of military justice. And some felt a loosening of the latter would merely provide encouragement to the former. Military crime itself was a more varied phenomenon than its punishment. It could take the form of neglect of duty, desertion, theft or even physical assaults on superiors. A look at patterns of military crime immediately yields two results. One is the ubiquity of alcohol related offenses. These are, however, notoriously difficult to quantify. Drunkenness as a primary charge is in fact comparatively rare. However, a mass of anecdotal evidence6 suggests that most offenses were alcohol related. The other, perhaps more interesting to a study of soldiers’ national loyalties, is the enormous decrease in the number of desertions amongst troops stationed abroad. This is particularly the case for regiments stationed in more distant, more alien environments. In India regimental court- martials were kept active, one authority estimating that an average British battalion sentenced defaultors to a cumulative 17,000 lashes during each six month inspection period7. However, desertion was largely unheard of. This dearth only involved those soldiers of a regiment actually serving abroad. Although 90% of a regiment’s strength was stationed in India it still sent out recruiting parties across the UK. And it was among recent recruits that the (often quite numerous) desertions occurred.8 A look at the geographical location of desertions attempted in the British Army between 1811 and 18159 breaks down thusly (Table 3.1):

Table 3.1 - Geographical Location of Desertions – 1811-15 Number of deserters Location of desertion incidents 6454 5196 UK (81%), 862 (13%), 396 Other Stations (6%)

A geographical distribution of incidents of desertion 1815-1819 is similar (Table 3.2):

Table 3.2 - Geographical Locations of Desertions – 1815-19 Number of Desertions Geographical Distribution 3065 2252 UK (73%), 505 Canada ( 16%), 308 Other Stations (11%)

5 John Cooper. Rough Notes of Seven Campaigns (Carlisle: 1914) 15. 6 Thus John Shipp: I have seen sixty men confined in one small guard-room, all in a state of intoxication; some reeling and tumbling about, some singing, some dancing, some swearing, some fighting, some quite naked, and some in a state of utter insensibility…the guard-room is a seat of vice where the drunkard glories in his shame. John Shipp. Flogging and its Substitutes. (London: 1831), 25-26. 7 Douglas Peers 8 The 11th Regiment’s record of deserters for the period 1811-15 lists the date of enlistment of both battalions’ deserters. All twenty-eight had enlisted within a year of their date of desertion 9 Some records cover shorter periods of time (as marked)

64 Patterns clearly emerge from this general picture. The United Kingdom was the posting in which desertions were overwhelmingly most likely to occur. There are a number of common sense reasons for this of which two are perhaps the most significant. First, of course, a familiar and sympathetic population within which a deserter could be absorbed. This is the reason why Canada was far and away the second most likely posting to witness desertion10. And why India was the least likely. Second, recruitment took place in the UK and recent recruits were the soldiers most apt to desert. Thus a regiment such as the 19th, whose line companies spent the entire period 1811-15 in Ceylon without an instance of desertion, lost 57 men to desertion in the UK; either from their depot or amongst the recruiting parties themselves. The decreased likelihood of desertion, and the correspondingly higher reliability of the troops vis-à-vis the local population in far-flung stations, is only the most obvious pattern. Another emerges from a look at Second Battalions. These were raised for war- time service for 80% of the regiments. They often served as a kind of super- depot for furnishing trained recruits for First Battalions stationed abroad. Having a Second Battalion to draw men from gave Regiments an overall advantage in recruitment; something of which officers on recruiting service for Single Battalion Regiments were keenly aware. In addition, they were often called upon for ‘aid to the civil power’ assignments; i.e. crowd-control. Usually Second Battalion recruits were short service, ‘seven year men,’ with hopes of eventually leaving the service11. In some cases they were allowed to enlist for home service only. However, they were more likely to be eligible to be drafted into First Battalions serving overseas. And occasionally Second Battalions were themselves posted overseas as a result of the exigencies of War. A number of Second Battalions with low desertion rates were in fact on active service much of the time, notably the 2nd/41st and the 2nd/78th. While the Second Battalions with the very highest desertion rates (such as the 2nd/71st) were more often on home service. The deserters from the latter battalions were frequently ‘sobered up’ recruits and individuals who feared drafting abroad. The extra-ordinarily high desertion rates for Single Battalion regiments in the UK comes as a result of the fact that their recruits inevitably faced being drafted into the Single Battalions serving abroad. Desertion was clearly the be-setting sin of troops on Canadian service, especially after the end of active hostilities with the in 1815 (see record of 1st/5th Regiment above)12. In no other corner of the Empire would you see a junior officer making a decision to re-enlist deserters from the British service who had entered the American Army and subsequently been re-captured13. Yet this is what happened at

10 British regiments in Canada suffered over 4 times as many desertions as those serving in the Peninsula (862 to 202), despite the fact that there were rarely more than 10,000 regulars in Canada (Wesley Turner. British Generals in the War of 1812. Montreal: McGill’s. 1999. 115) throughout this period while Wellington’s army never contained fewer than 30,000 British troops during the period 1811-14. 11 Wellington complained of “bad second battalions” whose “composition and discipline” fitted them better for home service. Wellington to Liverpool 19 Nov. 1809. Dispatches of F. M. the Duke of Wellington. John Gurwood (ed.) (Millwood NY: 1973) vol VI 424 12 The rate of desertion for the Army’s Canadian establishment as a whole regularly exceeded 5 percent in the period between the end of the War of 1812 and the removal of British troops in 1868. In 1857, 28 percent of British soldiers serving in Canada deserted. Carol Whitfield. Tommy Atkins in Canada. (Ottawa: 1981) 13 There are a number of cases of captured British troops joining foreign armies and then deserting back to their own army. This was a particularly notable phenomenon among British soldiers captured at Saratoga

65 Michilmackinac in July 1812 when Capt. Charles Roberts employed deserters Alexander Parks (Royal Artillery) and Redmond Magrath (5th Regiment) as drummers. In addition deserters in Canada occasionally went off en masse creating the possibility of combat between them and pursuing troops. This was a situation Lt. John Le Couteur nearly encountered in January, 1815: A Sergeant and Ten men of the 81st Regiment deserted last night with arms, clothing, appointments and 60 rounds ball cartridge. Sent off with thirteen men of a the Light Company and a Guide after them…I ordered my men, should we come on the Deserters suddenly, to desire them to surrender – if they hesitated, to give them a volley and charge them. The men’s arms were loaded ready for action14. Fortunately the only people Le Coteur’s party encountered were a force of on a similar mission. However, there nearly was a ‘blue-on-blue’ incident when the two ‘hunting’ parties ran into each other. They initially identified each other as armed deserters; not the immediate response to the sight of a fellow red-coat one would normally expect in the field. Over-all, desertion increased with the end of the Napoleonic Wars. This is clearly the case when regiments serving in the army of occupation in France are compared with regiments on active service in the Peninsular. There are no instances of Regiments in the Peninsula ever suffering desertion rates comparable to those of the 1st/7th Fusiliers in peace-time France. In addition to a loss of urgency and a relaxation of discipline that followed the end of the war there can be no doubt that British troops found the French ‘atmosphere’ and its relative affluence rather more amenable then that of Spain or Portugal15. Desertion was not the most common military crime; although records of its incidence are I believe the most revealing of the Army’s condition and its men’s feelings and motivations. However, we must look at a wider variety of crimes and punishments to obtain a more complete picture of the impact of Military crime on the lives of common soldiers. Military punishment became increasingly regulated and standardized through our era of study, largely as a result of the efforts of the Duke of York. In 1807 the King made a rare intervention in military affairs expressing “his opinion, that no sentence for corporal punishment should exceed 1000 lashes.16” Five years later regimental courts martial were restricted from inflicting more than 300 lashes.

(see chapter 2 above). Wellington’s Dispatches discuss an incident of a soldier captured while in search of wine who joined the French Army in order to desert back to the British (Vol. VII 213) However, these incidents were very different than those of deserters captured under arms in American uniform. 14 Donald Graves (ed.) Merry Hearts Make Light Days. (Ottawa: 1993) 15 Desertion increased somewhat yet marauding was less common among British soldiers in France than in Spain: “Marshal Soult is angry with the inhabitants for being friends with us. He is now circulating proclamations on our right, exhorting the people to form Guerilla corps and to turn brigands. If we continue to behave well, he will not persuade them to do this…Our army is behaving well,and now give me a little leisure occasionally.” Francis Larpent. The Private Journal of Judge-Advocate Larpent. (Staplehurst: 2000) 333. See also Lt. Blakiston’s description of harmony between British soldiers and French civilians in chapter two above. An anonymous veteran of the 74th recalled “…when we got the length o’France we liket the country folk fine. The Frenchmen were very kind to the British sodgers – ay, and the French lassies, too!” Greenhill Gardyne. “A Crack with an Old 74th Man.” Highland Light Infantry Chronicle. 1904. 148. 16 Henry Marshall. Military Miscellany. (London: 1846)

66 An important result of the reforms was the virtual disappearance of summary corporal punishment as records had to be maintained of all incidents involving breaches of discipline.17 This innovation marked a dramatic change from the era of the when the anonymous ‘Old Officer’ felt obligated to warn young subalterns: Never beat your soldiers; it is unmanly. Are they guilty of a crime? Make them prisoners; let them be punished legally by sentence of a court martial, and my life for it they will never repine. But to see, as I have too often done, a brave honest old soldier, battered and banged at the caprice and whim of an arrogant officer is really shocking to humanity: and I never saw such scenes but it brought to my remembrance the saying of a general, who seeing a young officer, perhaps the day of his joining the regiment, thrashing an old soldier, very probably for no other cause than to show his authority, or to look big in the sight of those who came to see him mount his first guard, called out at him: “That is very well done sir, beat the dog, thrash him; for you know he Dare not strike again.” This very consideration ought to be sufficient restraint from this practise18. The Old Officer also regarded summary beatings as deeply un-English. On this subject he reminded young officers: Some nations are brought up in so abject, so slavish a dependence on their superiors, that blows, nay even maims and death, are received by them with thanks, and they lick the feet, and kiss the rod of their tyrants. But it is not so with Englishmen; tho’ they do in some measure part with their liberty when they enlist, yet is the law still ready to screen them from violence, oppression and tyranny, as it was before they entered the service; To summarily strike a soldier was in the ‘Old Officer’s’ view a violation of Common Law traditions and of the nature of legitimate authority itself. This interpretation of the law was formally correct even prior to the Duke of York’s reforms. In Alexander Tytler’s exhaustive treatise on military law summary punishments are not mentioned let alone condoned. Tytler simply asserts that formal arrests must be made prior to any punishments being inflicted19. Unfortunately this restriction was not generally recognized prior to 1795.20 Pvt. James Aytoun’s account of his service with the 30th Regiment on Dominica from 1787-91 provides dramatic evidence of the frequency of summary corporal punishment in some regiments of the British army prior to the reform era that began in 1795. Aytoun had first served in the 9th Regiment, a corps serving on Barbados from which he was drafted into the 30th on Dominica. There were no summary beatings in the 9th. That this was not the case in his new regiment became abundantly on Aytoun’s day of arrival in Dominica:

17 At least in peace-time. Provosts in Wellington’s army, in addition to being able to summarily execute capital offenders caught in the act, could arbitrarily inflict limited corporal punishments of up to four dozen lashes. William Brown. Narrative. 241. 18 Anonymous. Cautions and Advices to Officers of the Army. (Edinburgh: 1777) 19 Alexander Tytler. An Essay Upon Military Law. (London: 1800) 20 Dr. Robert Hamilton alludes to the practice of caning. It was associated with the and he writes that: “I should be sorry to see an , so rigidly disciplined as a German one, though I am told that of late there have been some attempts towards it…These (the Germans) admit of the discipline of the cane on every slight occasion.” Robert Hamilton. The Duties of a Regimental Surgeon Considered. Vol II. (London: 1794), 76.

67 I was not highly gratified at meeting ten serjeants standing on the beach, waiting to receive the draft. The serjeants were armed with rattans. We had opportunity enough to see and know and feel for what purpose they carried them21. The rattan cane was used unsparingly in the 30th. During the regiment’s daily drill it was applied as a means to facilitate the manual exercises. If any individual soldier made ‘a wrong motion’ or neglected a step the regiment’s practice was immediately stopped. This might happen ‘twenty times’ in one morning’s drill as a single mistake “among three or four hundred men, was almost unavoidable.” And in every case an order was verbally issued: “Sergeants, draw your canes”. Aytoun states flatly: “the man who was so unlucky as to cause the exercise to be stopped was sure to receive a severe beating.22” The lack of uniformity of enforcement of British military law and the extraordinary discretionary powers of individual battalion commanders are made terribly apparent by the experience of Aytoun’s regiment. Major “Tommy Campbell” took command of the 30th in 1785 and introduced the practice of beating on his own authority. According to Aytoun on his second day in command Campbell, who affected a deliberately shabby appearance, was addressed familiarly by Private William McMillan. Campbell immediately drew his cane and administered a ‘good beating,’ while demanding to know “Who do you think I am?” From that time forward beatings became common and every sergeant sported a rattan: “hung to a loop from the bottom of the facing of the left-hand forepart of the regimental coat.23” Aytoun continued to serve in the 30th after its return to the United Kingdom. Canings continued apace until one private was severely injured by the battalion’s adjutant. The victim approached a civilian doctor and the latter complained. The soldier was honorably discharged from the regiment and given ‘forty guineas’ by the adjutant in an effort to avoid prosecution. From this time forward corporal punishment was inflicted only as the result of a regimental court martial. Aytoun credited the Duke of York and the coming of War with France with ‘stopping the tyrannical practice of caning’ for ‘the officers found that the men they were in the practice of beating were to be their only defenders.24” Private Aytoun was highly critical of officers such as Major Campbell and Adjutant Russell yet he was committed to England’s war effort and believed that reforms of military justice strengthened the Army for the fight25. Flogging could only be administered arbitrarily at the battle-front and then only by a Provost Marshal. Even the number of lashes that could be administered in this fashion was circumscribed; no more than four dozen. The punishment itself was notably uncontroversial in the 18th century. Dr. Hamilton's heartfelt exhortation: "I wish, after all, the military laws knew no such thing as flogging…I wish it with all my soul abolished, as an inhuman thing, more suiting the nature of savages than civilized and polished nations…” provoked little debate despite his expertise on the subject26. In 1809 a controversy did erupt over the flogging of a number of British militiamen in the town of Ely. The victims claimed to have been cheated of their enlistment bounties. They were

21 James Aytoun. Redcoats in the Caribbean. (Darwen: 1984). 6. 22 Ibid. 9 23 Ibid. 7-8. 24 Ibid. 41 25 Pvt. Aytoun's opinions of England's enemies and colonial subjects are described in detail in chapter Seven. 26 Hamilton. Regimental Surgeon. Vol. II, 81.

68 championed by William Cobbett, the former Sergeant-Major of the 54th, turned political journalist27. What particularly galled Cobbett was the nationality of the executioners. The British militiamen were apprehended and whipped by cavalrymen of the King's German Legion: …then, upon the appearance of German soldiers, they take a flogging as quietly as so many trunks of trees! – I do not know what sort of place Ely is; but I really should like to know how the inhabitants looked one another in the face, while this scene was exhibiting in their town…our ‘gallant defenders’ not only require physical restraint, in certain cases, but even a little blood drawn from their backs, and that too, with the aid and assistance of German troops. Cobbett was brought to trial for seditious libel. Instead of emphasizing the suffering (and, perhaps, extortion) suffered by the militiamen: ‘One listening to Cobbett’s argument. would have thought that the main issue in the case was whether German troops were brave or not.’28 The government secured a rare conviction, Cobbett spent nearly two years in Newgate gaol and the issue of flogging was tabled for the rest of the War (and well beyond). In addition to eliminating summary corporal punishment, another important innovation of the Duke of York’s tenure as Commander-in-Chief was the General Regimental Court Martial. This resembled a General Court Martial in that it required thirteen officers to sit but it could not inflict capital punishment and all officers sitting upon it were drawn from the same regiment as the defaultor29. The goal of the reform was to make punishment less arbitrary, however, as we shall see, although it may have regularized awards of punishment it did not mitigate them; rather the reverse Excellent statistical records exist for the results of these trials for the period 1812-15 and a close analysis provides us with a good overview of the incidence of relatively serious military crimes. And the means most frequently employed to punish them. All units in the pay of the British government featured in these trials; this includes Canadian Fencibles, Foreign "penal" Corps, all colonial units (such as the Ceylon Regiment and the Royal African Corps) other than those in the pay of the HEIC and 'embodied'30 British militia. There 176 such trials recorded in 181231. In these, 192 of the defendants were privates, 6 were sergeants, two were drivers of the and one each was a corporal and a bugler. 122 of the defaultors were sentenced to receive corporal punishment with a total of 76,200 lashes being inflicted; 625 per man. 14 of the prisoners were sentenced to unlimited general service abroad, 11 ‘seven year men’ had their enlistments extended to 21 years, 24 were sentenced to periods of solitary confinement ranging from seven days to six months, three were reduced in rank and 24 were branded with a ‘D’ in addition to receiving lashes32. One unfortunate soldier, Private Samuel Adams of the Canadian Fencible Regiment was branded and compelled to enlist for general service for life while forfeiting ‘all advantages as to increase of pay or pension.”

27 For the military background of this remarkable individual see chapter Seven. 28 This according to Cobbett’s most notably sympathetic modern biographer. George Spater. William Cobbett. Vol. II (Cambridge: 1982), 241. 29 Marshall 30 Militia mobilized for full-time garrison service in the UK. 31 Accounts of General Regimental Courts-Martial are drawn from WO 89 32 Such as in the case of Private Solomon Morris of the 4th/1st Regiment who was branded and received 800 lashes “for desertion aggravated by a previous desertion.”

69 Despite the fact that general regimental courts martial had been conceived as being a less arbitrary alternative to regimental courts martial only eight of the 192 defendants were acquitted. The majority of defaultors were infantrymen (99) followed by artillerymen (43) with only five cavalrymen being punished. 34 of the defendants were militiamen. They received a total of 6000 lashes for an average of ‘only’ 176. Eleven of the defendants served in foreign regiments garrisoned in the West Indies. These unfortunates received 9600 lashes for an average of 873. This figure helps validate the assumption that the foreign corps, largely formed of former POW’s, assigned to the ‘white man’s grave’ were under peculiarly draconian discipline. Only 32 of the defendants were serving outside the UK. On active service less time-consuming regimental courts martial (not to mention swift actions by the Provost Corps) continued to predominate. Only ten defendants were drawn from Wellington’s army, eight served in Jamaica, seven in Gibraltar, three in Cadiz and one each in Bermuda, Canada, and Madeira. No less than 143 defendants were charged with desertion. Six of these were explicitly described as cases of ‘bounty-jumping;’ i.e. a recruit deserting with his bounty money and then attempting to join another regiment. Three of the bounty jumpers were compelled to serve abroad for life while the remaining three were awarded 500, 600 and 1000 lashes respectively. These ‘scatter-shot’ sentences continue to reveal the vital role of discretionary power in military tribunals even during the era of the ‘Yorkist’ reforms.33 Only three soldiers were charged with the crime of theft of a comrade’s property. This crime was considered uniquely dishonorable; it was virtually the only one whereby a soldier could expect to be shunned by his fellows. The sentences for this offense were two awards of 700 lashes and one of 800. Three infantrymen who stole from officers (and in each case deserted as well) received 500, 900 and 1000 lashes respectively while Pvt. Joseph Dukes of the 16th Regiment received the ‘D’ brand as well. A cavalryman, Samuel Pensler of the 23rd Light Dragoons received four months confinement and a brand for ‘Desertion and robbing Capt. Spooner to the amount of 20 pounds.” The statistics for 1813 largely mirror those of the previous year. 281 defaultors were tried; twelve were acquitted. 87,900 lashes were inflicted on 155 prisoners for an average of 567 per man. Nine prisoners received the ‘D’ brand. 254 defendants were privates; in addition there were four sergeants, six , four drummers, three buglers, three lance-corporals, one bombardier, two rough riders from the Royal Artillery riding school and four drivers of the Royal Artillery. 210 prisoners were infantryman, sixty were gunners while only eleven served in the cavalry. 61 defaultors came from the militia; only 15 of them received corporal punishment for an average of 24.5% versus 59.1% overall. 38 defaultors served in foreign corps. They received a total of 19,220 lashes for an average of 739 per man. The rather misleadingly named York Light Infantry Volunteers, a foreign battalion serving on Jamaica, produced three defaultors who received 3000 lashes. The average of 1000 lashes per defendant is by far the highest for any unit with more than one case listed.

33 An even more remarkable incident of the use of discretionary power occurred in the 98th Regiment where Pvt. Joshua Burke was convicted of “Gross insolence to Lt. Col. Napier & disgraceful misconduct” yet received one “One Months’ Confinement.” One wonders what would have happened to Pvt. Burke in a battalion commanded by ‘Tommy’ Campbell!

70 149 trials took place in the UK, 42, in India, 21 in Jamaica, 21 in the Peninsula, 13 in Canada, 5 in Ceylon, 7 in Sicily, 6 in Gibraltar, 3 in Malta, 2 in Madeira and one each in New South Wales and Stralsund. The geographical diversity serves as a testimony to the surprising speed with which new procedures initiated by the Commander-in-Chief might be adopted. 151 prosecutions involved desertion of which 107 took place in the UK. Jamaica produced 12 desertion trials, India seven the same number as the Peninsula. Thus 72% of UK prosecutions involved desertion as opposed to 16.6% for India and 33% for Wellington’s army. The rule continues to apply that desertion was a crime that plagued the British army least when on foreign or colonial service. There were seven cases of bounty-jumping among the defaultors34. This offense usually required a calculating intellect so it is perhaps unsurprising that five of the seven were artillerymen. Gunner James McKain of the 6th Bttn. RA received a sentence of general service abroad for “Desertion and taking L2.10.3 entrusted to him & afterwards enlisting in the 71st Regiment.” Pvt. Charles Nugent (alias Monaghan), of the 2nd/91st Regiment was sentenced to receive a ‘D’ brand and enlist for unlimited general service abroad for “Desertion and enlisting in the First or Regiment.” Gunner William Jeffries received general service abroad for “Desertion and offering to enlist in the Navy.” Gunners James Smith and James Diverryhouse were awarded the same for “Enlisting in the E.I. Company’s service.” Only one bounty jumper faced the lash in 1813: Pvt. James Morrison of the Militia received 500 lashes for “Desertion and enlisting in the Berwickshire Militia.” 29 prosecutions involved theft but only five of these concerned stealing from a comrade. The sentences handed down for the latter offenses included two awards of 800 lashes, two of 600 lashes and one of four months confinement. Stealing from native inhabitants on foreign stations could bring even more severe punishments; Pvt. Michael Maloney of the 28th received 900 lashes for “sheep stealing” at Coria in Spain and Privates Samuel Ayser and Patrick Connell of the 1st/34th received 1000 each “for stealing and being absent without leave” in Secunderabad, India. One Regiment rather stands out in the returns for 1813. The 84th at Trichinopoly held trials for no less than ten defaultors between October and December. This was Pvt. William Nightingale’s regiment whose mutiny over the stingy distribution its rum ration is described in chapter Seven. It boasted a fine combat record in India and in the assault on Mauritius although one of its inspecting officer’s famously remarked that he wished many of the men in the navy where they could do less harm than ashore35. The regiment’s

34 The continued prevalence of Bounty-Junmping is confirmed by a War Office Circular of January 15, 1813 warning recruiting parties to beware of “’Trampers’ persons who can give no account of themselves, but proceed through the Country from one district to another.” These people were prone to “Enlisting with whatever Party will receive them, with the sole view of getting the Bounty and afterwards Deserting.” The Commander-in-chief advised that “Trampers” should be paid “only a moiety or even smaller proportion” of the Bounty until they had actually joined their Regiment.WO 30/85. 35 NAM manuscript 6112-78 contains all the highly expansive inspection reports of Major-General F. A. Wetherall. Reorting on the 84th at Bangalore on Feb. 17, 1813 he wrote; “There are some men in this Corps of the most infamous character, who for the honour of the service I wish were transferred to the Navy where they could not commit the crimes they are guilty of on shore.” There had been 147 courts-martial in the battalion over the previous six months. Pvt. William Nightingale described conditions encountered by the 84th in Central India in these terms:

71 ten defaultors received 5677 lashes for offenses that included: “Challenging a Serjeant to fight, drunk on duty & striking Serjeant Wilson,” “Abusing & striking a Corporal & entering the birth of a Serjeant with a drawn bayonet,” “absent from inspection. Disobedience of orders & making away with his regimental necessaries,” and “Being out of the Lines, using bad language & taking up a stone in a threatening manner.” Drunkenness plays a role undoubtedly akin to Banquo’s ghost in most of the incidents included in this list of offenses; unseen yet ever-present in the mind and actions of the defaultor. The general impression created helps confirm the notion that long-serving Indian veterans were apt to be very hard cases indeed. There were 190 regimental general courts martial of 192 defaultors recorded in 1814. The somewhat smaller number may be the result of de-mobilization. Few Second Battalions appear on the record and more regiments were listed without pre-fixes. 74,590 lashes were awarded to 114 defaultors. Three prisoners were marked with the 'D' brand. There were seven acquittals. 44 trials took place in the UK, 43 in the , 34 in India, 18 in Canada, 13 in Jamaica, 8 in the South of France, 4 in Ceylon, 4 in Martinique, 3 in Madeira, 2 in Pisa, 2 in Sicily, 2 in St. Thomas and one in . 167 of the defendants were privates; they were joined by 7 sergeants, 7 corporals, 2 bombardiers, 2 lance corporals, 3 drummers and 4 Royal Artillery drivers. 163 of those tried were infantrymen, 25 were artillerymen and four served in the cavalry. 17 of the trials were for militiamen; only one of these resulted in corporal punishment being awarded. The thirty defaultors from Foreign Corps received 16,600 lashes. In 1814 only 39% of the cases involved desertion. This relative paucity was probably the result of the reduced of recruiting following Napoleon's first abdication; fewer recruits meant fewer deserters. 21 trials for desertion were prosecuted in the UK, 23 in the Low Countries, 10 each from Canada and Jamaica, 4 in the South of France, 3 in India and 2 in Sicily. The relative prosperity of might have made it an attractive prospect for deserters. In addition, the Peninsular army was broken up rapidly in 1814; British troops in General Graham's army in Flanders remained on duty. All ten of the desertion cases in Jamaica featured defendants from Foreign Units. Once more the Indian garrison was under-represented; 18% of all trials were carried in India while only 4% of the trials for desertion took place there. Seven of the Canadian trials involved desertion including that of Serjeant Andrew Chapman of the New Brunswick Fencible Infantry who received 700 lashes and a reduction in rank for "Persuading three Private Soldiers to Desert."36 There was not a single instance of 'bounty-jumping;' further evidence of the slackening pace of recruitment. By May, 1814 bounties had dropped to 5 pounds for Guardsmen and 4 pounds, 4 shillings for Heavy Cavalrymen for unlimited service.37

…in this country, a bottle of spirits being only sixpence…it was unsurprising to hear to hear of the crimes committed through intoxication. The quarterly sessions generally witnessed some of the men brought up on a charge of stealing, gambling, coining, or unnatural crimes, and sent off to Madras to be tried. As regards myself, I was addicted to drunkenness as usual, and gambling was my delight. Through desire for liquor, the men disposed of their very clothing. – Joseph Parker (ed.) A Soldier’s Retrospect. (Banbury: 1854) 36 Pvt. Samuel Austin of the same Regiment was evidently one of them. He received 600 lashes for 'Desertion' on the same day as Chapman's punishment. There is no record of the other privates being punished. 37 The Military Register. May 1, 1814. Bounties for enlistment in the Line Infantry were correspondingly lower.

72 Twenty-six cases in 1814 involved theft, with five others prosecuted for receiving stolen goods. Pvt. Peter Connor of the 2nd West India Regiment stationed in New Providence received 800 lashes and pay stoppages for "Stealing from the Regimental Hospital sundry articles."38 There was a single incident of theft from a comrade. Lance Corporal Leonard of the 69th Regiment in Seringapatam provides the only example, for the entire period 1812-15, of an NCO assaulting a private; he received "900 lashes, 3 months solitary confinement & to be put under (pay) stoppages" for "Theft and attempting the Life of a Private." Offenses against foreign civilians resulted in a number of heavy sentences. These included: 1000 lashes each awarded to Cpl. Archibald Meachum and Pvt. John Dixon of the 1st/95th for "Plundering from an Inhabitant" in St. Simons, France; 1000 to Pvt. David Morton of the 2nd/78th for "forcibly stealing the watch of an Inhabitant" in ; 1000 to Pvt. John McGuilon of the 69th at Seringapatam for "Attempting to violate a Native Woman when he was on Sentry; and 900 for Pvt. James Lord of the 3rd/95th for "Mutinous Conduct & attempting to get into the House of an Inhabitant" in Grizzoles, France. There are 339 trial descriptions for 1815. 237 defaultors were sentenced to receive corporal punishment with 129,530 lashes being inflicted; an average of 642 per man. 27 'D' brands were inflicted. 25 defaultors received terms of solitary confinement and 47 were sentenced to general service abroad. 9 prisoners held the rank of sergeant, 1 lance sergeant, 4 corporals, 1 lance corporal, 4 drummers, 2 buglers and 1 served as a Royal Artillery driver. 296 defaultors were infantrymen, 19 were gunners and 5 were cavalrymen. The 44 defaultors serving in foreign corps received 33,070 lashes for an average of 751 per man. Militia prisoners received a combined total of 300. 95 prosecutions took place in the UK, 74 in Canada, 77 in France and Flanders, 28 in Jamaica, 19 in India, 10 in Gibraltar, 9 in Sicily, 8 in Martinique and the smaller West Indian islands, 7 in , 3 in Ceylon, 2 in Mauritius, 2 in Malta and 2 in Naples. Desertion figured in 213 of the charge descriptions including 57 of those in the UK, 49 in Canada, 42 in France and Belgium, 28 in Jamaica, 8 in Genoa, 8 in Gibraltar, 6 in Sicily, 4 in India, 2 in Martinique, 2 in Naples and one on Mauritius. 60% of UK prosecutions, 66% of Canadian prosecutions were brought for desertion versus 21% from India. However, the figure that stands out is that for Jamaica, where 100% of prosecutions were made for desertion. Foreign units accounted for 19 of these incidents. However, a British regiment, the 101st suffered ten desertions in 1815. These resulted in the infliction of 8250 lashes with one defaultor Pvt. William Dorrington receiving a total of 1500 for two attempts. A possible explanation (aside from Jamaica's relatively large European population and the presence of several good harbors) is desperation caused by the 101st's transfer from Canada to the plague station of Jamaica. There were three incidents of 'bounty-jumping' recorded for 1815. All the defaultors served in the West Middlesex Militia. Pvts. John Staples and Thomas Jones were convicted of "Desertion & Enlisting into the Life Guards" while Pvt. Samuel Staines was convicted of "Desertion with Money intrusted to his Care & again Enlisting." Each man was awarded "General Service for Life." Enlistment bounties did rise sharply in the aftermath of Napoleon's short-lived return to power.

38 Pvt. John McCarty of the 18th Regiment serving on Jamaica at the same time received only 600 lashes for "attempting to strike the Surgeon when on duty."

73 21 defaultors were convicted of theft, with five cases involving other soldiers' property. These latter resulted in the infliction of a total of 2250 lashes. Crimes against foreign civilians generally drew harsher official punishments.39 Two privates of the 2nd/73rd received 1000 lashes each for "Absent at Night, Fighting & committing a Robbery," while stationed at Coutrai. Pvt. James McCormack 0f the 54th stationed in the Bois de Boulogne received 800 lashes for "Quitting his Guard - Entering a House & stealing therefrom & wounding an Inhabitant." Pvt. Philip Gough of the 3rd Regiment received 800 lashes for being "Absent with an intent to commit Theft" in Buc, France. The punishments awarded in 1815 reveal the discretionary powers of military courts. Four defaultors, from the 2nd/37th Regiment, sentenced to receive 2800 lashes had their entire sentences remitted by pardon. Private John Mahoney had been convicted of "threatening to take the life of Serjeant McElroy" with a sentence of 500 lashes. Pvt. Thomas Rooney was convicted for being "Absent from Guard & striking an Inhabitant with his bayonet" and awarded 900 lashes. Pvt. Maurice Foley was convicted of "Disobedience of Orders & threatening the life of a Serjeant" and promised 900 lashes. Pvt. John Bath was convicted of "Mutinous & disrespectful conduct towards a Serjeant" and sentenced to 500 lashes. Lt. Col. S. Hart was responsible for this fit of leniency. He had commanded the battalion since its inception in June 1813. The 2nd/37th had been badly handled in its first engagement at Bergen-op-Zoom. a majority of its strength was either killed or captured. After Napoleon's abdication the battalion was reconstituted from POW's. Many of these were suffering from 'Walcheran Fever' (malaria). It was the weakest British battalion in Wellington's army in 1815 and had spent the entire in the garrison. Lt. Col. Hart was evidently committed to holding the reins loose when it came to military crime. Sadly he died of an accident in Antwerp in Oct. 1815, only a few months before the battalion's disbandment.40 Another discrepancy in sentencing that appears in the records for 1815 probably had little to do with personal indulgence. At Gibraltar on October 21, two corporals, a bugler and three privates of the 8th/60th41 were all convicted of "Desertion." Their sentences consisted of "General Service, & to forfeit all advantages (to pensions)" with the Corporals being reduced in rank as well. Nine days later, On October 30, six privates of the 7th/60th were convicted of the same offense at Halifax, . They were sentenced to 5200 lashes of which none were remitted. In two previous trials (May 27th and June 6th) nine privates of the same battalion had received 7200 lashes for the same offense42. The Halifax garrison was facing a plague of desertions and in this circumstance defaultors could expect little mercy.

39 Thefts from fellow soldiers often resulted in unofficial punishments from soldiers themselves in "company" courts martial. 40 One of the men he had pardoned, Pvt. John Mahoney, subsequently received 375 lashes for "mutinous conduct & using threatening language." 41 Although numbered as a Line regiment the eight battalions of the 60th Regiment were largely recruited from foreign POW's. The composition of the 3rd/60th in Jan 1813 included 35 English, 23 Irish and 985 foreign privates, the 6th/60th consisted of 57 English, 4 Scottish, 77 Irish and 788 foreign privates. These units were frequently deployed to the West Indies to allow British units to be spared the deadly climate; the 3rd/60th were stationed in Martinique, the 6th/60th in Jamaica. The 6th had lost 72 dead to disease in the previous six months. WO 27/112 42 Three of the defaultors took part in more than one desertion attempt. Privates Henry Diadeka, Nicolas Fotain and John Defo received 5000 lashes between them.

74 There are 1012 records of general regimental courts martial for 1812-15 in total. 628 (62%) of these resulted in corporal punishment being inflicted. 361,470 lashes were administered; only 37,559 were remitted. As we shall see this percentage compares very unfavorably with numbers of remittances granted in regimental courts martial; so much so that one is inclined to doubt that defaultors welcomed the introduction of the new, less arbitrary, procedure. The average defaultor received 575.6 lashes. 63 prisoners received the 'D' brand (6.2%). A total of 43 trials ended in acquittal (4%). 929 of the accused were privates or gunners. Of the remainder there were; 26 sergeants, 1 lance sergeant, 18 corporals, 3 bombardiers, 3 lance corporals, 13 drummers, 6 buglers, 2 RA rough riders, and 11 RA drivers. The Line Infantry accounted for nearly half of all defendants (504 - 49.8%). 140 were drawn from Foreign Corps. Only 25 were cavalrymen. Geographically the incidence of trials tends to support the conclusions drawn from the desertion statistics. The great majority of offences took place in the UK and desertion was the besetting sin of the Army "at home." The two evident exceptions; the great number of desertion attempts at Jamaica and the relative paucity of Canadian trials require some explanation. Jamaica, as stated earlier, did provide Europeans with an unusual number of opportunities to escape. In addition, it was a peace-time station with a consequently lax discipline43. In the Canadian instance some desertions may well have been punished rather more arbitrarily than was the normally the case44; and, besides, desertion attempts had a much greater chance of success in Canada then anywhere else in the British Empire. Asylum was literally just across the border. Thus, fewer deserters may have come to trial. And those that did were more likely to be brought to a General Court Martial; one that could inflict the death penalty45. Prior to 1812 regimental courts martial were empowered to oversee all non- capital cases involving men from the ranks. After 1812 they were liable to hear all cases calling for a punishment of 300 lashes46 or less. Examples of these according to Tytler include: “Abusive language, indecency, excessive drinking, being late and general slovenly marching.”47 They were far the most common variety of military trial being held by all regiments of the Army and requiring only five officers to serve as a jury. They were by no means arbitrary as: “The proceedings of all regimental and garrison courts martial must be accurately taken down in writing, either by the president, or by a member of the court appointed by him; and the sentence must be regularly signed by the

43 For a similar circumstance see Andrew Bryson's account of his desertion from Martinique in 1800 (chapter seven). 44 See Lt. Le Coteur's account above. 45 See account of executions in Kingston, (chapter seven). 46 In light of later efforts of apologists for corporal punishment to describe flogging as being no more inhumane than other penalties it should be born in mind that it was always regarded as the severest punishment short of death. Henry Marshall in “Military Miscellany” describes the “guard-house or black- hole” and “pecuniary fines” as “minor punishments.” Marshall 162-163. 47 Tytler. A list of regimental courts martial held by the 77th Regiment between May 16, 1809 and May 16, 1810 (WO 27/94) reveals the following breakdown:

Crimes Number tried per crime Sentences Absent without Leave 4 From 300-800 lashes Suspicion of Theft 11 From 300-800 lashes Unsoldierlike Behavior 34 From 50-800 lashes Neglect of Duty 18 From 400-800 lashes

75 president,48” and all sentences had to be approved by the Commanding officer of the regiment. The records of regimental courts-martial were kept by the respective regiments involved and after 1810 their results were usually attached to bi-annual inspection reports as well. The number of courts-martial could vary tremendously between battalions. According to the Inspection report of Oct. 19, 1809 describing the 1st/37th Regiment, stationed at home, there had not been a single court martial in the previous six months (“no courts-martial. Conduct of the Regiment is extremely good.49”). For roughly the same period the 2nd/47th Regiment, at Gibraltar, had seen “5 serjeants, 7 corporals, 5 drummers and 148 privates” brought before regimental courts-martial. Unfortunately the number of lashes inflicted in this plethora of trials is not recorded50. There was undoubtedly a greater opportunity for a Commanding officer to exercise his power of discretion in a regimental trial than in a general one51. A notable instance of this largesse is recorded by Sir George Prevost in his report on the 23rd stationed at Hailfax, Nova Scotia. From October 26, 1808 – May 31, 1809 there had been “32 courts-martial by which 101 men have been tried, 5 serjeants and 4 corporals reduced, 36,350 lashes sentenced & 5950 inflicted.” The report of the 1st/91st Regiment, stationed in Ashford, England for the same period reveals 2800 lashes awarded and only 950 actually inflicted52. Private Aytoun provides a memorable description of the exercise of judicial discretion by a commanding officer in an incident that took place in Dominica in 1790: We had a little short tailor. His name was Thomas Buchanan. He had been groggy for parade, was tried by a regimental court martial and of course sentenced to 100

48 Tytler 49 WO 27/ 94 50 WO 27/94 51 WO 27/92. A Regimental Surgeon could halt an execution as well: “should the punishment adjudged prove greater than it is his opinion the delinquent can bear without hazard of his life, he (the surgeon) has the authority to stop the Drummers at any period of it, and order him to be taken down.” However, as Hamilton points out the remainder of the sentence might legally be inflicted once the ‘delinquent’ had sufficiently recovered. Hamiton. Regimental Surgeon. II. 24. 52 WO 27/92 Not all Colonels were so indulgent. The 1st/8th Regiment, whose enlistment records are discussed in chapter One held 70 regimental court-martial between Nov. 22, 1810 and June 13, 1811 while stationed in Quebec. 56 of these trials resulted in the administration of corporal punishment. Of 11,900 lashes awarded 9524 were actually inflicted. Five defaultors received 300 lashes: Pvt. Patrick McInanny – For being drunk and striking Corpl. Higgeson Serjeant William Esmond – For unsoldierlike conduct – he was also reduced Pvt. George Carr – For making away with his necessaries & absenting himself from his regiment without leave. Pvt. William Dixon – For having a piece of soap in his possession which he could not account for and for disrespect for Serjt. Major Keegan & Serjt. Steele Pvt James O’Hare – Two awards of 300 lashes each (all inflicted) for: (1st) Highly disrespectful language to Serjt. William Shaw in the performance of his duty. (2nd) For disobedience in orders in refusing to attend the Field Exercise when sent for. The Inspector-General, Francis de Rottenburgh (the author of the British Army’s Light Infantry Manual and something bof a progressive) commented on the battalion: “The commanding officer, Lt. Col. Young is attentive to his duty and promotes to the best of his abilities the discipline of the Regiment. Yet it is my duty to observe that in some instances I have found his mode of carrying on the discipline of the Corps too arbitrary of which he now appears to be aware and has promised to rectify same.” WO 27/98

76 lashes on the bare back. When the punishment took place, the first drummer, whose name was Donald Stewart, began with his twenty-five lashes. The drummer had given Buchanan five lashes and Major Campbell thinking that Stewart did not stand up to his man in a manly way, called to Stewart, “Stand closer to him, sirra.” Buchanan looked round from the halberds and called to the Major, “O, God Dam him, sir, He is too near me. I wish he was five miles further from me.” Tommy Campbell ordered Buchanan released for the joke’s sake. Battalion commanders continued to exercise powers similar to those of Major Campbell throughout the period we are discussing53. Fortunately, as we have seen, they could no longer inflict punishment arbitrarily after 1795. A close comparison of regimental courts martial held and incidents of crime reported by two very different battalions may serve to help us understand the character of military punishment and the Army in general. The 75th Regiment was inspected by General Du Platt at Milazzo, Sicily on July 13, 181354. In the previous six months 71 men had received corporal punishment, although no sentence exceeded 200 lashes. Du Platt offered a defense of the battalion’s leadership and, in a sense, an explanation for the behavior of its rank and file: It will be seen out of the register of regimental courts-martial how many instances of drunkenness (41 specifically recorded) and other irregularity amongst the men have occurred by which it will appear that there must be some want of attention on the part of the officers. However, together with this I have to state that in the period of the preceding half year, this Regiment, being stationed, and on the march, in the interior of the country, where the soldiers could not be under so immediate, strict observation and the wine being so very cheap there and even given for nothing to the men, that thereby originate so many cases or irregularity; which tho appears very properly not to have been overlooked by the commanding officer of the regiment (Lt. Col. Swinton). Garrison service in a friendly country could hold nearly as many pitfalls as a military campaign. At the very least we can assume that the people of Sicily clearly appreciated their British defenders. Eight days later the 2nd/78th were inspected in Aberdeen by Major-General Alexander Gordon. In the previous six months 26 courts-martial had awarded 350 lashes of which 60 were inflicted. The inspector-general could barely conceal his enthusiasm over this record: My inspection of the Regimental court martial Books was a most pleasing proof, with what lenity and with what good arrangement the duty & discipline of this battalion is carried throughout the Corps. Sixty lashes only have been inflicted on the 78th in the last six months. The usual punishment afforded by the Regimental courts-martial is solitary confinement.

53 Writing in 1831 John Shipp asserted that: “Another ground on which flogging must be reprobated is, that its infliction depends greatly on the disposition or caprice of the commanding officer.” The infliction of any sentence was dependent on ‘the discretion of the commanding officer.’ Shipp describes instances where courts martial were averted by giving the defaultor an option of simply accepting the number of lashes prescribed by the Colonel or facing trial: ‘Most men would be inclined to look upon the prescribed amount of lashes as a mitigation of punishment and receive them accordingly.” 54 WO 27/117 for descriptions of both 75th and 2nd/78th Regiments.

77 In addition, the Commanding officer of the 2nd/78th, Lt. Col. Macleod was repeatedly praised for his studied leniency and his innovative spirit. Aside from their frequency of crime and corporal punishment there were other striking contrasts between the two battalions. The 75th was an old regiment in which only 10 men had less than one year’s service. 312 of its men were enlisted for life. It was a prime example of the national diversity that could exist in a regular battalion: 141 Englishmen, 254 Scots and 202 Irishmen. Despite the large number of veterans the dispersed state of the regiment affected field disciple adversely: “Privates – They require some drill and to be under a more rigid discipline which I suggested to the Commanding Officer.” The regimental accounts had not been kept for the previous four months, the book having been lost on a march between Messina and Milazzo. Finally, the newly instituted regimental school was being attended only “as far as the detached state of the Regiment will admit.” The 2nd/78th were a young regiment quartered together in barracks at Aberdeen. 232 had served for less than a year. 191 were under 20 years of age. Only 127 of the 456 privates were enlisted for life; the rest being ‘seven year men;’ probably drawn from the militia. It was the epitome of a national Corps; 444 of its privates were Scots as were all its 67 NCO’s. The inspection report of the battalion is unusual in describing the ‘confessional’ breakdown of the soldiers; 469 Presbyterians to three Catholics. The 2nd/78th was clearly a battalion tied closely to its recruiting district. General Gordon waxed rhapsodic about the qualities of the men: The privates are all young, healthy and improving young soldiers, and who, from steadiness and attention shown under arms would have led me to suppose had been of a much longer standing than they really are. Their conduct has procured for them the highest character for their sobriety, regularity and good conduct from the inhabitants of Aberdeen, and since I have been in command of the northern District not one cause of complaint has been laid before me or come to my attention. Quartered together in Aberdeen barracks their field exercise was “most highly correct & strictly attended to.” Unsurprisingly, “every attention is paid to the school of the 78th Regiment by Col. Macleod who seems to have a just idea of his Royal Highness the Commander-in-Chief’s wishes on this Establishment.” These two battalions were part of the same army. However, their conditions of service were so radically different that they seemed to be elements of entirely separate forces; call them the Home army and the Long-service Imperial Army. The condition (and conduct) of the 2nd/78th prove that the British Army of the era was not entirely composed of the most unsavory elements of society kept together only by the infliction of the most savage discipline. However, there can be no doubt that this battalion in its composition, behavior and even leadership were exceptional. This difference was also the result of its physical location. Col. Macleod and his officers enjoyed an opportunity to experiment without the concerns that accompanied foreign service. However, there is one further illuminating statistic concerning the two battalions. During its entire service on Sicily the hard-drinking, repeatedly flogged soldiers of the 75th lost only five men to desertion. During its period of garrison-duty in Aberdeen the 2nd/78th lost eight. This statistic may help level some of the distinctions between the two units. It should also stand as a tribute to the long-service soldiers of the British Army. These were men generally drawn from the poorest classes of their society, subsequently

78 marooned in foreign stations for years at a time while regularly enduring punishments that must dismay any contemporary observer; yet they stuck to their Colors. Few British soldiers could have served without having some experience of corporal punishment. All the memorialists of the period, whose works are of a significant length, describe incidents of it. Five soldiers, however, have particularly personal contributions to make concerning the practice; four actually were flogged and one administered floggings as a boy soldier. They were; Private William Nightingale of the 84th, Sgt. William Lawrence of the 40th, Pvt. William Brown of the 45th, Pvt. Alexander Somerville of the and Lt. John Shipp of the 22nd and 87th Infantry Regiments and the 25th Light Dragoons. William Lawrence’s regiment had first been committed to the Peninsula in 1808 and was engaged at Vimiero. It fortunately missed the Corunna campaign, however, being sent to Cadiz in 1809 to reinforce the Spanish garrison. It was in Seville, on the long march from Lisbon to Cadiz, that Lawrence suffered his punishment. While on sentry duty: I absented myself without leave from guard for twenty-four hours, and when I returned I found I had jumped into a fine scrape, for I was immediately put into the guard-room, and a drum-head court-martial55 was ordered on me. It was the first offense to be caused one to be held on me, but that did not screen me much, and I was sentenced to four hundred lashes56.

Lawrence adds that ‘he felt ten times worse on hearing this sentence than I ever did on entering any battle-field.” He felt deep despair and reflected with bitterness on his decision to flee his family and apprenticeship. However, these thoughts ‘soon lost themselves’ as he was marched into the place of execution; a convent yard where his entire regiment was assembled to witness his punishment. The sentence of the court- martial was read and Lawrence was ordered to strip: “which I did firmly and without any of the help offered me, as I had by that time got hardened to my lot.” He was tied to the halberds and the drummers commenced their business, “each one having to give me twenty-five lashes in turn.” Lawrence took the first one hundred and seventy-five strokes well but then: I became so enraged with the pain that I pushed the halberds, which did not stand at all firm, on account of their being planted on stones, right across the square, amid the laughter of the regiment. The colonel, I suppose, thinking then that I had had sufficient, ordered, in the very words, ‘the sulky rascal down,’ and perhaps a more true word could not have been spoken, as indeed I was sulky, for I did not give vent to a single sound the whole time57, though the blood ran down to my trousers from top to bottom.

55 A regimental court-martial held while a unit was engaged on a line of march. 56 John Bankes (ed.) The Autobiography of Sergeant William Lawrence (Cambridge: 1987) 57 Lawrence’s self-control was a source of pride. Compare this to Francis Grose’s satirical ‘advice’ to British Corporals: “When you escort a man to the field for punishment, you may let him drink as much liquor as he can procure. This will in some measure deaden the pain, and prevent him from disgracing himself and the regiment, by becoming what the drummers term a nightingale.” – Francis Grose. Advice to the Officers of the British Army (London: 1783) 68

79 Lawrence was helped from the square by a corporal who replaced his shirt over his eviscerated back and conveyed him to the regiment’s hospital. Lawrence recovered quickly and was able to accompany the 40th to Cadiz. Lawrence recounts his ordeal in matter of fact language. It was an event ‘not very creditable’ to himself but one which was “of too great importance as an event in my life to be omitted.” Critics of corporal punishment often decried its brutalizing effects claiming that a flogged man invariably became: ‘a burthen to himself and a disgrace to his regiment.’ Lawrence, however, recovered from its demoralizing effects well enough to rise to the rank of sergeant.58 In a memorable passage in his narrative Lawrence re- affirmed his commitment to the service by criticizing skulkers who avoided active service by remaining in Army hospitals rather than rejoining their regiments. When several of them rejoined the 40th: I remarked, ‘They seem to have been in luck’s way about their clothes, at any rate;’ and so they did, for whilst ours were ragged as sheep and as black as rooks, theirs were as red and as new as if they had never been on, and their shoes were to match, whilst our were completely worn out by our continual marches, the captain’s being quite as bad as any private’s. Despite his aggressive loyalty Sgt Lawrence was ambivalent about the Army’s practice of corporal punishment. His own flogging might well have been: “as good a thing for me as could then have occurred as it prevented me from committing any greater crimes.” However, “it was a great trial for me” as well, especially as the offence was his first one. A lesser punishment might have had greater benefit “on a man as young as I was.” He sums up by venturing to assert that “a good deal of that kind of punishment might have been abandoned with great credit to those who ruled our army.59” Private William Nightingale had first enlisted in the 84th Regiment in 1794. He was by his own admission an inveterate drunkard who had failed in a number of attempts to reform himself. He had had several brushes with military justice most memorably while on sentry duty in Bombay in 1809. Nightingale recalls that sentinels had to remain on their feet while on duty and if caught reclining they exposed themselves to “a trial by a court martial, and three or four hundred lashes.” He disobeyed the order and was caught by his captain and some other officers who had risen earlier than usual “for the purpose of shooting fowl.” The Captain had actually risen earlier than the other officers and in his night clothes and cap had been mistaken by Nightingale for a native. Thus the Captain had been able to approach to within feet of the reclining sentry without disturbing his repose. The consequences promised to be dire. Nightingale was brought before a

58 A rank he achieved under the eye of the Duke of Wellington. During the pursuit of the French to the Pyrenees after the battle of Vitoria Lawrence led a party of six volunteers who captured three French guns that had held up the British advance over a defile. The Colonel who had ordered his flogging four years previously complimented him, “ell done Lawrence; I did not think you wee half so brave, but no man could have managed it better.” Wellington who was accompanying the 4th Divisions vanguard complimented Lawrence, “and asked me my name, and on my telling him, said, ‘I shall think of you another day’.” 59 Lawrence’s Regiment had a distinguished battle record in the Peninsula and fought well at Waterloo, however their discipline could be lax. Wellington singled them out for criticism in a letter to their divisional commander on Dec. 17th, 1815 due to “serious complaints” from French civilians. He opined “The 40th can behave as well as any regiment in the army” or “as ill as any troops in the world” depending on the care shown by their officers. Unfortunately, Wellington believed a willingness to inflict corporal punishment was a quality of an attentive officer. Gurwood Dispatches vol XIV. 617.

80 regimental court-martial and “sentenced to receive three hundred lashes.” When asked to speak in his own defense he: “forged a lie to escape punishment, saying I had on a pair of new shoes which hurt my feet, and that I was merely stooping down to relieve them.” This gambit proved unavailing. However, the next day, Nightingale was summoned to the Colonel’s quarters and informed that, thanks to the efforts of his company commander, his sentence had been remitted. The colonel then admonished Nightingale against drinking and restored him to duty. This circumstance and the friendship of an abstemious young soldier named Lee led Nightingale to make a renewed effort at self-discipline. However, despite this he remained “addicted to drinking and gambling.” The hard-living 84th took a distinguished part in the invasion of Mauritius in 1810. Nightingale records an incident in the final action of the campaign, the British assault on Fort Louis: The soldiers were obliged to pass through a narrow lane, which admitted about nine abreast; at the top of the lane the artillery of the enemy was stationed. Many of the men fell by the shot that fell thickly about…In passing up the lane…a man we saw severely wounded; while lying in his own blood he exclaimed, “Hurrah! My lads, you will take Fort Louis today, but I will not see it.” One of the officers examined his wound, and shook his head in token of the man’s approaching dissolution…We succeeded in driving the enemy from his position. We took their guns, and pointed them against themselves. We halted for the remainder of the day, the enemy having retreated into the town. Throughout these proceedings Nightingale played an entirely creditable part, fortuitously denied recourse to alcohol other than the battalion’s rum ration and with no prospect of serious gaming. The next year the 84th were ordered to Bangalore. Here, “a bottle of spirits being only six pence” Nightingale resumed his earlier behaviors. As did many of his comrades: Among the various crimes induced by drinking and gambling, led to the untimely death of one of my comrades. A man named Rowley had been disputing with a fifer over their drink; when they returned to their barrack-room about nine o’clock, and the light was extinguished, the fifer reached his sword and nearly severed Rowley’s head from his body. Death was instantaneous. A general court martial only awarded Rowley three years solitary confinement, however, due to witnesses being ‘discrepant in their evidence.” It was shortly after this incident that Nightingale was flogged. Once more trouble began while he was on sentry duty: I was sentinel over the cookhouse; as the cooks of the Regiment were generally blacks, it was deemed desirable always to place a guard over them. When it was dark, I was determined, even at the hazard of severe punishment, to purchase a dram…Seeing no one in the cookhouse, I placed my firelock close in the corner, and made my way into the barracks, but I was watched by one of the blacks, who told the Drill-Serjeant that the sentinel was absent, and had left his piece in one of the corners. The Serjeant immediately accompanied him and took away the firelock…He met me going back to the (cook) house, and said, “Ah, Nightingale, you have done it now, there will be seven hundred lashes for you.” Nightingale was put in the barracks gaol alongside “no fewer than sixty of the other men” all on charge for drunkenness and liquor-induced offenses. He records that it was

81 impossible to hold so many courts-martial and the officers simply released most of the prisoners with “a slight punishment, such as extra-drilling.” However, he and another soldier, Serjeant Hull, were kept in gaol: “by this I saw clearly that punishment would ensue.” Nightingale’s friend Lee, now a Corporal, appealed to the new Company commander Capt. Nicholls but the latter “inexorably refused to accede” to the request. Lee offered the suggestion that Nightingale might feign illness to avoid punishment but the latter refused “knowing that the plan had been unsuccessfully tried before.” Instead: A court-martial was held, whereby I was sentenced to receive seven hundred lashes. I was brought up and received three hundred; the remainder was remitted, largely through the representations of the surgeon, who testified that my life would be jeopardized were more inflicted. Incredible as it may seem Nightingale’s career was largely unchanged as a result of this incident. Fifteen month later one hundred men of the regiment mutinied over its rum ration. Nightingale had no part in this largely because he’d been “drinking” constantly during the “four or five days” it was being planned. The mutiny, the execution of one of its ring-leaders and the subsequent, timely campaign against the Rajah of Karnool did have an effect on Pvt. Nightingale. As preparations for the final assault on the citadel of Karnool were being prepared Nightingale had a premonition of death and “the immediate prospect of entering the presence of my Judge, filled me with indescribable horror.” The 84th was to lead the assault on the breach and not even the comforts offered by the rum ration could ease Nightingale’s mind: When the time arrived, the signal gun fired, - to me it was the knell of death! My confidence seemed to leave me. Drink was brought; every man had his portion; I drunk as though it were my last. However, as the British columns were being drawn up the enemy fire slackened, then ceased. The Rajah of Karnool had been killed in the bombardment and the place surrendered without a fight. Nightingale’s fears were dispelled and “thoughts of eternal punishment no longer tormented me.” Subsequently although he “had frequently very serious thoughts about my previous life and present state” they “never ripened into action.” In 1818 after 22 years in India, the 84th was finally ordered home to England. Volunteers who wished to remain behind were drafted into other regiments. As a veteran of Indian service Nightingale was offered ten pounds to volunteer as well as other inducements: “The draft lasted nine days, and I was drunk five out of nine.” However, he chose to return to England. Perhaps appropriately, on the last night of the drafting he collapsed insensible on the barracks floor and severely cut his head. Nightingale was told by the assistant-surgeon of the 84th that had another soldier not discovered his prostrate form on the floor he would have bled to death. Nightingale sums up the experience by exclaiming: “I entered India as a drunkard and such I left it!” In April 1819 he returned to his village of Banbury after an absence of 24 years and immediately called on the Public House. However, shortly afterward he underwent a permanent religious conversion and joined the Methodist church. What is perhaps most remarkable about Nightingale’s narrative is the small role that the infliction of 300 lashes plays in it. His life in India was itself so thoroughly dissipated and the dangers associated with it so ever-present that the flogging becomes merely one incident among many. What stands out, despite the misery and the excess, is

82 that the 84th managed to do its duty well and that Nightingale himself never seriously doubts the legitimacy of authority. His opinions concerning Indian natives are intensely chauvinistic and the idea that England ought not be in occupation simply does not register. Flogging did not brutalize Private Nightingale, it was simply one other aspect of a brutal existence. Private William Brown joined the 2nd/ 45th Regiment out of “a restless spirit”; “Owing to the length of time I had been in Aberdeen, to me the place had lost all its novelty.” His experiences of military punishments began early in his career as both field officers of his battalions were enthusiastic practitioners of flogging. Brown’s can be both sophisticated and sarcastic as he exhibits in a description of an incident involving his Colonel, an individual: Nowise loathe to distribute a few hundred lashes among the boys, in a morning, by way of letting them know that they were free-born Britons, and in the service of Old England. But though the servants of His Majesty were obliged to submit to this degrading system, the people of England did not seem to relish it, and embraced every opportunity of showing their disapprobation. In the aftermath of a public flogging held in Sherwood forest, the people of Mansfield had constructed an effigy of the 45th’s Colonel and administered an “unmerciful flogging” to it. In addition, stones were flung at the battalion commander as he hastily marched his unit through the town. Shortly after this incident Brown volunteered to serve in the 1st/45th on active service in Portugal. He does not describe his motivation although he may well have gone to the Peninsula to escape the tyranny of his officers. In the Peninsula Brown was transformed and hardened. He increasingly came into contact with the authorities, both his Regimental officers and the Provost Marshal’s staff. There were intimations of this process early on, although Brown’s own record remained spotless until 1812. On the third morning of the march of the volunteers of the 2nd/45th from Lisbon to the camp of the First Battalion in Campo Mayor the men encountered a Portuguese couple selling bread from an oven-bakery. At first the soldiers bought the bread but soon an Englishman named Horsely, “who was by habit and repute a thief” rushed at the oven and “seized a loaf with each hand.” This led to general assault with the result that “the frail tenement was leveled with the ground.” The owner was helpless only “invoking the vengeance of Todas los Santos on the depredators.” The detachment’s officers now rode up and arrested Horsely; he was subsequently brought before a court martial and “soundly flogged.” The Portuguese was given some ‘remuneration’ and the troops marched off. Brown is generally critical of British military law but he does provide numerous examples of incidents that could justify harsh measures by the authorities.60 The retreat from Burgos saw the first incidents of his military career in which Brown faced the hard hand of the law himself. As his battalion retreated through Salamanca they witnessed the destruction of numerous stores recently captured from the French. The men were already in want of food but were prohibited from drawing any from these stores: “and it is more than probable if any individual had had the hardihood

60 While the army was encamped in the Lines of Torres Vedras near the town of Leiria Brown observed two British soldiers seize a heavily laden donkey from a peasant. The latter could do nothing but stood and stared as the animal was led away finally exclaiming: “Adeus, adeus, pauvre burrico – farewell, farewell poor donkey.” He then walked quietly away having no other recourse.

83 to have done so, the old salvo of four dozen from the Provost Marshal would have been his portion.” Brown was separated from his battalion during the retreat and faced the twin fears of capture by the French and the possibility of being accused of desertion. However, the sheer number of returning stragglers precluded any possibility of their receiving punishment. Brown describes his battalion: If it had been possible for a dandy volunteer or even a militiaman, to have got a glimpse of us at this period, it would never have entered his brain that we were the heroes of the Peninsula…our appearance would have made him believe we were deserters from the tombs, or a set of miserable wretches about to be sent there. The arrival of the 1st/45th at the sanctuary of Portuguese territory did not bring Brown’s vicissitudes to an end. In 1811 Brown had formed an attachment to a Portuguese woman from the border town of Albergaria. His battalion was rumored to be wintering in this village again in 1812-13. The 1st/45th actually marched into the town on their way to winter quarters but did not stop. As the battalion left Brown caught sight of Rosa. The effect of this devastating: “I reeled and staggered and falling out of the line of march, I sunk upon a bank that skirted the wayside.” A sergeant helped Brown up and ordered him to return to the ranks. Instead Brown ran off to his Captain and asked for an impromptu leave, promising to return to the regiment ‘ere night.’ The Captain refused this request. Instead of accepting the inevitable Brown ran to the head of the and accosted his Colonel. The latter, somewhat amazed and assuming the increasingly incoherent soldier was intoxicated ordered him “to be seized and taken to the rear guard.” Brown began to “rave, curse and swear;” he had to forcibly restrained. The next day Brown faced a court martial for “Insolence to the commanding officer, and others, and disobedience of orders.” Brown offered no defense: “I frankly stated that, considering myself guilty of the crimes laid to my charge, I had none to make, but threw myself on the mercy of the court.” The verdict was guilty with a penalty of 300 lashes. Brown heard the sentence but then made an impromptu plea to his captain. Brown had been the Captain’s servant for a year during an earlier period of the War. The Captain then formally asked for mercy which was granted by the Colonel with admonition to: “take care in the future; that if ever again I was arraigned it would not go so well with me.” After the rout of King Joseph’s army at Vitoria Brown secured a wealth of plunder. However, he and the other men of his battalion who had secured booty for themselves were forced to surrender it. The avowed aim of this procedure was to see the loot formally divided as prize money. Brown felt that he had been robbed of his just desserts taken from the enemy. He vowed that he “never forego an opportunity at aggrandizement, whether at the expense of friend or foe.” Shortly afterward, he had become violently ill with some type of ague. This struck him while interring the dead after the battle and this prevented him from keeping up with his battalion as it marched north to the Pyrenees. However, he was not in a condition to be hospitalized. Instead he was treated to the equivalent of a long furlough. By an extraordinary he was attached to the Provost Corps along with an old soldier of the 40th named Benson. The two of them succeeded in stealing a quantity of provisions from a British Army mule train. They then put themselves into business selling stolen goods, including the contents

84 of several wineskins to convalescing soldiers. This enterprise was carried on from a guard-house until the Provost noticed the great number of soldiers going to and fro: In the midst of the bustle in stepped the Provost, who, coming forward and seeing what was transacting, seized the skin, exclaiming, “You must be a damned old rascal!” and with it laid lustily about the chops of my confederate…at which our customers made their exit with the greatest possible dispatch. Although armed with arbitrary power, the Provost, (though a Provost), was a good fellow, and asked no questions; but after reprimanding me for allowing such numbers to enter the guard-house, he walked out with the skin in hand, of which we never heard more Clearly Brown had found a niche. Shortly afterward he, Benson and a young private of the 2nd were ordered to impress Spanish muleteers into service to transport allied wounded back towards Portugal. Despite his affections for the Portuguese Rosa, Brown had notably little regard for the Iberian peoples and his subsequent adventures bear striking evidence of this proclivity. The Spanish muleteers wished to avoid government service and thus followed round-about trails. Browne, Benson and the man from the 2nd placed themselves in ambush and waylaid civilian mule-trains. However, they did not immediately return with their quarry to the Provost. Rather they gave their prisoners an opportunity to buy their way out of their predicament: On our way back to the bridge, the Spaniards having consulted among themselves for some time, one of them came up and said, that he and his comrades would give use each a dollar, if we would let them go away with their mules – which offer was immediately accepted by my companions and I. This business venture continued until a party of muleteers decided to report the English marauders to the Spanish authorities. This expedient produced swift results. Two hours after Brown, Benson and their unnamed mate freed the muleteers the former were confronted by thirty Spanish soldiers led by an officer. The British miscreants were put under arrest in a manner that resonated of their own practices: They then proceeded to rifle our pockets, from which they took all they found in them…What money we had was also seized by the rogues…and I once more left poor and penniless; which situation, perhaps, some of my readers will think too good for me. Although the irony of the situation wasn’t lost on Brown he was infuriated by his treatment. He was informed by the Spanish officer that the two muleteers had reported being “detained and plundered by the lawless heretics” and that the three of them were going to be turned over to the British Provost. Before they could be sent off, however, they endured several hours in Spanish custody: During the whole of that time, we had to bear the taunts and reproaches of all the men, women and children in the village. Of one woman, who stood near with a pitcher of water, I asked a little to drink, but she dashed the whole of the contents about me. Notwithstanding, I had no resource but patience; yet, I thought, if ever an opportunity occurred, where time and place favoured…I would make some of her countrymen dearly pay for the insult. Before being returned to the British base at Vitoria Brown, Benson and the man from the 2nd were harangued by a Spanish field officer who was ‘seemingly greatly agitated with choler’

85 The three prisoners were marched in by the very Spanish troops who had rifled their pockets. Their sergeant informed the Provost expansively of the Britons’ crimes: He added certain items of a very aggravated nature, for which he had no foundation whatever, but which we were not permitted to contradict – it being the inevitable practice with our officers in the Peninsula, to believe any charge that might be preferred against us by a native. The Provost threatened Brown and Benson with hanging and then had them sent to the guard-room as prisoners. There Brown had little time to reflect on his “folly and wantonness” before the provost and the British town commandant entered the cell. Brown was informed he was to receive ‘a damned good flogging.’ Brown’s response helps reveal much of the context of the times in which he lived: “At the hearing of this I sprung to my feet overjoyed, for I well knew that without a previous trial, they could give us no more than four dozen each, which was but a trifle to hanging.” Benson received twenty-four lashes and the young soldier of the 2nd an even dozen before the ‘lash flew off the shaft’ and Brown found himself back in the guard- room with the opportunity to contemplate his punishment for another twenty-four hours. When the time came Brown attempted to appeal to the Provost on grounds of his prior service but the latter stated ‘he was bound to do his duty.” However, perhaps as a result of their earlier ‘collaboration,’ the Provost ordered Brown to be cut down after receiving “only” nine lashes. Brown was angry with ‘the knights of the epaulet’ who believed that ‘flaying the back, and making the flesh and blood fly has done much for the army.” However he was ‘mortified’ ‘to see the Spaniards who had brought us in, standing with a demoniac grin on their countenance, and inwardly feeling satisfaction at our degradation.” The next day Brown, Benson and their accomplice were sent to join the Allied field army in the Pyrenees as part of a column of four hundred reinforcements. They were led by a young officer, ‘a man of a humane and feeling disposition,’ fresh from England who had little experience of military criminals. Thus, when Benson, Brown and several other former prisoners claimed to have gone lame he believed them and left them with a sergeant who was ordered to procure a wagon for their conveyance. The latter had no illusions; as soon as the officer had departed he informed his charges “whatever you do, I hope you will hurt no person.” He then gave them free reign. The first Spaniards to be ‘eased of their burdens’ were peasants bringing bread to the Army commissariat. The British “invalids” then shot a pig at a farmhouse and seized and killed a sheep from a shepherd’s flock. They then marched to an Inn and had the meat dressed at the same time calling for ‘a quantity of wine.’ This was provided for them by the Inn-keeper in whose establishment they spent a pleasant afternoon. The bill came in the evening. Instead of merely ignoring their host the ‘detachment’s’ sergeant assured him that they were part of a larger force and that a British commissary would soon arrive and pay all that was owed. Shortly after this the party marched north rejoining the main detachment before the next morning; thus at least allowing the young officer to maintain his illusions. Brown appears to have called it even with the Spanish people after this incident as he describes the fighting in the Pyrenees with little reference to the native population. Once in France, however, he does describe several plundering incidents (notably the one with which this chapter opens) in which he did not, however, play a part. Brown’s narrative once more we reveals the importance of xenophobia as a motivating factor even

86 for a soldier who had deliberately flouted military law and convention. Brown castigates his superiors but he never seriously contemplates revenge against them His resentment towards the native inhabitants of the Peninsula were both more intense and more easily satisfied. Brown’s resentment of authority never becomes open rebellion while his dislike of the Spanish is not merely expressed but acted upon. The infliction of corporal punishment by a British provost serves more as a goad to action against the Spanish than as a cause of lasting resentment against the British Army. Alexander Somerville entered the British army in 1831. This was twenty-two years after the first public campaign against flogging. Somerville would help inaugurate a second. He was an unusual young soldier; well-read and with literary ambitions. In addition, he read voraciously of the newspapers discussing the Reform Bill crisis then dominating British politics. His Regiment was based in a center of pro- Reform sentiment in the North of England. Somerville wrote a series of letters, apparently on behalf of a number of troopers of the Greys assuring the townsmen that: "If you do nothing but make speeches, sign petitions, and go peaceably to present them, though you go in tens of thousands, the Greys will not prevent you." This campaign culminated in an anonymous letter to the Birmingham Weekly Dispatch, published on May 27, 1832, claiming that: "The Scots Greys have honourably secured a high character in defense of their country, and they would be the last to degrade themselves below the dignity of British soldiers, in acting as the tools of a tyrant." This assertion of radical patriotism was hardly likely to endear its author to the officers of his Regiment. The next day Somerville was ordered to walk a horse to the regiment's riding school. He did so without his boots and spurs. On reaching the school he was ordered to mount the animal. a hesitation provoked outrage on the part of the riding-master who proceeded to order Somerville to mount and dismount the horse several times, causing the animal to become agitated. Somerville was then ordered to ride without stirrups as a punishment. Increasing difficulties with his animal induced Somerville to dismount without orders. He then refused to return to the saddle and was arrested. The next day the Commanding Officer, Major Windham spoke with the prisoner. In a subsequent Parliamentary Court of Inquiry the Major admitted to the statement: "I am afraid my lad you are fond of writing to newspapers,' and informing Somerville that the latter had "no right to comment on the conduct of your regiment…you have written a libel on your regiment." He also inquired of Somerville as to the names of any soldiers who concurred with his sentiments. Somerville refused to answer but instead engaged with an exchange with the Major over the comparative powers of the King, Parliament and the People. He was then returned to the guard-room. On May 29, Somerville faced court-martial for: highly unsoldier-like conduct on the morning of the 28th instant, in dismounting without leave, when taking his lessons in the riding school, and absolutely refusing to remount his horse when orders to do so. The subsequent trial lasted less than two hours and resulted in Somerville being sentenced to receive 100 lashes. Somerville wrote that he particularly angered his Major by refusing to show a sign of contrition or asking for remittance. In his words: "If a soldier of manly dignity omits to perform this dog-like cringing, and does not whine and beg to be forgiven, he is looked upon without favor, it may be with enmity." Although many aspects of Somerville's case are clearly unusual, this assertion is supported by the

87 evidence of Lawrence, Nightingale and Brown, among others; it was expected that a common soldier would plead for remittance. Stoicism was expected only at the halberds themselves. Somerville describes his flogging in far more dramatic terms than the other three soldiers whose narratives we are discussing. He records that an old trumpeter named Charles Hunter smuggled rum into 'the black hole,' Somerville's solitary confinement cell. Somerville responded to this gesture by asking "What do you mean by offering me rum? You have not seen me drink liquor of any kind." Hunter helpfully responded: All soldiers try to do this for one another, I have known men drink a pint of rum, and go and take their punishment like men.' 'Not one drop for me' said I firmly…"But I have known men sing out dreadfully when punished; if they had got enough rum, it would have supported them and they would not have sung out.' 'Not one drop for me Charley Hunter I shall not sing out…' Somerville was flogged that same day, entirely sober by his own account. He describes the experience in detail: I felt an astounding sensation between the shoulders, under my neck, which went to my toe-nails in , my finger nails in another, and stung me to the heart, as if a knife had gone through my body…I felt my flesh quiver in every nerve, from the scalp of my head to my toe nails…I put my tongue between my teeth, held it there, and bit it almost in two pieces. What with the blood from my tongue, and my lips, which I had also bitten, and the blood from my lungs or some other part ruptured by the writhing agony, I was almost choked and became black in the face. The only words Somerville spoke were directed at the third drummer who apparently did not relish his task; he interjected: "come quicker on Simpson, and let it be done you are very slow." After one hundred lashes were administered Major Windham halted the punishment stating that Somerville was 'young soldier' and had had enough. This incident caused something of a sensation61 and was the subject of a formal Court of Inquiry convened by the new Reform government of Lord Grey. William Cobbett whose championing of the Ely militiamen had brought flogging to the public eye in 1809 championed Somerville. His supporters succeeded in buying him out of the Army with a sum of 50 pounds raised by contributions. Somerville himself wrote newspaper articles denouncing flogging and supporting political reform. The Somerville cased helped spur a further formal Parliamentary Inquiry into the practice of corporal punishment itself. Both the court of Inquiry and the formal investigation, however upheld Somerville's superior officers and the Army's practice of corporal punishment. Somerville pursued a journalistic career subsequent to his trial. He served with the anti-Carlist army in Spain later writing one of the few accounts of the British Legion's service in that . Later he would break with his radical supporters denouncing the libertarian economics of Cobden and Bright and vociferously supporting the government during the Crimean War. His earlier sentiments had invariably been expressed in highly patriotic terms. Unfortunately his unequivocal break with the Radicals left him as an odd man out and he was eventually forced by financial difficulties to emigrate to Canada.

61 The Duke of Wellington feared that the Somerville case would be “taken advantage of by the (radical) party to shake the system of discipline of the army”. John Gurwood (ed.) Dispatches of F. M. Arthur, Duke of Wellington (continuation) vol VIII. (Millwood: 1973) 368

88 Here he continued to pursue journalism with mixed success, passing away only in 1885, a minor Canadian celebrity. I have discussed John Shipp’s unusual military career in two other chapters. However, in addition to his military exploits he is also the only soldier to discuss the practice of flogging from the point of view of the executioner. This does not imply that he sympathized with the practice; quite the contrary. However, his view of it is nonetheless unique. He recalled: From the very first day I entered the service as drum-boy, and for eight years after, I can venture to assert that, at the lowest calculation, it was my disgusting duty to flog men at least three times a week. From this painful task there was no possibility of shirking, without the certainty of a rattan over my own shoulders by the drum-major… He describes the process by which each boy, like the prisoner, stripped to the waist and then inflicted twenty-five lashes in relays. He described the practice of both parties stripping as ‘something so unnatural, inhuman and butcher-like’ that it degraded the drummer quite as completely as the prisoner. The mechanics of the procedure were predictable: After a poor fellow had received about a hundred lashes the blood would flow down his back in streams, and fly about in all directions with every additional blow…so that by the time he had received three hundred, I have found my clothes all over blood from the knees to the crown of my head, and have looked as though I had just emerged from the slaughter house. Shipp does not describe there being any special onus on drummers as a result of this practice. However, he personally was ashamed and hid for the rest of the day in the aftermath of a flogging. As to the ‘Cat’ itself, Shipp points out that there was no uniform model. However, the instrument used in the 22nd Regiment was made of a ‘thick and strong kind of whipcord.” Each lash was two feet in length with three knots tied in it: “so that a poor wretch who was doomed to receive one thousand lashes, had twenty-seven thousand knots cutting into his back.” He was unsure of its exact weight62 but he felt that it had “almost weight enough to stun an ox, and requires the greatest exertion and dexterity in the drummer to wield it.” Shipp provides a number of descriptions of floggings he had carried out or witnessed including one on two brothers, boy soldiers in the 22nd, the ‘elder of which was not more than thirteen years of age.” They each received six dozen lashes and according to Shipp in the aftermath there ‘were not two greater reprobates or vagabonds in the whole corps.” In 1808 Shipp was stationed on with the 87th Regiment. The 8th/60th Regiment was garrisoned alongside them. This battalion was formed largely from French POW’s; “many of these men deserted, and most were taken in the attempt.” The sentence was invariably one thousand lashes without remittances. In addition the Punishment was made more terrible on these occasions by there being a set interval of twelve seconds between each blow. This allowed each to be felt afresh by the defaultor63. And each session required three hours and twenty minutes to inflict the total punishment.

62 A cat-o'-nine-tails used by the Coldstream Guards and preserved in their museum weighed in at three and one-half pounds. Whitfield 63 Dr. Hamilton was of this opinion: “The pain also becomes less from the numbness that takes place by constant flagellation for perhaps half an hour at a time. Hamilton. Regimental Surgeon. II. 27.

89 Frequently, in a British battalion, when a prisoner fainted the remainder of his lashes were remitted. Not so in Jersey: Many of these poor creatures fainted several times from intensity of bodily suffering; but having been restored to their senses by medicinal application, the moment they could move their heads the castigation recommenced in all its rigour! Numbers of them were taken down and carried from the square in a state of utter insensibility. Shipp believed that these extraordinary punishments did not deter the soldiers from deserting but merely subverted the ties of discipline throughout the garrison by inspiring feelings of horror and disgust among the soldiers. Shipp argued against corporal punishment on the grounds that it was a blot on Britain’s national honor as well as a moral outrage. Why was flogging not considered to be a necessity in the French Army? Could it be that British soldiers were perceived as lacking a ‘higher sense of honor?’ If this was the case than Shipp argued it was the British soldiers who at fault; rather it was the pernicious system of corporal punishment itself. Frech soldiers were encouraged to consider themselves to be “a people far above the common peasantry.” British soldiers, however, were stigmatized by the ‘ignominy of lash’ as lesser beings than their fellow countrymen. Restraint and self-discipline would manifest themselves in British soldiers only when the threat of the ‘Cat’ was removed64. Flogging was formally abolished in 1868 as a mode of punishment for peace-time military offenses. In practice it had been abandoned by most Regiments prior to that year65; although soldiers were still liable to be flogged on active service until the time of the Boer War. However, during the period addressed by this study it was truly ubiquitous. In a sense the British Army has become identified with the practice. What must be born in mind when considering military punishment, however, is its motive. What is strikingly absent from all the accounts I have studied is the notion that the lash was a motivating force in combat. The Duke of Wellington was often harshly critical of the men under his command but even he opined:

64 The Duke of Wellington was a determined proponent of flogging. His defense of the ‘Cat’ is strikingly similar to Shipp’s condemnation of it. Wellington stated flatly that “the discontinuance of corporal punishment followed the establishment of conscription in France.” A volunteer army composed of men whose enlistment was “in 99 instances out of 100” brought about by “some idle or irregular, or even vicious motive” needed corporal punishment. In addition, British soldiers were Regulars; they were “liable to be sent to any part of the world, not for the defence of the land of England, but of a colony or settlement – or for the conquest of a colony or settlement, or for the defence or for the conquest of foreign territory” and could only be recruited from individuals willing to serve “at moderate pay in unwholesome climates, at great distances, and risk to life and health.” Such individuals would not respond to normal blandishments. The British recruit was a man whose “inclinations are all to be thwarted and his habits altered, not by precept and example only, but by constant attention, observation and exertion; and the severity, if necessary, of those placed over him, to remove those irregular or vicious habits, or propensities, the hopes of the indulgence in which induced the recruit to volunteer his services.” Under strict discipline (left entirely if possible in the hands of “its superior officers”) British soldiers were “the best soldiers in the world;” without it they would be a mob. “Memorandum on Corporal Punishment.” Gurwood. Supplementary vol. VIII. 233-239. 65 One incident in Private Somerville's narrative of his flogging inadvertently reveals the declining incidence of the practice. The Cats used by Somerville's regiment were kept in pristine condition in a bright green bag. The appearance of the bag signified that punishment had been awarded. Shipp, Dr. Hamilton and others describe the 'Cats' of their day as being literally kept caked in blood from frequent use and the ubiquity of their employment would have made any attempt at such 'dramatic entrances' otiose.

90 There is not much difficulty in posting a British Army for a general action, or in getting the officers and men to do their duty in action. The difficulty consists in bringing them to the point where the action can be fought…These exertions require order and discipline among the men66. And it was of this latter quality that Wellington so frequently despaired. It is unfortunate that he was never able to come to the realization that the lash might not be the best means of preventing drunkenness or of protecting civilians from the depredations of soldiers. However, in judging Wellington and other advocates of corporal punishment, we must bear in mind that these were their aims. They did not need the lash to induce British soldiers to fight for their country.

66 Antony Brett-James (ed.) Wellington at War.(London: 1961) 291

91

IV. “…TO CONCILIATE THE INHABITANTS” National and Religious Feeling among the Soldiers of the Peninsular Army “…the Inquisition. ‘tis a cursed place” added the Corporal shaking his head. “When once a poor creature is in, he is in, an’ please your Honour forever.” “‘Tis very true” said my Uncle Toby.

The most famous fictional common soldier of the 18th century, Laurence Sterne’s Corporal Trim from “Tristam Shandy” had an aversion to Spain; his brother was a prisoner of the Inquisition. Although Sterne’s characters are comic ones it is hardly surprising that he chose the Inquisition as a ‘stock’ in his account of Cpl. Trim’s own ‘Life and Opinions.” In many ways Britons of the period defined themselves against their idea of Spain. This was notably the case in regards to religion. Even in the 18th century Spain was understood as the embodiment of a militant Catholicism; perhaps especially so by the least sophisticated members of British society. Thus the Peninsular War brought about a truly unusual reversal of alliances. British troops would find themselves allied to the Spanish Army, the Spanish people and even the Spanish church for six years of War. How this situation affected them and the ways in which traditional British ideas of Spain governed their behavior is the focus of this study. The Peninsular War has been described, without great hyperbole, as signifying the rebirth of the British Army. This is a judgment made with the failures of the American War of Independence and the campaigns of the 1790’s very much in mind. And the experience of victory in the Peninsula indubitably marks a contrast to the earlier defeats. However, the Army of the earlier period in many ways resembled that of the Peninsula. It was recruited largely from the same classes of society; the only great difference being the prevalence of militia enlistments into the Regulars after 18071. The officer corps as well continued to be drawn from men of a different class from the rank and file; however, as we have seen the reforms of the Duke of York did eliminate some of the worst abuses of the purchase system2. The Army’s system of discipline had been partially reformed with the elimination of summary corporal punishments although the cat-o’-nine-tails remained the most frequent tool of punishment. In the realm of military tactics the introduction of Rifle Corps such as the 95th did much to enhance the British Army’s skirmishing ability yet the victories won in the Peninsula were generally those of the traditional Line of Battle over the manueverable assault columns of the French Army. In its supply system the British attempted to feed their troops from their own commissariat rather than relying on foraging expeditions in the manner of the French. Thus the British Army had been reformed but never revolutionized. It might almost be asserted that the British victories in the Peninsula were gained by an Eighteenth century Army over those of the French Revolution. In that sense it is appropriate that the Peninsular Army’s commander was himself a military conservative, perhaps the greatest commander to leave scarcely any tactical, technical or administrative reforms in his wake. The course of the Peninsular campaign needs to be described before turning to the experiences of common soldiers in it. In May of 1808 massive uprisings took place

1 See chapter One 2 See chapter two

92 throughout Portugal and Spain against occupying French armies and the puppet governments they were in the process of establishing. The British government, which had helped the Portuguese Royal family to escape in the aftermath of the French invasion chose to intervene on behalf of the rebels. A British force under Sir Arthur Wellesley was landed in Portugal; after a successful battle at Vimiero this Force succeeded in compelling a French evacuation of the country. A controversy erupted over the terms of this evacuation and Wellesley was temporarily recalled. Sir John Moore then marched a British Army into Spain in hopes of driving the French from that country as well. This movement was to be carried out in close cooperation with the Spanish armies. These latter, however, were largely dispersed by the French (led now by Napoleon himself) by the time of the arrival of the British Army in Central Spain. Moore’s army then had to rapidly retreat to the Port of Corunna for evacuation. This costly retreat, during which the British army was very nearly destroyed is of vital importance in understanding two permanent facets of the Peninsular War. First the fact that it was a coalition war in which Britain’s involvement was predicated on the support of both Portugal and Spain. The British Army could never liberate Spain by its own efforts3; it needed Spanish support. However, the failures of the Spanish regular armies were a ubiquitous fact and these debacles must be recalled when discussing the unflattering opinions held by the British soldiers of their Allies. Secondly the relative poverty of the Spanish countryside was made apparent to the British along with the absolute necessity of providing troops with food through the Army’s own Commissariat. And there could be little question of living off the land for another reason. The active support of the Spanish and Portuguese civilian population was a necessity. Once active, popular resistance to the French came to an end so would the British presence in the Peninsula. British commanders could not allow the perception that their men were more dangerous than the French to take hold among the peasantry. Thus British troops who committed acts of plunder would face the most savage penalties in the name of conciliation between Allies. This too must be born in mind when discussing the attitude of common British soldiers to the native populations. The former were regularly brought to the halberds by the verbal complaints of the latter4.

3 One of our memorialists acknowledged this weakness though only grudgingly and with caveats: "There can be no doubt that if he (Wellington) had had as many troops as the French, he would long ago have driven them out of Portugal, and perhaps Spain as well…But he actually had only half their number that he could depend on, and these (the British troops) were sometimes not fit for service from want and other privations…" Lawrence. Autobiography, 96. 4 Sgt. John Westcott, the Drum-Major of the 26th Regiment records the following pronouncement that he was ordered to read to the battalion prior to its disembarkation at Lisbon in 1811: Lt. Col. Maxwell thinks it here proper tho he hopes it may be unnecessary to remind the soldiers that they are about to land in the country of an ally and they will endeavour to conciliate the inhabitants by a respect to their manners and religion and a scrupulous honesty in their dealings with them. Any deviation from this line of conduct will evince a total want of every good principle. The Commanding Officer is determined to resist it with the most exemplary and severe punishments. Journal of John Westcott. British Library. Add. MSS. 32468 An anonymous veteran of the 74th Highlanders recalled that if a Spanish peasant could produce a button belonging to a British soldier “the regiment that button belonged to had to pay the loss.” The veteran further recalled that the Irishmen of the 88th (“they can fecht weel eneuch, but they’re awfu’ thieves”) “would a button aff another man’s big coat…an if they were catched by a strong party o’paysans, an’ couldna get clear, they just handed oot a button o’ anither regiment.” He attributed a man of

93 The Peninsular War was actually two quite distinct struggles. One waged between Anglo-Portuguese and French regular armies and one waged by the French army and Iberian guerrillas. The war between the armies was enormously costly and featured some of the most intense fighting of the entire . However, it was conducted according to rules of War similar to those that governed the ‘limited’ ward of the 18th century. The British and French took pride in maintaining the ‘amenities’ of such a conflict; decent treatment of prisoners, frequent truces, even friendly interaction between the two sides during ‘quiet’ periods5. The other war was marked by no such restraints. The French and their partisan enemies sought to exterminate each other. British memorialists are quick to delineate the differences between the ‘two wars.’ The descriptions offered of French and Spanish atrocities help to distinguish their own behavior from that of both Enemies and Allies. However, the frequent confrontations between British soldiers and Spanish civilians seriously undermined this distinction. British accounts leave the reader with the impression that British soldiers were viewed with scarcely any greater affection by the inhabitants of the Peninsula than the French invaders. The tensions that existed between the British soldiers and their Spanish allies built a wall between Wellington's Army and the civilian population. Confrontations often took place in the form of resistance to plundering by the British troops. Naturally such incidents were detrimental to the Allied war effort, however, the antipathy felt by British soldiers to the Spanish might be useful as well; in solidifying a sense of . An example of anti-Spanish feeling being utilized by the Army is recorded by Sgt. Joseph Donaldson of the 94th Regiment. During the blockade of Pamplona in 1813 a detachment of the 94th were placed on picquet duty, relieving Spanish troops. On the first night a heavy rain fell and the British soldiers muskets became rusted: "Being fatigued they had neglected to clean them." Colonel Lloyd, paying a unexpected visit, "took notice of their arms." The picquet's sergeant ordered the men to fall in for inspection: "Never mind falling in," said the colonel; "I only called to ask you why you did not make those Spaniards whom you relieved last night take their arms with them." The sergeant, who did not see through the sarcasm, replied, that the Spaniards did take their arms with them. "And pray, whose arms are these?" "The picquet's arms," replied the sergeant "Poh! nonsense! you don't intend to make me believe that these arms belong to British soldiers. Send for the Spaniards, and make them take away their arms." So saying, he walked down the hill. Each man felt his honor implicated, and the colonel had not gone many paces when they were all busy cleaning their muskets.

the 74th receiving 500 lashes to this chicanery on the part of the “88th loons.” Greenhill Gardyne. “A Crack with an Old 74th Man.” Highland Light Infantry Journal. 1904. 149. 5 These interactions could even take place during lulls in battle. Sergeant William Lawrence of the 40th recorded an incident that occurred during the on July 27, 1809: At eleven or twelve o’clock in the day the firing ceased, and a period of truce was allowed for both armies to collect their wounded, and convey them to the rear, where, as they lay often intermixed, a friendly intercourse sprang up between them, the Allies and the French, often going so far as to shake hands with each other.

94 This mild example of the use of national feeling for military ends exploits the same type of disdain for the native populace that helped limit desertion among British troops in Spain. After the evacuation from Corunna Wellesley returned to the Peninsula. The British campaign assumed a “see-saw” quality over the next four years; while the guerrilla struggle between the French and Spanish continued unabated. In 1809 Wellesley managed to again evict the French from Portugal but his attempt to enter Spain failed utterly, despite British victory at the Battle of Talavera. In 1810 the French under Marshal Massena launched their largest campaign against Portugal. This took them to the outskirts of Lisbon, where, however, they encountered the massive siege lines of Torres Vedras constructed by the British and Portuguese over the previous year. The French army now nearly perished of starvation in a denuded countryside. The subsequent French retreat saw the loss of at least 25,000 men and their permanent eviction from Portuguese territory.. However, the British were not able to make further progress towards the liberation of Spain. On vitally important factor in the Allied successes of 1810 was the role of the Portuguese Army. This force had been in a poor state at the time of the French invasion of 1807. In the first two years of the War the most fruitful Portuguese contributions to the struggle had come from militia and irregular forces. During the winter of 1809-10 the Portuguese Army had received an influx of British officers who helped to restore its discipline and provide it with more realistic training. After the campaign of 1810 the Portuguese regular army was brigaded with the British and was regarded by both British officers and soldiers from an entirely different perspective than the Spanish forces. According to Drum-Major Westcott of the 26th: “The people in Britain has not the least idea that the Portuguese troops are so fine and so well-equipped and disciplined…with the long experience of fighting with the British against the French, they now are an honour to their country both in military appearance and in bravery…” In fact, the Portuguese army received accolades from British diarists who were intensely critical of virtually every other aspect of Iberian life and culture6. The year 1811 saw both sides engaged in a stalemate along the Spanish- Portuguese border. In 1812 Wellesley, now Viscount Wellington, seized the initiative with two rapid sieges, capturing the Spanish border fortresses of Ciudad Roderigo and Badajoz. These operations were immensely costly both to the British assailants and the Spanish civilian population of the two towns. Despite the losses sustained, they secured

6 Unfortunately this respect was frequently not accorded to the civilian population. Private William Wheeler's description is justly famous as a piece of xenophobic invective: What an ignorant, priest-ridden, dirty, lousy set of poor Devils are the Portuguese. Without seeing them it is impossible to conceive there exists a people in Europe so debased. The filthiest pig sty is a palace to the filthy houses in this dirty stinking city, all the dirt made in the houses is thrown into the streets, where it remains baking for months until a storm of rain washes it away. The streets are crowded with half-starved dogs, fat Priests and lousy people. The dogs should all be destroyed, the ablebodied Priests drafted into the Army, half the remainder should be made to keep the city clean, and the remainder if they did not inculcate the necessity of personal cleanliness should be hanged. Sergeant Donaldson's description of the city of Lisbon is more discreet but imparts the same general feeling of Portugal and its inhabitants: My opinion of the interior of Lisbon was certainly very low; and I think, if a stranger wishes to see Lisbon, and leave it with any idea of its grandeur, he ought to contemplate it from the (Tagus) river, but never set his foot on shore, for he will feel nothing but disgust.

95 the Allied army the initiative. Wellington then invaded Spain, winning a crushing victory at Salamanca and entering Madrid the next month. This triumph, however, was short- lived. The French now concentrated their dispersed forces; relieved Wellington’s siege of the Castle of Burgos and compelled an Allied retreat back to the Portuguese frontier. This retreat, despite Wellington’s fabled logistical virtuosity, was quite as devastating to the Army as the earlier retreat to Corunna. The most important achievement of the campaign was the abandonment of Southern Spain by the French, as the garrisons removed to force Wellington’s retreat were not replaced. 1813 marked the beginning of the Allied initiative that would bring victory in the War. This was largely the result of the redeployment of 200,000 French troops to Central Europe. Wellington launched a rapid invasion of Spain, switching his base of supply from Lisbon to Vigo as he advanced across country. At the decisive battle of Vitoria the French army was heavily defeated; although most of its number successfully escaped, at least partly because of unrestrained plundering by the British troops. After Vitoria the French kingdom of Spain was a dead issue as the Allies advanced to the Pyrenees. Two sieges has to be carried out before an invasion of France; those of San Sebastian and Pamplona. These sieges were protracted and led to two unsuccessful attempts to relieve the beleagured towns by the French. One of these attempts constituted collectively the Battle of the Pyrenees perhaps the costliest series of engagements of the entire War. Ultimately Pamplona surrendered as a result of blockade but San Sebastian had to be carried by storm in an action quite as costly the assailants as the earlier assault on Badajoz. In 1814 the Allies carried the War into the South of France. A series of river-lines had to be accosted prior to entry into the French heartland and one city, Bayonne, had to be besieged. The Allied operations were carried out with skill, although another French counter-attack, that along the Nive led to a series of battles nearly as deadly as those of the Pyrenees. Bayonne itself continued to hold out under blockade until the end of the War although by that time Wellington’s field army had captured Toulouse and was threatening a much wider invasion. Perhaps the most notable event of the campaign of 1814 was a non-event. The complete absence of any popular resistance on the part of the French civilians. The logistical system painstakingly developed in Portugal and Spain worked came to its fullest fruition in the more abundant lands of Southern France and the desperate plundering (by both sides) that marked the Peninsular war largely disappeared among the British troops in France. In fact, as we shall now see, the British troops frequently showed more sympathy for their erstwhile enemies than they had for their Allies. Why truly your great enemy is the Spaniard. He is a natural enemy. He is naturally so; he is naturally so throughout, - by that reason of that enmity that is in him against whatsoever is of God.7 Thus famously spoke Oliver Cromwell in an address to Parliament. He was promulgating an idea shared by English Protestants for the previous hundred years and one still held by their forebearers of the early 19th century, that Spain was THE Enemy, the very heartland of militant Catholicism. This belief had been reinforced by the Wars of the 18th century when Spain and France had fought together under the Bourbon Family Compact and even by the French Revolutionary Wars in which Catholic Spain

7 Thomas Carlyle ed. Oliver Cromwell’s Letters and Speeches. Vol. IV. (London: 1903) 179-180.

96 had actively allied itself with Revolutionary France against Britain8. The notion of Spain as an ally, let alone a vital, in fact indispensable one, could scarcely fail to be seen as at the very least a novelty by the British soldiers of Wellington’s Army9. One common soldier’s narrative survives from the Wars between Britain and Spain in the 18th century and it helps cast some light on the attitudes British troops brought to the Peninsula. Sergeant Samuel Ancell served on Gibraltar throughout the Great Siege of 1779-83. During this period he obviously had only limited contact with Spanish civilians, however, his experiences and attitudes parallel those of a later generation of British soldiers in many ways. His preconceptions of the Spaniards were summed up by this statement: “History has partially recorded that cowardice generally characterized their conduct;” although he felt the conduct of the present siege showed ‘martial spirit and ‘undaunted resolution10.’ Material dearth was perhaps even more severe for the Gibraltar garrison than it was for the Peninsular Army, “Vegetables are scarce and dear, and what are sold, are no better than the rubbish of a dunghill in England11.” Plundering was punished severely as Ancell’s letter of May 30, 1781 reveals: This day another soldier was executed for the same crime. The General (Sir George Elliott) is a very humane man, but cannot overlook so great an infringement of martial law. It is amazing that men should sport away their existence for the gratification of their sensual appetites, as the crimes for which they all suffered, was for plundering the King’s stores for provision and liquor. However, the physical conditions under which Gibraltar’s civilian inhabitants subsisted made them unattractive targets for despoliation. The Spanish and Portuguese peasants British troops encountered in the Peninsula were another matter. Sgt. Ancell records a conversation with an Irish soldier, nicknamed ‘Jack Careless,’ that could easily have been enacted by Peninsular veterans. Ancell was approached by the Hibernian who was bearing a bottle in hand: “Damn me if I don’t like fighting; I’d like to be ever tanning the Dons; Plenty of good liquor for carrying away, never was the Price so cheap…I have been

8 This historical tension serves as a further contrast between Spanish and Portuguese from a British perspective. Ties between Britain and Portugal extend back to the . More recently Portugal had been actively allied with Britain in the Seven Years War and had maintained a friendly neutrality during the American War of Independence. 9 The British had, of course, fought in concert with Allied troops throughout the 18th Century. Their most frequent companions in arms were Northern German Protestants such as the Hessians, Hanoverians and Brunswickers. Relations between these troops and the British were generally far more amicable than those between the Allies in the Peninsula, but as we have seen in the case of the Ely flogging (and as we shall further see in chapters five and seven) there were exceptions. 10 Samuel Ancell. A Circumstantial Journal of the Long and Tedious Blockade and Siege of Gibraltar. (Liverpool: 1784), 98. In addition to the traditional supiness of the Spaniards Sgt. Ancell believed that “courage was the Briton’s prerogative” as well. Pg. 136

11 Ibid. 40. The besieged British troops however, did their best to provide for themselves by converting ‘the solid parts of the rock into kitchen gardens” by ‘raising walls one height above another, and filling the enclosed with earth.” Sgt Ancell was amused by this prospect: “It will appear a scene of enchantment to (the Spanish commander Marshal Don) Barcello, when he beholds the face of the dry and barren rock, in a state of vegetation.”

97 constantly on foot and watch, half starved, and without money, facing a parcel of pitiful Spaniards…” A shell that instant burst a piece of which knocked the bottle out of his hand; with the greatest composure, he replied (having first graced it with an oath) “This is not any great loss I have found a whole cask, by good luck.” Ancell’s mate than presents him with a peak at the treasure without ever quite explaining its origin. The subsequent conversation helps to illuminate the attitudes of a common soldier; perhaps especially an Irish one in the British Army. At one point Ancell admonishes “Jack” for godlessness: …fine talking of God with a soldier, whose trade and occupation is cutting throats… Our King is answerable to God for us, I fight for him; my religion consists in a fire-lock, open touch-hole, good flint, well-rammed charge, and seventy rounds of powder and ball. Come comrade and drink success to British arms. They drink using a piece of shell for a cup inspiring Jack to further bursts of drunken oratory: “Here is a cup fit for a Monarch, this was not purchased with gold or friendship, but with streams of our countrymen’s blood.” They toast to “King George and Victory” with Jack adding “And he that would not drink the same, I’d give him an ounce of lead…” This is a striking example of a common soldier’s patriotism one only lightly tempered with feelings of xenophobia for the ‘pitiful Spaniards.” British soldiers embarking for the Peninsula certainly shared many of the preconceptions of Spain and the Spanish of Sgt. Ancell. However, a number of soldiers describe their negative view of the Spanish as coming about as a result of a process of disillusionment with a purported ally. A clear description of this process was left by an anonymous Sergeant of the 43rd regiment. The author had taken part in the retreat to Corunna during which time he had witnessed excesses committed by British troops; most notably on the occasion of the discovery of wine vats at the town of Bembibre when much of the Army had become a “heterogeneous mass of marauders.” However, the author continued to believe that the Spanish people viewed the British Army as their savior. Thus he was shocked when, after the Battle of Talavera: “Not an inhabitant, although possessing ample means, would render the slightest aid, nor even assist to bury the dead.” The Spanish hid their food supplies from their Allies even in the immediate aftermath of the Battle when the “troops were starving.” In the words of the Sergeant: “This conduct left an indelible impression on the minds of the British soldiers. From that period their contempt and dislike of the Spaniards was never effaced.” During the subsequent retreat to the Portuguese frontier, ‘famine raged’ through the Army. The relations between the Allies verged on open hostility. Early in the retreat the Sergeant’s company came upon ‘several herds of swine” apparently unattended. The British “soldiers ran in among the animals, shooting, stabbing, and, like men possessed, cutting off the flesh while the beasts were yet alive.’ At other times the soldiers ‘breakfasted upon the acorns or oak-nuts beaten down by the Spanish swineherds for the use of the hogs.” The Spanish responded violently to British efforts to secure sustenance: It was notorious that the Spanish cavalry intercepted the provisions and forage destined for the English Army, and fired upon the foragers, as if they had been enemies.

98 The retreat from Talavera, in the Sergeant’s account, takes on the attributes of a running fight; one that was waged not against the French pursuers but the Spanish Army. In addition to their lack of sympathy with the plight of their allies the Sergeant was equally angered by the Spanish mode of waging war. The Spanish regular army simply could not maintain even strong defensive positions against the French. The common people were vicious rather than brave. They both lacked a sense of patriotism. Rather: The principal motive in war with these people was personal rancor: hence those troops who behaved so ill in action, and the inhabitants, who alike withheld their sympathy and their aid from the English soldiers, to whose bravery they owed the preservation of their town, were busily engaged after the battle in beating out the brains of the wounded French, as they lay upon the field; and they were only checked by the English soldiers, who, in some instances, fired upon the perpetrators of this horrible iniquity. Fired upon by the Spanish gendarmes, actively engaged in saving the lives of wounded Frenchmen; by the end of the Talavera campaign the Sergeant had serious doubts as to who Britain’s Allies actually were in the Peninsula. Talavera marked a swift disillusionment for other soldiers as well. According to Sergeant John Cooper of the 7th Fusiliers the Spanish army were a ‘motley crew’ led by ‘a worthless wretch’ General Cuesta. As the battle raged ‘many of these boasting Spaniards deserted, and spread the news that the English were defeated.” During the retreat Cooper’s regiment launched a ‘general attack’ on ‘200 or 300 fat pigs’ that had been left unguarded by their Spanish owners. This latter, of course, being a serious criminal offense described in terms of unconcealed glee. Despite the windfall provided by the herd of swine at the end of the retreat the British soldiers “looked like skeletons.” When the 7th Fusiliers established a permanent camp it was in the vicinity of over 150 bee hives. “How many remained after the first week of our stay I cannot tell, but complaints being made by the proprietor, several delinquents were caught and punished severely.” By the culmination of the retreat the Fusiliers were waging war against the Spanish peasants with as great an alacrity as that which they manifested towards the French. Sergeant William Lawrence’s disillusionment with the Spanish came about when he first observed General Cuesta’s army in action. He had fought Spanish colonial troops in and was not been impressed by them. Of the Spanish soldiers at Talavera: They looked a fine enough body of men, but they were fit for scarcely anything except to fall into disorder and confusion, as we had already found when we had taken the field against some of them at Monte Video, Colonia and Buenos Ayres, the smell of powder often seeming to cause them to be missing when wanted, either from not having been properly disciplined, or else because they had not good officers to command them; this, of course, now bringing the brunt of most of the battles upon us. Lawrence’s critique is notable in attributing the shortcomings of the Spanish not to any fault in themselves but rather to an ineffective military system It’s interesting that in this context Lawrence does not comment on the supposed lack of generosity of the Spanish peasants or include any gloating accounts of plundering expeditions. He does mention the abandonment of 1500 wounded British troops by General Cuesta’s army in the aftermath

99 of the British retreat, but again alludes more to Cuesta’s failure as a commander (“we would have been much better without his services altogether”) then to any flaws in the Spanish national character. Sgt. Andrew Pearson of the 61st described a review of his regiment, exhausted after a march of several days, by the Spanish General Costa (sic). Apparently the latter was most gratified describing the assembled redcoats: “These English soldiers are the handsomest, the bravest and the best soldiers in the world.” Pearson goes on to describe a remark made by a Spanish Lady accompanying the General: “I admit you are right in thinking them the best soldiers, but you should have added at the same time, they are the greatest drunkards in the world.” Apparently both sides possessed preconceptions. Pearson had served throughout the Mediterranean over the previous ten years and his knowledge of Spanish was unusual. This he remarked was perhaps a good thing for: “It was as well that our men did not understand what she said, as none of us were in very good temper, being hungry, thirsty, and exhausted with the march.” The Spanish Army was then marched in review. According to Pearson: “Not one of us but would most imploringly have dispensed with this honor;” but General Cuesta was adamant. Although they wanted desperately to rest the review did have its compensations for the redcoats: …we were heartily amused with his army. Falstaff’s ragged regiment would have done honour to any force compared with the men before us; they were undisciplined, badly armed, and hundreds of them almost naked. I can assure the reader that it was the greatest difficulty we could avoid laughing right in their faces. What particularly struck Pearson was the self-seriousness of the assembled harlequins – ‘hundreds of men with the most haughty countenances sported coats of many colors; while their inexpressibles bore unmistakable testimony to the difficulty experienced by the wearers in keeping the rags pinned above their legs.” Only after the parade insisted on by the Spanish general was the 61st allowed to send out parties to search for stragglers from their battalion who had fallen out during the long, excruciatingly hot march. Pearson describes the Battle of Talavera in assertively patriotic terms. The mass of the Spanish army was placed on the far right behind a series of ‘natural and artificial barriers’ yet were routed by a French feint attack: “we soon found to our sad experience that our new allies were not to be of much service to us, for when assaulted by the French, a few thousands of them fired once and fled panic-stricken to our rear, where they considered it a much greater advantage to plunder our baggage…” The British troops in the center faced the main brunt of the French assault. Ordered to lie down during the enemy’s cannonade the 61st did so reluctantly for ‘this is at no time a palatable order to British soldiers.” Finally, as a French assault column neared: “it was too much for us any longer, and, leaping up, we gave the well-known British cheer and charged.” The front of French column broke and the remainder soon retired on Marshal Victor’s main body. The battle was ultimately decided by the advance of the 48th Regiment. This took place after the defeat of a similar assault by the British Guards Brigade which Pearson acknowledges without excuse: “The 48th marched in beautiful order amongst the retiring crowds of our men, wheeling back in companies to allow them to pass at intervals, then again resuming line and marching upon the pursuing column of French, plying them with a destructive fire, and then closing upon them with a firm, yet regular

100 step which checked all forward movement.” The 48th’s movement allowed the Guards to reform and there was soon a general advance which drove the French back to their original positions. As the Battle came to an end British and French troops were allowed to break ranks and run down to the small stream that separated the armies. This was ‘now a pool of blood’ but with no other water supply to hand both sides “were compelled to close our eyes and drink the gory stream.” After this ghastly procedure the two armies enjoyed an interlude of peace: “In place of looking grimly at our enemies, we shook hands with them in the most friendly manner.” Absent from this tableau were, of course, the Spaniards. When Wellington retreated from Talavera less than a week later Pearson remarked of it that his motivation was less a wish to avoid an engagement against the heavily reinforced Marshal Victor than “to rid himself of the Spanish commander and his forces, as both had proved a nuisance.” The Talavera campaign did not, of course, in and of itself sour relations between the Allies. One source of constant friction between the British soldiers and the Spaniards was religion. In this context the severely limited number of accounts written by Catholic soldiers in the British Army is a particularly severe drawback. Many Protestant soldier- memorialists record the opinions and actions of their Irish comrades but we can assume that the latter did not hold the religious opinions of their “Boswells.12” We must always bear the Irish presence in mind in discussing the strained relations between British soldiers and native Catholics in the Peninsula. Just as the British Commander-in-Chief sought to eliminate friction between the British Army and its hosts by punishing thieves he also sought to promote conviviality through religious tolerance. Drum-Major Westcott of the 26th recorded: The Regiment received orders, which originated from Lord Wellington, that at all times when the religious procession called the host, traipses the street that every officer, non-commissioned officer or soldier in the British Army to pay the utmost respect to it by taking off their hats or caps as soon as they perceive it. Westcott was an admirer of Portuguese cathedrals (“for interior grandeur we have nothing in the British empire to equal any of the churches of Lisbon”) and music yet he was scandalized by this order. He hypothesized that ‘if the Portuguese government required it’ the whole British Army might be required to break the Second Commandment “by prostrating themselves like the Portuguese in the streets to the mummery of a pack of designing friars.” However, he didn’t seriously question the order. Westcott was open-minded enough to relish the opportunity to provide music for a dinner held by the monks of St. Paul's Convent in Lisbon for the Officers of the 26th. Other soldiers, generally with far less education religious or otherwise than Westcott, took their hostility to the Catholic Church to greater lengths both rhetorically and physically. Sgt. Pearson had wide experience of service in the Mediterranean world and could speak a modicum of Spanish and Portuguese. He went so far as to describe Portugal as "home." However, he remained inveterately hostile to the Catholic Church. His

12 Sgt. Donaldson records a comic incident in which his Irish comrade Dennis was obliged to prostrate himself before the host. Dennis was careful of his appearance and had "a great aversion to kneeling in the dirty streets." With this in mind he seized a hat from a Portuguese and knelt upon it - "thus saving both his conscience and his breeches." When ranked among the writings of British soldiers in the Peninsula this anecdote is a comparatively sensitive one.

101 "experiences in the Popish country" often sound like a running battle with church authorities. In Lisbon he and three soldiers entered a public house "for the purpose of having some wine." Whilst the British soldiers imbibed a priest entered with a great number of amulets bearing pictures of Saints. The publican attempted to avoid buying any of the amulets claiming poverty. The priest became enraged shouting "Shut your mouth, you dog," and forcibly placing an amulet around each member of the household's necks (including an infant). Pearson felt "every drop of blood boiling in my body." He proceeded to seize the priest by the throat and with his mates drag him to the bank of Tagus. The cleric was then unceremoniously "pitched over" into the river. The result of this was the closure of the public house and the arrest of the publican by Portuguese authorities. Pearson managed to collect seventeen Portuguese dollars on the unfortunate man's behalf, which he entrusted to a jailer. However, as the 61st soon left Lisbon he had no idea as to the ultimate result of his actions. On the march in Spain Pearson records an incident in which his company were billeted in "a range of huts, almost roofless,' which were owned by a Priest. A standing order existed to the effect that a sergeant had to inspect British encampments to make certain that "fires were totally extinguished" on departure. On this occasion a sergeant named Walsh ably performed the duty. However, shortly after the troops departed the cleric-owner appeared demanding 150 dollars for his property claiming it had gone up in flames. The paymaster of the 61st was charged with the bill; one which was paid by stopping the battalion's wages. Pearson records that one of the British soldiers, George Booth, "who was never known to take the value of a grain of seed" prior to this incident, swore revenge. Several days later in a village Pearson declines to name the church altar sported "an image of the infant Jesus of pure gold." Booth named the figure "Dicky Creation" and pledged "when I march you must march too Dicky." When the 61st marched from the town the image accompanied them. They had not gone four leagues when a halt was ordered. Four priests appeared in the company of the Commander-in-Chief. The soldiers were compelled to "take off their packs, open them, shake out their shirts, and examine their pouches. Take off their caps…" However, the search yielded no results and according to Pearson Wellington dismissed both the soldiers and the priests with some consternation. The sergeant concludes the anecdote by noting that "Dicky Creation" later reappeared and "did as much good to us, as ever he was intended to do to the worshippers of him." Other incidents of religious animosity described by British soldiers have less of a buccaneering character. Sgt. William Lawrence was billeted on "a respectable but poor man and his wife" in the Portuguese town of Olivencia during the winter of 1810-11. Lawrence noticed that during Lent his hosts' suppers consisted solely "so far as I was able to observe, of a mixture of greens, oil, cayenne pepper and salt." After residing in the house for several weeks Lawrence was "left to cook" for his hosts. "Feeling in a rather mischievous mood" he decided to enrich their diet by carefully stirring in a quantity of his own beef into his host's repast. Lawrence claimed that he "did not expect what a bother I should throw up" when he shared his recipe with his hosts in the middle of their meal. The latter "exclaimed they had eaten the Devil, or words to that effect in their language" and threw out the remainder of their food. The next day a priest appeared in the house, absolved the Portuguese and, in Lawrence's words, "condemned me forever." The peasants were obliged by their own authorities to continue to accommodate their

102 'guests' although Lawrence does admit to feeling 'rather uncomfortable' during the rest of his stay. British memorialists took great pains to differentiate their chivalrous, comparatively limited war against the French with the brutal, total war waged between the French and the Iberian peoples. This contrast is not entirely a false one. The descriptions left by British observers of the guerrilla war are chilling. Private William Blainey of the 51st left a revolting picture of the condition of the only survivor of the Portuguese town of Villa Frania after its liberation from the French: On this unfortunate creature the French scoundrels had committed the most hellish acts of cruelty. She was lying on a straw bed covered with wounds, who (sic) after ravishing her, had stabbed her in eleven different places… The streets of the town were scattered not only with the recently killed but with corpses dug out of the ground and plundered. Sgt. William Lawrence describes another incident from Massena's retreat from the Lines of Torres Vedras. As the 40th regiment advanced, they encountered a group of Portuguese peasants. These people: "had laid a ring of straw round a wounded Frenchman and set fire to it, and when the poor man tried to crawl out, he was only received by a pitchfork which sent him again into the centre." The British soldiers dispersed the peasants. However, the Frenchman, "his hair, fingers and face …fearfully burnt," was unable to keep pace with his rescuers and was abandoned on the roadside. Lawrence reflected that the French 'brought on themselves by dealing out the same coin" to the peasants. When the latter occasionally caught a French soldier he could expect to suffer a gruesome fate. Acts of retaliation against prisoners undertaken by the French and Iberians were by no means all carried out in the heat of outrage. The rules of War regarding prisoners were often simply ignored. The 94th Regiment was part of the reinforcement sent to the Spanish garrison of Cadiz. Sergeant Joseph Donaldson had an opportunity of observing the prison hulks in Cadiz harbor. French prisoners held on board perished daily; their corpses were dumped overboard each night into the bay. The tides daily brought in emaciated French corpses. The British troops on encountering one "scraped a hole in the sand, and buried them." The Spanish either ignored them or "practiced some barbarity on them - such as dashing large stones on their heads, or cutting and mutilating them in such a way that the very soul would sicken at the idea." Donaldson had the opportunity of meeting one of the unfortunate Frenchmen. He was on picquet near the bay shore when he and his fellows observed "something white moving amongst the weeds near the shore." Donaldson's sergeant led his party to this apparition. Initially they supposed it was another naked corpse that had been moved about by the tides. On inspection they discovered the body was still alive. The redcoats rubbed the Frenchman with their hands until he began to move. His first words were repeated cries of 'Misericordia.' He didn't speak English but on hearing the soldiers' language shouted "Vous etes Anglois - Grace a bon Dieu." Donaldson and his mates brought him to the British lines where he was given clothes and questioned by a French- speaking officer of the Royal Artillery. The escaped prisoner was a surgeon who had thrown himself overboard of one of the hulks. He had initially feared that he'd been re- captured by a Spanish patrol, "who, he well knew, would have butchered him without mercy" and so was overcome with joy on hearing the English language. Remarkably, the

103 British garrison commander decided to return the prisoner immediately to the French lines without even arranging an exchange. Donaldson was pleased to form part of the surgeon's escort back to his own Army. The entire incident serving to clearly demarcate the respective attitudes of the British and Spanish Armies towards Prisoners of War. An anonymous private of the 38th Regiment left an account of French treatment of Spanish and Portuguese POW's that further reinforces the contrast between the Anglo- French War and the Franco-Iberian one. The private had been convalescing in a hospital near Madrid in October 1812. At this point the Allied army began its retreat to the Portuguese frontier and he was placed in a 'sick wagon' and sent off. They rode for four days, the patients periodically being removed from the wagons during rest stops. On the fourth day the column was attacked by French cavalry. Most of the wagons escaped but the private, who had been "laying on the ground" was taken prisoner. He feared he would be killed on the spot if he appeared unable to march so with an effort he stood up and marched a mile behind French lines. On the way he was relieved of his "Big Cote" by a Frenchman. Fortunately he found a group of Allied prisoners huddling together beside a fire. The fire was extinguished before the soldiers went to sleep, "but seeing me so very ill they lade me on the place wher the fire had been that I might get what nourishment I could from the warmth of the ground and the rest of the men lade round me." The next morning the prisoners began their march towards France. The memorialist records that "there were maney among us that was sick and as soon as we began to march the French put maney to death that could not keep up." "But" he adds "most of them that where killed where Portugese and Spanyards." A French sergeant actually stayed behind with the writer when he fell behind ("when I could not keep up he would stay for me"). The next day the prisoners were marched only two miles. On the third day they were forced to cover five and the author counted no fewer than 36 prisoners being put to death including "a man belonging to the same regiment as myself." By the fourth day the anonymous private was certain "That it would be my lot to suffer the same fate that so maney of my fellow prisoners had Met with." However, a young French officer took command of the prisoners at this point; he "seemed to be a verey feeling man" and he managed to infuse the Guards with a desire to "show more kindness than they did before." Only one other prisoner was killed before the party reached their destination in France. This occurred "Only for A circumstance that we saw on the road…”: But the Spanyards were cruel People and if they could ever light of any one or two of the French alone they would murder them in the most brutal manner they could so as we were marching we saw one of the French soldiers who had been murdered laying in the most shameful and disgraceful manner he could be left in. This outraged the French guards who swore "they would have satisfaction before they entered the town." A prisoner with badly swollen legs was chosen; "whether he was a Spanyard or a Portege I did not Know for their dress was so Alike." As the column began to move "one of the guard came to the poor sick man and ran his Bayonet through him." The author notes that this was the "satisfaction they had for the death of their fellow soldier." What is perhaps most remarkable about this narrative is the understanding accorded to the French guards by the author. Despite at least one British prisoner having been among those summarily executed he maintains a neutrality between the French and Spanish that is as shocking as it is ingenuous. The impression given is that the quarrel

104 between the French and the Iberians is a private, savage one in which a self-respecting (or perhaps merely grateful) British soldier ought not to become involved13. Gunner Andrew Philips of the Royal artillery provides an even more vivid account of Franco-Spanish warfare. He was part of an expeditionary force sent from Cadiz to reinforce the Spanish garrison of Tarragona in April 1812. As the British ships neared the harbor the French launched their main assault. What happened next is recorded by the Gunner in terms that ought not to be embellished: The French forced open the gates and Entered the town and drove the Spanish soldgers and inhabitants out of the town to the fields of slaughter which it was a friteful site to see them put men, women and children to the edge of the sword and burnt the town to ashes which I saw with my eyes but having the good fortune not to lie upon the shore. It is perhaps appropriate for our study of national feeling that the account ends with a hint of honest gratitude for being an Englishman (or at least anything but a Spaniard). Gunner Philips later took part in a relief expedition to Cartagena. This one arrived on time and allowed the author to share his opinion that "as soon as the French heard of the British troops Being in Cartagena they took another course." Although I am now going to address the question of British violence towards Iberian civilians it should be born in mind that nothing the Redcoats did in the Peninsular War, not even the indiscriminate killings that took place after the storming of Badajoz in 1812, compares to the aftermath of the siege of Tarragona. Confrontations between British soldiers and Iberian civilians occurred throughout the Peninsular War. At times soldier-memorialists describe plundering expeditions with an ingenuousness that is almost endearing. Shortly after castigating Marshal Massena’s army for ‘having laid waste the land’ in its retreat from Torres Vedras the anonymous sergeant of the 43rd Regiment describes an encounter between a ‘small party’ of his Regiment (“in search of bread or any other sustenance we could secure”) and a group of Portuguese refugees. The latter were residing in tents. As the redcoats approached the improvised dwellings they were met by several women and children. The British soldiers were informed in a broken polyglot of English and Portuguese that there was nothing for them to buy. This did not prevent a man of the 43rd from entering one of the tents and securing a “leathern bottle, containing perhaps twenty or thirty gallons of liquid.” Cups and canteens were swiftly produced but the liquid turned out to be oil rather than wine. The soldiers did manage to seize several loaves of bread when: “a numerous and armed party of men were observed rapidly coming down the mountainside upon us.” As their ‘purchasing’ expedition was unauthorized the soldiers “were without our muskets.” The author confides that he and his comrades were “sensible that if overtaken, our lives were forfeited, a hasty retreat became necessary.” The chase lasted several miles, but the soldiers fortified by their stolen bread eluded their pursuers. Without further comment on the incident the author proceeds with his narrative going on to laud Lord Wellington for

13 The author is in general remarkably sympathetic to his captors. In April 1814 he and his fellow prisoners "was in a deplorable state for we had 44 men in a room with scarcely anything to Ware and very Often Nothing to Eat." However, he felt "there could be no blame attached to French" because their "government was falling" and the jailers "did not know where to look for payment." Fortunately peasants brought the Allied prisoners bread and broth until they were formally released.

105 binging the Allied Army to the borders of Spain: “having executed, what to others had appeared incredible and vain.” Common soldiers were not always only participants in marauding. Sgt. Donaldson of the 94th Regiment describes an incident that occurred at the Portuguese town of Cadaceira in 1810 after his Regiment had been transported to that country from the Cadiz garrison. Shortly after arriving in their billets after a march the soldiers of Donaldson’s brigade observed a peasant driving a flock of sheep through the town. The effect of the appearance of the flock was electric: “In a moment, a race was made amongst them by some of our soldiers.” Soon a number of officers had joined in “promiscuously scrambling for the mutton.” Donaldson’s comrade Denis seized a sheep but was confronted by an officer of the 87th Irish Fusiliers pursuing the same goal. The two Irishmen engaged in a humorous confrontation: “Give me that sheep, sir,” said the officer in an authoritative tone. “Arrah, be aisy, honey!” said Dennis. “Kill a Hessian for yourself, if you plaise.” The officer relinquished his claim and pursued another. Donaldson explains that “Kill a Hessian for Yourself” was an Irish expression coined in the 1798 Rebellion. After killing a Hessian soldier a United Irishman was busy plundering the corpse when asked by his comrades to share. He responded by advising them to get one for themselves. Unlike the “expedition’ carried out by the Sergeant of the 43rd this incident did not go unpunished by the military authorities. The Portuguese shepherd muttering imprecations against the “ladrones Ingleses” sought out the Brigadier and the Brigade- major. Meanwhile the village’s wine stores were discovered, broken open and much of the brigade became intoxicated. Donaldson records that men caught before they could dispose of their plunder were ‘confined’ and several were flogged after a drumhead court-martial. He further adds that, as was too often the case “they were not the most guilty who suffered.” By modern standards the behavior of the British troops is certainly shocking, however, I think the infliction of hundreds of lashes for petty theft should at least serve to ameliorate our judgment of them (and explain why they might have little sympathy for the Portuguese who to their minds brought the punishments upon them). There were several periods of the Peninsular conflict in which antipathy between British soldiers and the Iberian civilian population intensified considerably. These included the two great retreats carried out by the British army in 1808-09 and 1812, and the aftermaths of the sieges of Ciudad Roderigo, Badajoz and San Sebastian. Both these retreats, far longer and more costly movements than the retreat from Talavera described above, witnessed the collapse of the British supply system and the subsequent need by the troops to engage in foraging. However, the forays conducted by British troops were not mere quests for sustenance. They featured wholesale plundering and, when the occasions arose, mass drunkenness. One soldier, Sgt. Anthony Hamilton of the 43rd Regiment is quite unequivocal in his description of the Army’s behavior on the retreat to Corunna: “The ravages of the most ferocious enemy could not have exceeded in atrocity those perpetrated by a British Army on their allies.” Even in the early stages of the retreat the Army was exposed to miserable weather, with ever dwindling provisions. The Spanish peasants, initially “locked their doors, and concealed their little stock of provisions,” from their Allies. This provoked attacks by the retreating British troops: “”Hatred and disgust sprang up on both sides, and frequent scenes of bloodshed were the

106 consequence.” By the end of the retreat the peasants simply “fled their dwellings and sought shelter in the mountains” at the approach of British troops. Hamilton adds that the worst excesses were committed by troops who had lost their units and become stragglers. Soldiers in these circumstances lost all military cohesion as well as self-restraint and became easy targets for the French. Hamilton described the appearance of some stragglers who had managed to escape the French cavalry: Never did I gaze on a spectacle more appalling than those who, escaping death, came up bleeding and lacerated, and were, by order of the General paraded through the ranks as a warning to their comrades. Hamilton adds that he feels it important that ‘these humiliating circumstances’ be recorded to provide a clearer notion of the realities of War. The privations endured by the British army during the two great retreats make the plundering forays themselves, if not their accompanying acts of violence, appear comprehensible14. The anonymous private of the 38th Regiment describes his state just before reaching Corunna in terms that would have been familiar to thousands of his comrades: “I was so fatigued and hungry I thought if some unseen person would come behind me and blow out my Branes they would by that means put me out of my troubles and do me a kindness.” The sack of Spanish towns in the aftermath of successful sieges also occurred in the context of extreme stress. An anonymous trooper of the 5th Dragoons described the scene around the walls of Badajoz in the aftermath of the assault: “It was easy to perceive where the conflict had been the hottest by the heaps of British and French soldiers that lay mingled promiscuously together15.” However, what is more striking than his description of the scene of battle is his depiction of the town itself: The streets were literally strewn with dead bodies, and neither age nor sex appeared to have been a protection against the enraged soldiery. All around was a scene of misery and ruin…wine vaults broken open, and their contents, scattered or flowing about the streets…Women wringing their hands in despair at the brutal treatment they were obliged to submit to, and calling in vain upon their slaughtered husbands and brothers for assistance…

14 . Accounts of the retreat from Burgos generally describe struggles with the elements rather than the Spanish peasantry. This is probably due to the wholesale abandonment by the latter of their property at the approach of the retreating Army. Private Blainey described an incident during the last stage of the retreat when he temporarily became a straggler: Now the weather was very bad and we lost the regiment. At night we got into a house where there were all of sorts: English, Portugees, Spaniards, Germans, etc, etc. and a large fire in the middle. We was very wet cold and hungry, however, we had not been long here before two of the 68th Light Infantry came to the door, and seeing me and my comrade, one of them says – come here 51st. I went to the door and he put a sheep in my hand. I soon killed him and divided him between us… The house’s owners have clearly long since departed. This incident also reveals a sense of national solidarity even among the ‘demoralized’ stragglers as the British troops shared out their plunder amongst themselves. 15 The small space over which the attacks took place literally led to heaps of dead men being formed. Sgt Donaldson describes one particularly gruesome result of this “crowding” of bodies: Beneath one of the ladders , among others lay a corporal of the 45th Regiment, who, when wounded, had fallen forward on his knees and hands, and the foot of the (scaling) ladder had been, in the confusion, placed on his back. Whether the wound would have been mortal, I do not know, but the weight of the men ascending the ladder had facilitated his death, for the blood was forced out of his ears, mouth and nose.

107 The further describes “churches profaned, the images broken to pieces” all these acts of destruction being committed by British infantrymen driven “nearly mad’ by “spirits and wine.” It becomes clear that the main sufferers at the hands of the enraged British troops were not their French opponents but the Spanish civilians. According to the practices of war in the 18th century the defenders of a besieged town, if they expected quarter, were obliged to surrender once a sufficiently large breach had been made in the town walls. The French defenders of Ciudad Roderigo, Badajoz and San Sebastian had in fact formally sacrificed their status as prisoners of war; they had defended the breaches of the town walls long after they had become ‘practicable.’ Wellington had himself opined that he would have been justified by common practice in putting every man of the Badajoz garrison to the sword. Quartermaster-Sergeant William Surtees, of the 95th Rifles, described the French prisoners after Badajoz: I thought they seemed under great apprehension for their safety, as they appeared quite downcast and dejected, which is not generally the case with French prisoners, who will shrug their soldiers and tell you it is the fortune of war; but these poor fellows, who certainly had made a noble defense, seemed low-spirited and timid to a degree. Certainly by the rules of war, I believe, they might have been put to death, for having stood an assault of the place… Surtees then goes on to explicitly contrast the fate of the French prisoners after Badajoz with the extermination of the Spanish garrison of Tarragona. He feels the contrast reflects favorably on the British commander and his army; however, this scarcely addresses the question of the violence endured by Spanish civilians at the hands of British assailants who humanely spared French prisoners. Most writers explain the sufferings of Spanish civilians in the besieged towns as being brought about about due to the results of the twin effects of drink and pent-up fear. According to Surtees the men at Badajoz: “had also become quite reckless of life from so long an exposure to death.” He believed that British troops revealed certain national characteristics when they plundered. French soldiers “keep themselves more sober, and look more to solid and substantial benefit to be derived” from theft. British soldiers “sacrifice everything to drink; and when once in a state of intoxication…I know not what they will hesitate to perpetrate.” Sgt. Cooper of the 7th Fusiliers describes the soldiers as “maddened” by the experience of the assault and the subsequent plunder of “wine stores.” Their destructive behavior was not governed by calculations of profit: “Some got loaded with (silver) plate, etc.; then beastly drunk; and lastly, robbed by others16.” Only a few writers ascribe the excesses following the assaults to conscious loathing of the Spanish but the evidence they produce certainly creates the impression that violent behaviors were at least exacerbated by anti-Spanish feelings. Sgt Lawrence describes an incident he witnessed the morning after the assault: “a naked priest launched into the street and flogged down it by some of our men who had a grudge against him for the treatment they had met at a convent, when staying in the town before.” The

16 Surtees points out that “All thought of what they owed their wounded comrades…was swallowed up by their abominable rage for drink and plunder;” and the British wounded lay in the breach for several days after the assault uncollected by their drunken comrades. Sgt. Anthony Hamilton of the 43rd describes a similar circumstance: “The men of our regiment were so intoxicated and given up to excess, that it was difficult to find sober men to bury the dead. At the request of our Major, I, with the assistance of another soldier, dug our Colonel”s (Sir Charles MacLeod – killed in the assault) grave.” Hamilton had earlier been part of the ‘forlorn hope’ and was slightly wounded.

108 anonymous private of the 5th Dragoons provides a more general indictment of the Spanish civilians. He believed they actively joined with the French defenders and thus: “On this occasion the inhabitants of this city behaved very treacherously, but they paid dearly for their perfidy at the expense of their lives.” Although there is no evidence that the Spanish did join with the French garrison it is possible that rumors of such behavior were circulating among the British troops. A corollary of the dislike many British soldiers felt for their Allies was a considerable regard for the French. Pvt. Blainey in the aftermath of his gruesome discovery during Massena’s retreat, did write that “as long as I live I shall hate the very name of French soldier.” However, this opinion is unusual. More common is the feeling of respect evinced by Sgt. Donaldson for a Frenchman who in 1811 was shot for deserting the British service. The latter worthy had been captured by the British and then volunteered to join a foreign corps, the Britanniques, with the intention of deserting back to his own Army. Two Italian deserters from the same Regiment were to be executed with the Frenchman. Remarkably all three received back pay owed them before they were executed. Donaldson describes the Italians as being in “paroxysms of agony, crying and wringing their hands.” The Frenchman used his money to buy his fellow prisoners brandy in an effort to quiet them. This was a mistake for the liquor caused them to break “from all restraint in the expression of their feelings, and cried…in such a manner that they could be heard at a considerable distance from the guard-room.” The Frenchman refused all alcohol saying he needed none “to enable me to face death.” Donaldson described the Frenchman as assuming an exaggerated “inflexibility of countenance” so as not to betray a hint of fear. Donaldson admits to admiring the ‘manly fortitude and courage’ of the prisoner and reports that an unfounded rumor spread among the British soldiers that the brave man was a ‘brother to Marshal Soult.” The prisoner maintained appearances up to the moment of his execution, his last words being “Remember, I die a Frenchman.” Sgt Donaldson concludes the account by stating that “all admired his courage, and were sorry for his fate.” There are no comparable testimonials for an Iberian native in any of the soldier’s memorials that I’ve read for this study. British soldiers have left only a few accounts of the Army’s other campaigns in Mediterranean Europe during our period. The few that exist reveal a level of alienation from the local population that does to some extent mirror that felt by Peninsular veterans. The British Army’s long occupation of Sicily (1803-14) did not occasion any form of guerrilla resistance. The troops were largely concerned with anti-invasion measures and left policing to the Neapolitan authorities. However, Andrew Pearson of the 61st Regiment does leave a rather distressing account of his service in and Sicily. Shortly after landing near Naples in 1805, he witnessed the execution of a well-to-do Neapolitan bachelor who, in Pearson’s account was killed by an ecclesiastical court for reneging on a promise to leave his property to the Catholic Church in his will. Pearson records one response to this incident: Our Roman Catholic comrades were more indignant, if that could possibly be, then we were, and they shouted loudly that the Holy Catholic Church should not be allowed to have discredit thrown upon her by the perpetration of so foul a crime. While in southern Italy in the aftermath of the Battle of Maida the 61st Regiment had a brush with bandits with whom “Naples, like most of Roman Catholic countries, is

109 infested.” During a skirmish with a band of brigands the British soldiers captured a priest, whose task according to Pearson was to “regularly pardon all their (the bandits’) sins once a week.” During the Anglo-Neapolitan assault on the fortress of Scylla in 1806 Pearson recalls that General Sir John Stuart ordered that British troops accompany the Italians “with the view ‘of putting some pluck into the creatures.’” The French garrison of the Fort insisted on formally surrendering to British soldiers, “not the Neapolitans.” Overall Pearson’s account of Italy closely mirrors his later description of Spain and Portugal.

Private Wheeler of the 51st served in another part of Mediterranean Europe as well. He was stationed in the Ionian islands of Corfu and Zante during the years 1823- 28. His letters from these locations contain none of the harsh invective he regularly hurled at the Iberian population and (especially) its religion. He complains of the heat and the scorpions and notes that Greek women kept behind blinds in their homes “are about as badly off as if they were in prison.” However, his descriptions of Greek religious ceremonies are characterized by an open sense of curiosity. He describes the activities of the ‘papa’ of an Orthodox Church during the sacraments without ascribing ulterior motives. During one ceremony commemorating the death of a rich Greek merchant bread was “distributed to the people according as they needed it, the wealthy only received a very small loaf, while the poor man with a family got one from six or ten or twelve pound in weight.” Wheeler refers to the priest in the church at Argostoli as ‘the old chap.’ On Gregorian-style Christmas, 1825 the 51st distributed plum puddings and were rewarded on “Old Christmas” with “bread, lambs, turkeys, etc.” Overall, his description of Greek society is quite sympathetic and without hostile preconceptions17. And yet the society he describes, a peasant community, served by a Church notable for its enthusiasm for ceremonial events and faced with a serious bandit problem is quite similar to that of Spain and Portugal. The differences are the lack of any sense of historical animosity18, of course, and the prevalence of peace. The British soldiers in the Ionian Islands may have been frequently drunk and even indulged in petty theft, but they never had to seize food to survive. Whether British troops might have enjoyed more amicable relations with the Iberian population in peace-time must remain a matter of conjecture. The Peninsular War ended in a great triumph for Britain and her Army. British Expeditionary forces to the continent had endured repeated forced evacuations during the era of the French Wars; three times from Holland alone in 1795, 1799 and 1809. During the same period tens of thousands of redcoats had died of disease from what were popularly seen as pointless expeditions to the West Indies. The continuous presence of the British Army from 1808-14 (despite the evacuation from Corunna in 1809 a garrison at Lisbon had been maintained throughout) and the unbroken string of victories in pitched battles gained during that period transformed the Army’s reputation. However, as this account has shown the story of the Peninsular War was not one of unsullied triumphs

17 He does present a somewhat problematical description of Orthodox Easter on Corfu: “…they utter horrid curses on the Jews, who are obliged to keep out of the way until Easter is over or they would be murdered. The part of the town the Jews occupy is barricaded and they go in and out in two gates. These gates are shut at 9 o’clock every night of the year, but from Good Friday until the Easter holidays are over the Greeks are so devilish religious it is necessary to have a guard of soldiers at each of the gates.” 18 See by comparison Wheeler’s description of the on the concluding page of this chapter.

110 gained ‘cleanly’ against worthy French opponents. The British troops acted in concert with Portuguese and Spanish armies amidst an alien civilian population. The latter suffered quite a bit at the hands of their liberators who in turn regarded themselves as being regularly ill-used by the people they had come to ‘save’ from the French. This tension was a constant factor in the campaign. When it exploded, especially during the Army’s two great retreats it threatened to undermine all the efforts of the Allied commanders to maintain harmony between soldiers and civilians. However, it also served the interest of the British Army by providing a means for the soldiers to define themselves. If their Allies were to be despised as soldiers than victories gained reflected more brightly on the British. And perhaps as significantly, a civilian population that existed in a state of sullen hostility towards the Army would never encourage deserters in its midst. Just as the British troops spared French prisoners at Badajoz while venting their rage at Spanish civilians so they were more likely to desert in the country of their ‘admired’ enemy than they were in those of their Allies. The dogged persistence of anti-Spanish feeling among British soldiers was clearly expressed by Private Wheeler of the 51st in a letter to his parents written in August 1812. He was billeted near a monastery in Madrid. There was unusually little tension between the Army and the Spanish populace at this time as rations were plentiful and the British were embraced as liberators of Spain’s capital19. Pvt. Wheeler became acquainted with an Irish monk named Kelly who introduced him to other English-speaking members of his order. Wheeler wrote of them: Altho I found them agreeable companions I cannot but feel a great degree of prejudice against the priesthood of the Church of Rome. I have read the history of (what is called) “the Holy Inquisition” and what is daily passing before my eyes strengthens me in my opinion that the priests only want to establish this infernal court again. Thanks to Napoleon for abolishing it; he has done Spain much harm, but this one mighty act has in a great measure, counterbalanced all the mischief he has done. Private Wheeler was subsequently wounded in the Battle of the Pyrenees and was by all evidence a dedicated British soldier. His studied distaste for his country’s allies did not weaken his resolve. If anything it strengthened his own sense of British national feeling by keeping him apart from his hosts; no matter how hospitable they were to him.

19 Cpl. James Brierly of the 7th Fusiliers described the liberation of the Spanish capital: “The whole population came to meet us even with tears of joy…I assure you it was no small gratification to an Englishman to walk the streets of Madrid on that night and to be hailed by the immense and happy crowd as the deliverers of their country.” Unfortunately this sense of euphoria came to an end with the retreat of Wellington’s Army in October 1812 when “ on this retreat the whole army suffered the greatest hardships that soldiers are liable too” and inter-allied relations deteriorated dramatically. Brierly Journal. Royal Fusiliers Museum.

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V. “REDCOATS AND HESSIANS:” British Soldiers and the Experience of War in Northern Europe “Had the number of troops Wellington commanded all been British, the contest would not have lasted so long, nor would the French have left the field with so large a fragment as did escape the army. But he had to trust to the Belgians and others in places where they very early in the day showed the seam of their stocking to the enemy.1” – Sgt. John Douglas, 1st Regiment (Royal Scots)

“The Cockpit of Europe” – This was the appellation frequently applied to the Plains of Flanders in the 18th century. For it was here that armies clashed over ground conducive to pitched battles fought with the linear tactics of the era; and on which ever more sophisticated fortresses were constructed throughout the Early Modern era. It was also the ground on which the Bourbon and Habsburg empires met and on which British expeditions could be most easily dispatched. The Duke of Marlborough won three of his greatest victories in Flanders; Ramillies, Oudenarde and Malplaquet. And the Duke of Cumberland suffered three great defeats; at Fontenoy, Lauffeldt and Xanthen. During the era we are studying five distinct British military enterprises were launched in the Low Countries; in 1793-95, 1799, 1809, 1813-14 and 1815. The first four, despite a number of tactical successes, ended in failure; the first three resulting in the ignominious evacuation of the British forces engaged. The fifth saw the complete defeat of the French Empire and the winning of the most celebrated of all the British Army’s Battle Honors: Waterloo. The Low Countries were Europe’s seat of Battle and for that reason it’s appropriate to look at the question of Combat motivation when discussing them. Edward Shils’ famous studies of the combat motivations of German and American soldiers in the Second World War remain the benchmark works on this topic. Both were the results of interviews carried out shortly after the end of the War with hundreds of veterans. The findings stressed the vital importance of primary groups to the average soldier; that is the men immediately around him in his squad, platoon or company; “a survey of enlisted men showed that nine-tenths of them believed that soldiers are greatly concerned with the opinion in which they are held by the other men of their unit.” Other factors, such as patriotism and political ideology, were accorded lesser importance2 by both Wehrmacht and US Army veterans. What mattered was unit cohesion and familiarity. However, the Wehrmacht study pointed to common ethnicity as promoting such cohesion: “In the Wehrmacht, desertions and surrenders were most frequent in groups of heterogeneous ethnic composition in which Austrians, Czechs and Poles were randomly mixed with each other.” The effect of ethnicity on similar US units was not addressed. The study also found that “the Waffenn SS” was highly esteemed by the Wehrmacht soldiers but this was due to its “fighting capacity” rather than its ideological fervor. The seemingly logical question, did ideological fervor promote the Waffen SS’s fighting capacity, was unasked.

1 As we shall see Douglas was not alone in his estimation of the role of the British troops at Waterloo. John Douglas. Douglas’ Tale of the Peninsula and Waterloo. (London: Leo Cooper) 1997. 163 2 Although 70% of American veterans of the Pacific theater and 83% of those from the Mediterranean theater also avowed that “prayer helped a lot.”

112 Shils’ study generally derided the significance of either patriotism or hatred of the enemy as a motivating factor; although he did acknowledge that the latter feeling was notably more prevalent among American troops in the Pacific than the Atlantic. More recent studies by Stephen Fritz and Eric Bergerud have tended to restore the significance of xenophobia as one motivation for combat soldiers; this without in denying the significance of unit cohesion and personal familiarity as motivating factors. Rather they see a clearly defined enemy as a factor of promoting such cohesion. The training of British soldiers in the 18th century was not specifically aimed at promoting individual initiative. Rather it consisted of teaching by rote. However, occasionally a manual of the era reminds the reader of the human element. Capt Thomas Simes’ work points out that war doesn’t necessarily consist of well-choreographed maneuvers. He counseled officers to develop a drill to rapidly form dispersed troops: The great advantage of this consists in a regiment being able to form in a moment; therefore every Officer, Non-commissioned Officer, and private man, must know his right hand man…that he may, with utmost agility, be formed ready for whatever may present itself. This is one of the few hints in 18th century training manuals that private soldiers should be encouraged to form special ties of comradeship with their fellow soldiers; especially with the man on their immediate right in the firing line. The practice of selecting individual ‘comrades’ was never official policy for the Army as a whole3. However, a number of memoirs describe soldiers having particular mates. Private John Macfarlane of the 71st Regiment describes an old soldier, Daniel McInnes, “who took me for a comrade” on joining the Regiment. McInnes and McFarlane shared a blanket during the retreat to Corunna. However, they became separated and McInnes was captured. MacFarlane then chose another man as a comrade, from whom he was separated during the evacuation. He later met up with him in England where he showed signs of brain fever from which he shortly died. If this account reads dryly it is as a result of the reticence of its source material. MacFarlane alludes to his comrades only rarely and devotes most of his work to his personal vicissitudes and those of the Army as a whole. Sgt. William Lawrence of the 40th Regiment mentions two especially close comrades, George Bowden and an Irishman, ‘Pig” Harding; the latter so-called “owing to his always being on the look out for any cheap pieces he could lay his hands on.” The three soldiers’ exploits tend to revolve around plundering expeditions. There doesn’t appear to be any military significance to their friendship. Rather their comraderie centered on other pursuits:

3 The 95th Rifles, trained to fight as , explicitly stressed the importance of comradeship in their Regulations written by Col. Coote Manningham in 1800: Every Corporal, Private and bugler will select a comrade of the ranks differing from his own, ie, front and rear rank, and is never to change him without permission of his captain. Comrades are always to have the same berth in quarters; and, in either barracks or the field, will form the same file on parade and go on the same duties with arms. The British Riflemen, despite their specialization, still drilled in line and were able to carry out linear maneuvers (such as forming square to receive cavalry) with equal celerity as their “line” counterparts; thus the continued emphasis on “front and rear rank.”

113 And hearing a report likewise that if we succeeded in taking the place, there was to be three hours plunder, we had planned to meet at a silversmith’s shop that we knew about, poor Pig even providing himself with a piece of wax candle to light us if needed4. Both of Lawrence’s mates were killed at Badajoz. Lawrence, distraught at the loss, “resolved then that I would never make any more engagements under the same fearful circumstances.” And during the rest of his narrative he doesn’t single out any particular soldiers as comrades. The most explicit description of the formation of a “pair-bond” between two comrades as an expected part of military life comes from Sgt. Joseph Donaldson of the 94th Regiment. As described in chapter One, Donaldson was despoiled of his bounty money by his fellow soldiers shortly after joining the Regiment. After walking along the sea-side in Edinburgh he was approached by an Irishman named Dennis. He had not requested anything of Donaldson during the time of the recruit’s ‘prosperity.’ Now he addressed him somewhat formally: I have waited until now to speak to you, for I would not say a word while the bounty lasted…I have come to say that if you choose you can be my comrade, for mine left me before you came to the room, to go along with a recruit; and now, that his bounty is finished, he wishes to come back again; but I hate such meanness, and would never associate with a fellow of his description; however I think you and I will agree. This offer was readily accepted by Donaldson. Dennis was illiterate but possessed of an acute intelligence and possessed ‘a fund of honour that never would allow him to stoop to a mean action. This tie remained constant for the rest of Donaldson’s military career. In general what is remarkable about British soldiers’ memoirs is their lack of concern with the ‘primary-group’ relationships described by Professor Shils. It is possible that the practice of forming especially close friendships with particular soldiers was so general as to require no explicit mention. However, with little attention devoted by our memorialists to such relationships we have to look at combat ‘motivators’ that they do describe. It must be further asserted that most of the soldiers are not forthcoming on the subject of their motivations in general. Sergeant Lawrence describes bayoneting a French NCO to death during a sortie from Badajoz. Both opponents had fired off their weapons just as they came upon each other. The Frenchman thrust at Lawrence and over-balanced himself; Lawrence then impaled him to the ground before he had a chance to rise. Later it occurred to Lawrence that he could have taken the Frenchman prisoner but as the latter was a powerful man, Lawrence might ‘have suffered’ for the attempt. Thus he concludes that “perhaps in such times my plan was the best – kill or be killed.” This attitude leaves little room for analysis5.

4 5 Pvt. Eadie of the 79th describes a similar encounter during the street-fighting at Fuentes de Onoro in 1811. As the Regiment charged into a French column Eadie noted that “the person with whom I had to encounter in this trying and dreadful moment, rather exhibited an athletic appearance.” This was the only reflection he had time for as the Frenchman thrust his bayonet at the Highlander’s face. Eadie dodged and then “without losing one moment’s opportunity I rushed on him, and putting by his musket…I buried my bayonet in his breast..” Eadie swiftly removed his bayonet and his adversary “fell, and was among the slain.” As in Lawrence’s case the action did not require abstract motivation to explain it. However, Eadie later reflected as British and French troops mingled together burying bodies that the “National animosity and national prejudice” that HAD previously animated them disappeared after a battle.

114 The anonymous sergeant of the 43rd provides one of the only detailed descriptions of motivating factors in combat. His conjectures are part of his description of the desperate Battle of Sabugal, fought in Portugal in 1810. A British Light Infantry Brigade advancing at the head of Wellington’s Army against the retreating forces of Marshal Massena was exposed to the counter-attack of an entire French Corps. Remarkably the British Light troops, trained as Line Infantry in addition to being skirmishers beat off the French and actually drove their assailants from the field: as the sergeant reminds the reader “Lord Wellington afterwards observed that this was one of the most glorious actions that British troops ever sustained.” He adds that the Light Brigade “upheld our national honour” in beating off the French attacks. This is generally about as thorough as most memorialists go in looking at their own and their comrades’ motivations. However, here the sergeant digs further. On the day of battle the troops evinced a ‘determined firmness” that “amounted almost to invincibility.” Further: During the action there was to be observed through our ranks a fierce and terrible anger, before the breaking forth of which the enemy quailed and fled. This anger came about “partly from a sense of extreme personal danger;” the situation the Brigade found itself in a desperate one. Another vital motivation was “the desire which I believe pervaded every breast, of properly supporting the officers engaged.” In Shils analysis the importance of officers as examples is discussed and the sergeant of the 43rd describes his officers as exemplars of courage in battle. This rare analysis then lists anger and a desire to emulate the behavior of officers as primary motivations with a desire to uphold national honour and an awareness of the necessity of self-preservation as secondary. Patriotism may not have been uppermost at the moment of contact with the French but it still was clearly on the sergeant’s mind and he drew satisfaction from upholding his country’s reputation. In this context I would like to present assertions of patriotic feeling made by British soldiers not as a primary motivation for individual actions but as a pervading sensibility. Thus the following description of the Battle of Vimiero by Pvt. Thomas Howell of the 71st Regiment does not describe his actions as primarily being motivated by national feeling but does allude to the significance of that feeling nonetheless: In our first charge I felt my mind waver, a breathless sensation came over me. The silence was appalling. I looked alongst the line. It was enough to assure me. The steady, determined scowl of my comrades assured my heart and gave me determination. How unlike the noisy advance of the French! Thus Pvt. Howell is reassured by the stoical nature of his comrades; a stoicism that is to him uniquely British. Cpl. William Brierly of the 7th Fusiliers is more explicit in describing his patriotic feelings at the crossing of the Nivelle River into France in 1813. He believed that the Army was elated by earlier successes in the Pyrenees and eager to engage the enemy “on French soil, where British superiority in valor had so often stood the test of immense superiority in numbers, at Cressy, Poitiers and Agincourt names to Englishmen of grand exultation.” He further exults in the knowledge that a “British Army headed by a Briton

115 enter(ed) a territory which only some months before had been boastingly termed ‘sacred’”6. A further expression of the importance of Britishness to the common soldier is expressed by Pvt. Joseph Coates in describing the successful landing at Aboukir Bay in 1801. Fired on continuously as they left the landing boats Coates’ company was formed into line by “our brave Captain Gough” and “with a British cheer” rushed the French “who took to their heels” scarcely firing another shot. Each regiment taking part in the amphibious assault had of necessity to fight separated from support yet each showed ‘the characteristic intrepidity of the British Army” and gaining its particular objective. Coates finishes his description of the achievement by stating that any such enterprise ‘requires a firmness and resolution which is perhaps peculiar to a British Army.” Once again a sense of national duty may not have been uppermost in the private’s mind in the course of charging over the beach yet an underlying sense of national feeling girded him in his actions. Such expressions are in fact ubiquitous in soldiers’ memoirs and make a strong case for the importance of national feeling to their authors. One further incident, although not directly related to combat assists in understanding the importance of national feeling to British soldiers. Sgt. Edward Costello of the 95th was wounded at the storming of Badajoz. He initially attempted to stay out of the hospital but could not keep up with his Regiment and was finally forced to accept a period of convalescence. He was committed to a base hospital near Salamanca. A sergeant of the 95th, an Irishman named Michael Connelly, was in charge of Costello’s ward. Connelly was a ‘singular character’ who ‘drank like a whale,’ a failing that would lead to his death a short time later. However, while on duty in the ward, Connelly was ‘exceedingly attentive to the sick.’ The Irish sergeant was “particularly anxious that the British soldier, when dying, should hold out a pattern to the Frenchmen, who lay intermixed with us in the same wards.” Costello describes a harrowing example of Sgt. Connelly’s ministrations: “Hould your tongue, ye blathering devil…and don’t be after disgracing your country in the teeth of these ere furriners by dying hard. Ye’ll have the company at your burial won’t you? Ye’ll have the drums beating and the guns firing over ye, won’t you? Marciful God! What more do you want? Ye are not at Elvas, to be thrown into a hole like a dog – ye’ll be buried in a shroud and coffin, won’t you? For God’s sake, die like a man before these ere Frenchers.” Costello seems to genuinely respect Connelly’s efforts at maintaining Britain’s honor. Surely this is as harsh an example of the imperative of patriotic duty as could be found in any twentieth century army. Warfare in the Low Countries was not characterized solely by the flatness of its terrain and the frequency of battles. It was conducted in an atmosphere of comparative plenty. The Dutch and Belgian peasants lived in much the same fashion as English

6 Cpl. Brierly’s views are echoed somewhat more articulately by Willliam Surtees, the Quartermaster of the 2nd/95th Rifles: La Belle France…we gazed upon it with strange and mingled emotions, hardly believing it possible that we had now reached and entered the territory of that once formidable nation whose victorious armies had penetrated into the farthest confines of Europe, who had overrun and subdued some of the most warlike nations of the continent, and who had so often threatened and so often alarmed, the inhabitants of England with the invasion of that sacred soil, on which never yet a Frenchman has dared, in hostile array, to set his foot since the days of Norman William, but who met there either a prison or a grave.

116 farmers; if anything they might have been more prosperous and orderly. Above all they did not regularly engage in partisan warfare against contending armies. The attitudes of British soldiers to the peasants of the low countries is in marked contrast to that exhibited by Peninsular veterans towards the Spanish and Portuguese, let alone to those of troops on colonial campaigns. This relative sympathy had its limits, however, especially when the Army’s material circumstances deteriorated. During the Army’s retreat across Holland in 1794-95 conditions of open hostility prevailed despite the perceived cultural similarities between Hollanders and Britons. Sgt. Robert Brown of the Coldstream Guards’ account of the Flanders campaigns of 1793-95 is the only one left behind by a man from the ranks. He leaves no description of his personal background. His published diary commences with the arrival of British troops at Dort in April 1793. Brown’s description of the town is little less than enchanting: …the streets are regular and kept remarkably clean, as well as the outside of the houses which they are continually washing…But if we are struck with the neat appearance and cleanliness of the streets…we were much more so on seeing the inside, where every article of furniture...is kept in a state of cleanliness far exceeding anything we have been accustomed to in England. The country around the town is very pleasant…with delightful gardens, watered by small rivulets cut from rivers and canals. A more striking contrast from the descriptions of Lisbon left by Peninsular veterans is scarcely imaginable. Incidents of plundering occurred early in the campaign but these were, in Brown’s account, largely committed by the Austrians. He records that one Austrian plunderer was summarily executed by his officer on May 25, 1793. Brown’s sympathies lay entirely with the populace in these early depictions. The Austrians are at best without feeling and often willfully malicious: “nor do they content themselves with taking what is useful to them but destroy whatever they cannot carry away.” The campaign itself prospered in 1793 culminating in the capture of by York’s Army7. The campaign of 1794 was less successful as the attempt to take failed and the Allied Army had to retreat for the first time. British troops who had been well provided for during the previous year began to exceed their Austrian comrades in rapacity. Brown depicts two brutal incidents that occurred near the Belgian town of Vaux in April 1794. On the 9th two soldiers of the 14th Regiment, “following their usual practise,” in the words of the Guardsman Brown, broke into a private house. There they killed a woman and an infant when the former tried to defend her ‘little all.’ Both soldiers were executed. On the 19th Brown saw British soldiers attack, pillage and burn several farmhouses, although this time without blood shed. Again, in contrast to most Peninsular diarist Brown offers no mitigations for the seriousness of the soldiers’ crimes. Instead he asks how some human hearts can be “proof against every emotion of pity or humanity.” The cries of women and infants merely provoke “scorn and abuse” from the wantonly cruel soldiers.

7 The only civilians Brown speaks ill of are the former inhabitants of the ruins of the Convent of St. Amand near Mauberge where the Guards were billeted: “How would the bigots of superstition, in former days, have thundered against him who durst pollute their holy place in such a manner, whilst they, under the veil of sanctity, polluted it far worse, with their lustful abominations, with the beautiful but deluded daughters of their country…”

117 The retreat of the Allied armies after their defeat at in May, 1794 still saw Brown sympathetic to the inhabitants. He described Belgian peasants outside Brussels as forming “a most complete and finished picture of rural, industry, innocence and happiness.” He approved of a number of summary executions carried out by the Provost Marshals in an effort to stamp out “that scandalous and too prevalent practise of plundering” within the British Army. As the increasingly impoverished British force retreated into Holland the attitude of the peasants became increasingly hostile and Brown’s sympathy likewise eroded. The Dutch Army proved an unenthusiastic ally. On Oct. 24, 1794 Brown hopefully wrote: “We think it impossible for them (the French) to cross the if the Dutch stand true to their trust” The subsequent rout of Dutch troops disillusioned Brown as to the merits of that nation; both its army and its people. On hearing 800 Dutch soldiers had surrendered at he reflected: “the loss would not be great if they were all taken.” The retreat across Holland during winter 1794-5 deteriorated into a nightmare quite as terrible as the Retreat to Corunna. Increasingly the British troops plundered merely to survive. Brown describes the wholesome populace of Dort on the British Army’s return in Jan. 1795: The inhabitants are our most inveterate enemies and where opportunity offers will rather murder a poor, lost, distressed Englishman, than direct him the right way, several instances of which we have already known. Brown still blamed a handful of ‘skulking ’ among the Redcoats as the first cause of Dutch hostility but he understand why the Army as a whole has become “exasperated against the Dutch, for the inhuman treatment we have long experienced among them.” The Army’s conditions improved only upon entering German territory. proved to be a sanctuary prior to the evacuation of the Army’s survivors; almost a “fairy vision” in Brown’s colorful phrase. He contrasted the sympathetic Germans with the Dutch: Who in our greatest extremities, when we asked for anything to refresh ourselves, with the money in our hands, were answered only with a shrug of the shoulders, nix nix, nix bread, nix butter, nix beer, nix brandywine for the Englishmen. The evacuation of the British Army was carried out unmolested. Another expeditionary force would return to Holland four years later. The Duke of York’s Helder campaign of 1799 was not a disaster of the scale of the previous expedition. It was launched in the hopes of inspiring Dutch resistance to the French. In this aim it singularly failed. However, the British did engage in several successful combats with the French before once more being evacuated from the Continent. Lt. Col. Isaac Brock, who commanded the 49th Regiment, wrote of the Battle of Alkmaar that “The French soldier was taught to consider the British troops as the most undisciplined rabble in the world and he advanced confident of conquest; but this affair, and others which followed, made him very soon change his opinion.” Thus tactical successes did something to erase the memories of the collapse described by Sgt. Brown. The expedition also involved another unhappy attempt at inter-allied cooperation as a Russian force under General Hermann accompanied the British8.

8 Col. Brock describes the Russian army, after driving the French from the town of Bergen on Nov. 19, 1799, as dispersing ‘for the sake of plunder’ and then suffering a general collapse as a result of a French

118 Sergeant William Surtees, the future Quartermaster of the 2nd/95th Rifles, took part in the campaign as a private in the 56th Regiment. This battalion was composed almost entirely of militiamen who had been encouraged to join the Regulars. Their training prior to being committed to battle was rudimentary; in Surtees’ words, “we were (what shall I say) totally ignorant of (the) most essential parts of a soldier’s duty.” The young soldiers of the 56th were routed during the Battle of Egmont op Zee by a French assault column; an incident Surtees describes in frank terms: …as the fight became hotter…I regret to say, our young troops fell into considerable disorder and confusion. This giving the enemy greater confidence, of course he availed himself of it , and attacked us with redoubled impetuosity…our dismayed and disheartened young soldiers fell from one degree of confusion to another, till at length all order seemed entirely lost among us; and what was at first a rather regular retreat, became at last a disorderly flight…The flight now became more like a race than anything else, and I imagine they drove us not less than three or four miles without giving us chance to breathe.. Fortunately the routed troops fled towards the veterans of the 23rd Regiment who stopped and then drove off the victorious French column. Due to the brevity of the campaign Surtees had but few comments to make in regard to either the native inhabitants or the Russian allies. However, he does record an unusual instance of a senior officer engaging with common soldiers in a frank discussion of the campaign’s outcome. On Nov. 3, 1799 as the 56th marched towards the coast prior to being evacuated one of Surtees’ fellows articulated the hope that the next time British troops landed the they “would leave it under more favorable circumstances.” The Brigade commander General James Manners overheard this as he rode along the line of march and personally addressed the soldier: “Why,…although we are leaving the country, it is not from the enemy having compelled us to do so from his superior bravery or success in the field, for we have fought only five actions since landing, and in four of these we have been the conquerors; it is owing solely to the sickness and consequent inefficiency of the army that we have been compelled to this measure9. Surtees recalled how pleased he was at the ‘affability and kindness’ exhibited by the general in addressing common soldiers and in ascribing the results of the campaign to sources other than their own inexperience. The incident also reflects an understanding by General Manners of the importance for morale of the belief in the superiority of British troops over their enemies; perhaps especially for troops who’d had the experience of being routed.

counter-attack. Interestingly, given the British Army’s own experiences Brock ascribes the defeat to the Russians’ ‘colonial wars’ mindset: The (Russian) officers in general are the most despicable wretches I ever saw: accustomed, as they have always been, to fight with troops much inferior to themselves, they though themselves invincible…and thus never dreamed it possible from their former experience, for troops to rally after being once beaten. However, if the Russians suffered from a surfeit of the ‘wrong’ type of military experience in 1799 many of the British troops on the campaign would perform poorly as a result of having no experience whatsoever.

9

119 The British expedition to the Low Countries in 1809 was the largest ever dispatched to the Continent. Numbering over forty thousand strong it was more than twice the size of the force sent to the Peninsula under Sir Arthur Wellesley during the previous year. Its aim once again was to initiate a national uprising against the French while endeavoring to draw French troops from Central Europe (where Austria had declared War on France). It signally failed to achieve either goal as the Dutch and Belgians remained steadfastly inert while the Austrians were thoroughly defeated before the British effected their landing. Instead of striking a blow at Imperial France the British troops found themselves locked in a deadly struggle with what became known as Walcheren fever; this disease, probably a form of malaria, first struck the Army as it besieged the town of Flushing. The naturally miasmic conditions of the Low Countries were aggravated by the decision of the French command to open the dykes , inundating much of the country and facilitating the spread of the mosquito born disease. Perhaps half the British force was struck down by the illness which, though not quite so lethal as Yellow Fever did have the consequence of permanently undermining the health of the infected. “Walcheren” regiments became notorious for ill-health long after the campaign itself ended as the recurrent illness repeatedly wrecked havoc among them10. There are numerous accounts of the Walcheren campaign from soldiers serving in the ranks, however, few of these address questions of national feeling. They are primarily concerned with illness in a way that is comparable to accounts of West Indian campaigns11. Of the Dutch countryside Rifleman Benjamin Harris of the 95th Rifles does note that it ‘was extremely pleasant’ but has nothing to say of the inhabitants. Private Wheeler of the 51st describes an incident subsequent to the capture of the town of West Zuberg outside of Flushing that does point to a rather less brutal atmosphere than that which characterized the Peninsular War. As in the Peninsula British troops tended to the French wounded; ‘the very same soldiers, who an hour before were dealing destruction about them, tendering all the assistance in their power to the fallen enemy.’ Wheeler deeply approved of such humanitarian gestures and remarked of English forbearance, ‘What a boast to belong to such a country.” However, in Belgium there was no guerrilla war. Thus a Belgian landowner, observing the compassionate behavior of the British troops and remarking that ‘their enemy is treated with the same tenderness and compassion as their own comrades’ proceeded to award every redcoat present with gin from his own stock. In the

10 The full extent of the disaster was understood by the soldiers. An anonymous private of the 42nd Highlanders wrote: There was scarcely a man in our regiment who did not think the Walcheran expedition a very foolish thing. We were a fine army of men sent to an unhealthy climate to do nothing…I have often heard the men say they would rather have been landed on the Continent…let the consequences be what it would; and we thought we might have marched to Antwerp, and not lost half so many men as we lost by disease. These heart-felt opinions are similar to those of British soldiers in the Peninsula who repeatedly expressed a wish to turn and fight against odds during the great retreats of 1809 and 1812 rather than have to face physical exhaustion and starvation. 11 Survivors of the Walcheren expedition were sometimes used as garrison troops to recuperate. As late as March 1813 Judge-Advocate Larpent recorded of a draft of Walcheren survivors sent to the Peninsula: “Of two hundred men, a reinforcement to the 43rd light regiment Walcheren men, ninety have died.” Francis Larpent. The Private Journal of Judge-Advocate Larpent (Staplehurst: 2000) 64.

120 Peninsula Spanish and Portuguese attitudes towards the treatment of wounded Frenchmen were frequently less compassionate. The excellent qualities of the Flemings caused one Highland soldier to wax nostalgic for his own native land: I could not but admire these primitive people; they were kind and obliging to us, and in many things resembled the Lowlanders of Scotland: the same domestic intercourse, the same spirit of national pride and devotion, the same zeal for the institutions and religion of their fathers distinguish both people. This despite the fact that the Belgian civilians remained determinedly neutral throughout the campaign. Reading this soldier’s account one is led to the conclusion that the local peasants would have been less well-regarded by the British if they actually had launched a partisan war against the French. The British campaign of 1813-14 in the Low Countries was scarcely more auspicious than its three predecessors although it did not at least culminate in an evacuation. Rather it saw a modest force under Sir Thomas Graham being committed to the continent to cooperate with the enormous Allied armies invading France from the East; while at the same time encouraging the Dutch and Belgians to at last rise up against their oppressors. The results in both cases were tepid. The largest British military operation, an assault on the fortress town of Bergen op Zoom ended with the capture of most of the assailants while the Dutch-Belgians did not so much rebel against the French as calmly accept a new occupation force. The contribution of this British expedition to the Allied victory was distinctly minor when compared to that of the armies of the Eastern powers or that of the Peninsular army. The British troops expressed a generally favorable opinion of the Low Countries and of their inhabitants despite the relentless indifference of the latter to appeals to patriotism. Sgt. John Mueller of the 1st Guards waxed rhapsodic in his description of Brussels: One can scarce forget Dr. Johnson’s ‘Happy Valley’ when he views on one side the splendid works of art and on the other nature sporting all imaginable luxuriance. Mueller was impressed by the people as well. The men were ‘peaceable and steady’ and manifested such ‘goodness’ that the sergeant was surprised that there could be any crime among them at all. The closest thing to a confrontation between Mueller’s company and the Dutch took place at Fynaart on April 15, 1814. On this occasion the British troops plundered the madder fields of the farmer they were billeted upon. In retaliation that gentlemen emptied a basket of potatoes onto the floor of his kitchen rather than distributing them to the soldiers. Mueller was impressed by this display of peaceful ‘sensibility’ and judged that his hosts were not polite merely out of natural apathy; they were rather ‘ornaments to human society’ in their restraint and hospitality. How dramatically this assertion contrasts to the opinions expressed by British soldiers in regard to the inhabitants of the Iberian Peninsula I leave to the reader to judge12.

12 It’s hardly surprising in this context that Mueller approvingly notes the latitudinarianism of Belgian Catholics. Describing a great statue of the Virgin he notes that: Its but seldom that one notices individuals lifting their caps to her…in these matters they are far less scrupulous than the Spanish who very seldom pass either church or image without some visible sign of respect.

121 Mueller’s highly positive judgments of both Dutch and Belgians were reinforced by his experiences after the ill-fated assault on Bergen op Zoom. Mueller was slightly wounded when his detachment was captured early in the assault. Wounded British prisoners were placed in a private house near the harbor; they were unguarded by their hard-pressed captors simply being left in the care of the lady of the house. This latter and her young daughter made numerous trips to their well to bring water to the wounded despite ‘the bustle and confusion that prevailed in every quarter.’ Mueller was deeply impressed by this lady’s exertions and saw her preservation as providential. He also explained the failure of the city’s inhabitants to rise up during the British assault as being entirely the result of the harsh measures taken by the French authorities. Mueller provided further evidence of the burghers’ good intentions by alluding to their sheltering a number of British soldiers after the failure of the attack. Most of these fugitives were ultimately handed over to the French but only after the inhabitants were threatened with ‘severe penalties’ by their occupiers. Mueller’s opinions are seconded by Sgt. Thomas Morris of the 2nd/73rd who served in the Low Countries during the 1813-14 campaign as well; although fortunately being spared the storm of Bergen op Zoom. Rather his battalion, after taking part in a number of small, successful engagements against the French formed part of the blockading force around Antwerp. During this period local inhabitants regularly brought provisions and occasionally Schnapps to the redcoats. Thus Morris (and his presumably his comrades) shared Mueller’s favorable opinion of the inhabitants. This inclination was given a powerful reinforcement after the French evacuated Antwerp. The 2nd/73rd formed part of the new garrison. The ‘cheapness of ardent spirits’ readily available in the city led to ‘great deal of drunkenness and crime’ among the soldiers. The authorities’ response to these outbreaks was the cat o’nine tails. A drummer of the 2nd/73rd, ‘young, small and weakly,’ was among the defaultors. He fainted several times during his punishment causing ‘horror and disgust’ among the Belgian onlookers. These latter sent a formal protest to the British authorities against public floggings and the punishments were curtailed. Soldiers were instead sentenced to solitary confinement or extra guard duty while pulling a block of wood ‘fastened by a chain to the leg.’ Morris was profoundly moved by the burghers’ intervention although rather shamed by the brutality both of his comrades and their officers. Unlike the 1st Guards, who landed in Holland, Morris’ battalion was put ashore in Pomerania and marched across North Germany. They first encountered the French in at the town of Gohrde. An assault on the French position had failed just as the 2nd/73rd reached the field. The German commander, Count Walmoden, addressed Lt. Col. William Harris: ‘Colonel, I am glad you are come; I want that hill taken!’ pointing to the one with the two pieces of cannon, and about a thousand men on it. ‘Will you charge them, Colonel?’ ‘Yes, Sir,’ was the answer. ‘Well,’ said the German, ‘I shall send a

This is another cultural factor that warmed the sergeant to his hosts. During the Waterloo campaign Pvt. Wheeler of the 51st, a writer notable for his aversion to Iberian Catholicism seconded this interpretation when he wrote from Belgium: The established religion of Flanders is of the Church of Rome, but there is a wide difference between these people and the people of the Peninsular. They do not appear to be so priest- ridden…and the inhabitants are very neat and clean in their persons…

122 Hanoverian battalion to assist you.’ On which our colonel observed, ‘Let us try it ourselves, General first; and if we fail, then you assist us.’ Then addressing the Regiment he said, ‘Now my lads, you see what we have to do; we are the only Regiment of English in the field; don’t lest us disgrace ourselves!’ A hearty cheer from the men was the assurance they would do their duty. Col Harris then loudly ordered the quartermaster to procure Schnapps to be ready for the men after the attack. He proceeded to lead the assault which was met by no more than a single volley followed by the precipitate flight of the defenders. Morris believed that the sight of the British colors had been enough to unnerve the French who had previously only had to contend with Hanoverian troops. Morris alludes to number of occasions during the blockade of Antwerp when the appearance of the Union Jack was enough to convince French defenders to abandon a position. As brilliantly as such incidents reflected on the redcoats they also raise questions as to relations between the latter and their German allies. German and British troops fought side by side in each of Britain’s wars with France in the 18th century. The relationship was rarely a troubled one but it was not a love match either. Many accounts by Hessian officers of the American War of Independence survive. These are generally remarkable for the lack of attention they pay to their Allies13. British accounts generally mirror this indifference and give further evidence of a lack of interaction. Redcoats and bluecoats often seem to be fighting distinct if parallel wars. Descriptions of friction are rare but generally point to British abrasiveness as a cause of difficulty. Thus this remarkable description from an anonymous Hessian chaplain serving on in 1776; he first criticizes General Howe’s dilatoriness in pursuing the rebels: The hesitation of the English general made them (the Germans) impatient, but still more the proud insulting look which the English are wont to cast on the Germans. This last not infrequently caused a bloody scene. The chaplain then recounts the case of a Jaeger subaltern who was assailed ‘by an Englishman in his cups’ with the declamation: “God damn you, Frenchy, you take our pay!” The outraged Hessian replied: “I am a German and you are a shit.” This was followed by an impromptu duel with hangars in which the Englishman received a fatal wound. The chaplain records that General Howe pardoned the Jaeger officer and issued orders advising that ‘the English should treat the Germans as brothers.’ This order began to have influence only when “our Germans, teachable as they are” had learned “to stammer a little English.” Apparently this was a prerequisite for the British troops to show the Germans any affection14.

13 There are a total of six references to specific British units in Ray Pettingall’s 250 page compilation of Hessian “Letters from America 1776-1779.” This paucity of references is quite as pronounced on the British side. On campaign this meant that the Royal army was generally divided into British and German . This was very evident in the where a number of smaller engagements were fought exclusively by each national contingent. Thus the force destroyed by the Americans at Bennington was almost exclusively German. 14 The German officers occasionally expressed disapproval of the English for their harshness to the rebels. Writing from Long Island in September 1776, Capt. Willi Hinrichs noted: ‘seldom or never did I find a house with the inhabitants in it where war and the wantonness of the English had not ruined everything.’ The aforementioned

123 Johann Philip von Krafft was a Saxon nobleman who through a series of personal misadventures found himself serving in the ranks of the Hessian von Donop Regiment. In August 1779 he recorded a series of conflicts between British and German troops garrisoning New York …in our neighborhood one hears and sees nothing good. The English soldiers, especially those of Lord Raden’s (Rawdon’s) corps, perpetrate daily the grossest highway robberies and even kill. One night some English soldiers attacked a Hessian Grenadier Sergeant with their , wounded him in many places, robbed him of everything and left him lying on the spot, where he soon after died… Krafft goes on to say that such incidents were common and occurred in broad daylight. However, he does not point out that Lord Rawdon’s were a Loyalist unit composed mostly of deserters from the American army. British troops were the aggressors in another incident recorded by a British officer, Lt. Frederick Mackenzie of the 23rd Regiment. The 54th Regiment was relieved of its outpost duties at Paulus Hook New Jersey, by the Anhalt-Zerbst Regiment on Aug. 20, 1780. The former regiment had ‘made a number of little Gardens’ during their extended stay and expected the Germans to pay for the privilege of reaping what the British had sown. When the Anhalters demurred the British troops began ‘to pull up the Cabbages and other things to carry them off.’ The Germans attempted to prevent this action by force. Fortunately a number of officers interfered separating the two sides. Lt. Mackenzie concludes that “the 54th were certainly wrong in this matter, and did much wanton damage to the Gardens.” If the officers of both parties had not intervened ‘disagreeable consequences might have ensued.’ The Anglo-German relationship could become far less amicable in times of stress. During the retreat through Holland during the winter of 1794-95 Germans and Britons competed ferociously for food and shelter. Sgt Robert Brown of the 1st Guards described a particularly harrowing confrontation that occurred at Bickbarge on Jan. 16, 1795. The remnants of Brown’s company attempted to find shelter for the night. However, they discovered: Every house…already filled with Hessian infantry, who are in no respects friendly to the English. In several houses they positively refused us entrance, and in every one refused us admittance to the fire…

Hessian chaplain criticized the English for killing rebel prisoners at the Battle of Long Island: “many among them were Germans, and that cut me doubly to the heart.” Cpl. von Krafft records a discussion with a farmer’s wife in New Jersey whose home had been plundered by the British: “she said she saw very plainly there was no truth in what people had told her of the Hessians, namely that they were cruel.” Rather it was the “English alone” who were at fault. Lt. Frederick Mackenzie of the 23rd, by comparison, recounts this exchange: The Inhabitants of...(Long) Island being principally Quakers, are exceedingly alarmed at the appearance of the Hessian troops, and under great dread of them. A Quaker told me today, that as the Rebels were now driven off the Island, he hoped the General would send all the Hessians on board the ships again. Whichever account one accepts there can be little doubt that national divisions were rarely banished entirely from the minds of soldiers of Howe’s Army.

124 The Hessians ‘posted sentries’ over the cellar doors of the residences to prevent the inhabitants from selling food or liquor to their allies (the latter, perhaps, an understandable precaution). A Hessian colonel physically evicted a number of redcoats from his own quarters. Brown and his comrades ultimately had to seize one of the dwellings ‘partly by force, and partly by stealth’ to obtain any semblance of shelter. This account must be balanced by the numerous positive references made to German troops among British soldiers’ accounts of the Peninsular War. During this struggle the King’s German Legion served in British uniforms and was closely integrated with British units in most of the Divisions of Wellington’s army. There are few descriptions of foreigners of any nation in soldiers’ writings to match the praise regularly accorded to the KGL. Sgt. Edward Costello of the 95th Rifles recorded that he: “always entertained a high respect for our Germans, which indeed they ever showed themselves deserving of…from their determined bravery and discipline in the field.” He was particularly impressed by the German cavalrymen “who seldom thought of food or rest” for themselves until they had seen their hoses provided for. In this the Germans were superior to the more mercurial British who were frequently careless in maintaining their mounts and had a habit of riding them nearly to death. Costello believed this contrast expressed a ‘difference of custom between the two countries.’ Costello had a particular incentive to praise the Germans. After the retreat from Talavera he spent a period in hospital with ‘ague.’ He returned to the Army in March 1810 along with eight other recoats led by a German officer. Costello and his compatriots were apprehended stealing wine from a Portuguese vintner. The Provost-Marshal ordered each man to receive a summary punishment of twenty-four lashes. However, the German officer, despite having his escutcheon well and truly blotted by the British troops refused to administer the Punishment. He addressed the defaultors: I have been told to have you mens flogged for a crime dat is very bad and disgraceful to de soldier – robbing de people you come paid to fight for. But we do not flog in my country (Hanover), so I shall not flog you, it not being the manner of my people… Costello’s high regard for the King’s German Legion is hardly surprising in this context15. The Waterloo campaign marked the high point of Anglo-German cooperation in the Wars against Imperial France. It was, of course, the most successful of the British army’s interventions in the Low Countries during the period 1793-1815 as well. It saw an Allied army under the command of the Duke of Wellington and Marshal first repulse and then destroy the Grande Armee rebuilt by Napoleon after his escape from Elba in March 1815. The British contingent numbered nor more than 17,000 out of a total

15 Costello had considerably less use for the Brunswick troops serving with Wellington’s Army. These served as an Allied contingent under their own officers. They consisted of numerous freed Prisoners-of- War as well as Brunswick émigrés (Pvt. Wheeler noted that they ‘get many from the Prisons’). Costello recalled that after the Brunswickers arrival “one of our least amusing duties soon consisted in watching them, to prevent their deserting to the enemy.” These (as opposed to ‘our’) Germans possessed another distasteful attribute as well: These allies were gifted (with) a canine appetite, that induced them to kill and eat all the dogs they could privately lay hold of. By this means the different dogs of the division disappeared before the Germans with a celerity truly astonishing… The 95th’s own mascot, ‘Rifle’ was ‘devoured by the insatiable jaws of the Brunswickers.’

125 of well over 200,000 men. That its contribution was disproportionately great, leading among other things, to a casualty rate of fully 50% among the troops engaged is, I believe, indisputable. However, the full extent and significance of the British contribution to the Allied victory remains mired in controversy. As alluded to in the introduction to this chapter, two particular points of contention concern the combat performance of Dutch-Belgian and German troops under Wellington’s own command and the ultimate significance of the Prussian Army’s role at the Battle of Waterloo itself. In the present study I will attempt to convey the opinions of British soldiers serving in the ranks in regard to these two still contentious questions16. Their interpretations may serve not only to illuminate actual events, but even more importantly (from my own perspective) to convey ever more explicit expressions of national feeling on the part of the soldiers themselves. The British troops who formed part of Wellington’s army were drawn from two sources; veteran units from the Peninsula and the bulk of the army that had taken part in General Graham’s 1813-14 campaign in the Low Countries. These latter had remained in occupation in Belgium after Napoleon’s first exile. They had never served under Wellington and in general had seen far less active service than the Peninsular regiments. The bulk of the British troops that had served in the Peninsula were dispatched to America during the latter part of 1814. Only a single brigade of these veterans managed to return in time for the Waterloo campaign. The British troops were arriving in Belgium throughout the period March-June 1815 and thus had only limited experiences of the Low Countries prior to the French invasion. Pvt. Wheeler’s Regiment, the 51st, arrived in April and he did manage to write two letters conveying his impressions of the country, including remarks (see above) concerning the Catholic Church in Belgium, before the campaign commenced. Wheeler was billeted on a tobacconist in Brussels. He found this ‘the best of quarters’ with his host’s wife preparing soldiers’ meals and gin and tobacco in abundance. Of the dispositions of the Belgians he recorded “the people are remarkably kind to us.” On June 13th he wrote: “Since we have been here I have not heard of a single fall out between any of our men and the people.” He even admonished a party of drunken officers who had knocked over a fountain statue belonging to ‘the good people’ of the town17. Sgt. Morris, the one member of Graham’s army to leave an account of the Waterloo campaign (and thus a soldier whose entire service overseas had been spent in the Low Countries) became somewhat skeptical of Belgian friendship. After news arrived of Bonaparte’s abdication the people of Antwerp had ‘participated largely in the general joy and rejoicing at the successful termination of the war.’ However, during the intervening year, the sergeant noted that the Belgians had become alienated from their new Dutch rulers:

16 In this context the date of the soldiers’ reminiscences may be of exceptional significance. The vexing debate over whether or not ‘Blucher saved Wellington’ became ever more acrimonious as the years progressed. Statements made in the immediate aftermath of the Battle are thus less likely to be tainted as rationalizations for British failures. 17 Private Charles Stanley of the King’s Dragoon Guards expressed similarly warm feelings towards the Belgians in his only surviving letter, dated May, 15 1815: “this is the finest Cuntrey Exer I So far before England the peepul is so Sivel thare land Coltevated so well most of them as a little land and they Havit as Clen as Jentelmas Garden”

126 …the proclamation of the (now) King of Holland, in reference to the incorporation of the two countries was very unpopular; so much so, that where we were (Coutrai), they could not prevail on any of the inhabitants to assist in their reading of it; and that duty had to be performed under a guard of British bayonets. It was easy then to predict, that the union of the two countries, different in religion, language, customs and manners, would exist only as long as a foreign army was there to enforce it. Morris did not, however, anticipate any active uprising on the part of the Belgians for Napoleon; of his hosts in he wrote: ‘to us indeed they were civil; but they evidently were most attached to the French interest18.’ Their lack of enthusiasm for their new government would rather be expressed by the tepid performance of Belgian soldiers during the campaign. Of these latter Private Wheeler related his impressions in a letter written on the day after the Battle of Waterloo. As the 51st marched through the town of Nivelles on June 16 they were approached a force of “heavey Cavalry belonging to Belgium.” The British troops ‘halted to let them pass’ thinking they were merely ‘changing their position.” Instead: We found they were running away, helter skelter, the Devil take the hindmost. They were fine looking fellows and much resembled our Blues, but this all can be said of them except that they were the rankest cowards that ever formed part of an army. This could scarcely an impression that Wheeler created for himself long after the Battle had been fought19. The Waterloo campaign can said to have commenced on the evening of June 15, 1815 as the first French troops crossed the border in Belgium. Initially they were opposed only by the Dutch-Belgian troops of Wellington’s army and a small force of Prussians who were stationed at the point of juncture between Wellington’s and Blucher’s armies. It was at this potential zone of fracture between the Allied armies that Napoleon launched his attack; an initiative that took his opponents quite by surprise. Sgt. Robertson of the 92nd Highlanders described an encounter with retreating Prussians early on the 16th: …we met a number of wagons conveying Prussian soldiers who had been wounded the day before, who told us that the French wee driving all before them, and that we were greatly needed. As we were too apt to entertain bad opinions we suspected treachery on the part of the foreigners and that we should have to retreat; for we did not credit much what the Prussians told us of the affair. However, as the Highlanders approached the village of Quatre Bras they became increasingly convinced that the ‘foreigners’ were indeed hard-pressed; ‘in fact.’ writes Robertson, ‘we were all anxious to assist the poor Belgians, who were but young soldiers, and consequently little experienced in military affairs.’ The Battle of Quatre Bras was one of the hardest fought encounters of the Napoleonic Wars although, of course, overshadowed by the subsequent events. Allied troops arrived on the field piecemeal, often after marches of 8-10 hours in length, and had

18 Sgt Robertson of the 92nd Highlanders believed the troops billeted on the burghers of Ghent were ‘civilly used by them.’ Likewise were the inhabitants of Brussels, who ‘were very civil and kind to us.’ 19 Private Stanley described the Belgian civilians thusly: “tha are Sadley a frad of Boneys Harmey Coming a gane he Distrest them so before.”

127 to be immediately committed to withstand (fortunately, poorly coordinated themselves) French attacks. An anonymous sergeant of the 3rd/1st Foot Guards described the desperate state of his battalion: “Files upon files were carried out to the rear of the carnage…others fell back to get out ammunition and others were begging ammunition in the rear as theirs were all spent.” The surviving NCO’s took the extraordinary measure of jamming their pikes ‘lengthwise’ against the men’s backs; forming a sort of fence. The sergeant states that this was not a reflection on the men’s courage so much as a means of ‘steadying’ a line depleted by losses; and a means of convincing them to rely on the bayonet. He adds that such measures were necessary ‘for now depended the honour of Britain.’ For Sgt. Morris’ battalion, the 2nd/73rd the 16th of June was especially unfortunate. They were hastily brought forward in line of battle only to be assailed by French and ridden over20. Morris’ account of Quatre Bras is highly critical of the Allied commander-in-chief: “Though it is considered a sort of treason to speak against the Duke, yet I cannot help making a few observations upon the extraordinary fact, that we had neither artillery nor cavalry in the field.” The sole representative of these two arms being a German field artillery brigade which provided little support for the British. The British cavalry and artillery simply failed to reach Quatre Bras until the evening of the 16th. Morris understood that the dispersion of the allied forces made rapid concentration impossible and he cast no aspersions on the troops who failed to arrive that day. Instead, he asks frankly ‘Should it have been so?’ Why were such vital forces kept exclusively on the eastern portion of Wellington’s line and not brigaded with infantry? The Sergeant concluded “Fortunately for the Duke, the result was successful; had it been otherwise, he would have been deeply censured.21” It is perhaps not accidental that Morris, the only soldier-memorialist who seriously criticizes Wellington’s conduct during the Waterloo campaign, is also one of the few who did not serve in the Peninsula. The Battle of Waterloo was perhaps the severest ordeal endured by British troops in the Napoleonic War. It was the first engagement for which all survivors received a campaign medal. It also provides a number of instances which reaffirmed the significance of patriotism for the common soldier. The most famous instance of this is, of course, the “Scotland Forever!” charge launched by Pack’s brigade and the Scots Greys against

20 A fate shared by most of their Brigade. Pvt. George Hemingway of the 33rd recounts the experience in some detail in an account that stresses the importance of the French artillery who were carrying out their bombardment largely unopposed: …the officer of my Company I believe was the first that was killd in the Company but immidiatly after their was plenty lying on the ground. The enemy got a fair view of our Regiment…they send cannon shot as thick as hailstones…whe got up on our ground and seen a large colum of the French cavalry named the French Cuirseres advancing close upon us we immidiatly tried to form square to receive the cavalry but all in vain the cannon shot from the enemy brook down our square faster than whe could form it killed 9 and 10 men every shot…and shells bursting in a hundred pieces whe count not be accountable for the number of men that whe lost… The surviving British troops managed to retreat to the wood of Soignies where they beat back the cavalry and had time to reform; “but we mustred very small” in the aftermath. 21 Sgt. Robertson of the 92nd Highlanders recorded that “We…sustained considerable loss from the enemy’s cannon, as we had none with which to oppose them.” In addition, the British infantry was so thinly stretched throughout that a concentrated effort to seize the French guns by assault was impossible: “Our regiment…along with the other Highland regiments had for a long time to resist the attack of the whole French army.” Despite this Robertson was deeply respectful of Wellington; especially as the Duke spent most of the day under fire with the 92nd. In one instance the sergeant was ordered to clear a burgher’s garden of French skirmishers who were firing directly at the Allied C-in-C.

128 D’Erlon’s Corps. This incident was a decisive part of the repulse and rout of 15,000 French infantry by the depleted Allied 5th Division (in which all but one of the Highland Regiments served) and the Union Brigade of British . The latter receiving its name due to its composition – 1st Royal Dragoons (English), 2nd Royal North British Dragoons (Scots Greys) and the 6th Inniskilling dragoons (Irish). Sgt. Robertson’s description is vivid yet confused. The massive French column was seen heading for a hedge that provided some cover to the British position. The 92nd were ordered forward to use the hedge for cover, “But when we got to the side of the hedge we found the French were there as soon as we.” By Robertson’s account what happened next was largely spontaneous: We cheered loudly, and called to the Scotch Greys, who were formed up in our rear, ‘Scotland for ever!’ Upon which some person in our regiment called out ‘charge!’ when, all at once, the whole regiment broke through the hedge, and rushed headlong at the French column. The onset was so sudden and unexpected, that it threw them into confusion. At this critical moment the Greys flew like a whirlwind to our assistance… The great French column was utterly shattered; “the Dragoons were lopping off heads at every stroke, while the French were calling for quarter.” The victorious 92nd collected prisoners and returned to the hedge. However, the British Heavy Cavalry, led by the Greys in what can I think be described without too much dramatic license as a frenzy, now launched itself at the main body of the French army. “Every man felt that the honour of our land was at stake, and we remembered that the good name of our great Duke was entrusted to us too; but our main thought was ‘What will they say of us at home?’” Thus Sergeant-Major Dickson of the Greys described the mind-set of his fellow troopers and himself. The Greys, the only Scottish cavalry regiment in the Army, had not served in the Peninsula. However, they had a great reputation based on their service in earlier campaigns in Flanders, their high physical standards (none under 5 ft 11) and their spectacular mounts. Dickson recalled that his motivation in enlisting in the Greys was simply “being a good Scotsman.22” The Greys were one of the last regiments to join with the main body of the Army on the evening of the 16th. Sgt. Daniel Johnston, of the Greys, recorded a short conversation with a wounded sergeant of the 79th Highlanders. The latter lamented the Greys’ absence from the field. He regarded the unfortunate necessity of relying on ‘young and inexperienced Brunswick Hussars’ as having been the cause that led to several British infantry regiments being ridden down on the 16th. The Greys saw no action during the retreat to Mont Saint Jean (Waterloo) the next day. Sgt. Dickson first caught sight of the full French array on the morning of the 18th. He remembered that the “grandest sight” was the Cuirassiers “the sun shining on their steel breastplates.” He also recalled riding past the 92nd that morning and hearing them intoning “Scots wha hae23.”

22 Compare this with Alexander Sommerville’s description of his enlistment in the Greys described in chapter Two. 23 Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled Scots, wham Bruce has aften led Welcome to your gory bed, Or to victory!

129 The French bombardment began in earnest only in the early afternoon. Shortly after this D’Erlons’ Corps began its forward movement. Dickson had a clear view of the 92nd’s advance to the hedge24. He judged that Pack’s Brigade numbered scarcely more than a thousand men moving against a column of 5000 French: “They uttered loud shouts as they ran forward and fired a volley at twenty yards into the French.” At this stage Dickson records that the Brigade commander’s ADC approached Lt. Col. Hamilton Inglis of the Greys with orders to charge. The Colonel shouted “Now then, Scots Greys, charge!” drew and waved his sword and then rode straight at the five foot high hedge, “which he took in grand style.” “A great cheer rose from our ranks” and they were “off like the wind.” Dickson recalls that the Regiment’s second in command, Major Hankin, was wounded crossing the hedge and feeling a ‘strange thrill’ at the infuriating sight. He was surprised at how the regiment managed to clear the hedge and the sunken road beyond with ‘very few accidents.’ Then the troopers began crying out ‘Hurrah, Ninety-Second! Scotland for ever!’ while the 92nd’s pipers played “Johnny Cope, are ye waukin’ yet?” Dickson recollected that a few of the Highlanders standing between the Greys and the French grabbed at the Greys’ saddles and a few managed to mount the stirrups joining in the charge. He also noted that some of the Highlanders were accidentally ridden over by the Regiment. Sgt. Johnston provided a stirring reminiscence of the Charge which diverges from Dickson’s on only a few points. He recalls Lt. Col. Hankin being struck before the Regiment actually went into motion. He states that Col. Inglis did put himself at the head of the Regiment but does not recall his exact words. He describes the troops mindset thusly: “We gave all speed to the noble animals on which we were seated, each anxious to exchange a blow at the impudent rebels who dared to advance upon us.” According to Johnston the 92nd Highlanders had been ordered to form on open column to allow the cavalry to pass through them: …but all entreaty on this hand was in vain, for instead of doing this they were so overjoyed to see us that they pulled off their bonnets and gave us three Scottish cheers and called out ‘Scotland Forever’ and instead of remaining in the position ordered these hardy sons of Scotia mingled themselves among us, some holding our stirrups, others ran like bucks down the hill and in this manner penetrated into the first French line… The Highlanders then collected French prisoners, one of them assuring Johnston: ‘Never mind that chick, I’ll do him.’ Johnston felt it was ‘impossible to convey an adequate idea of the bravery’ exhibited by the 92nd.

24 Dickson also noticed the rout of entire brigade of Belgian troops stationed in front of the 92nd: …suddenly, a great noise of firing and hisses and shouting commenced, and the whole Belgian brigade…came rushing along and across the road in full flight. Our men began to shout and groan at them… This left the Highlanders of Pack’s brigade unsupported. Dickson believed the Belgians were individuals ‘inclined towards Napoleon’s’ cause rather than cowards. Pvt. James Smithies of the 1st Dragoons witnessed the same occurrence: As soon as the (French) skirmishers opened fire on a Belgian-Dutch brigade, the troops fled in the utmost confusion, and as they passed our lines at the top of their speed, our men hissed and hooted at them. Sgt. Robertson, whose battalion would have been exposed to the advancing French corps by this incident, does not mention it in his account.

130 As the cavalry struck the first French column they could no longer see more than ‘five yards ahead for the smoke.’ Thus the French could only be distinguished at close range although individuals could stand out, such as the Fusilier lieutenant whose arm Dickson shattered with his first blow. The Union Brigade’s attack shattered three French columns in succession; Sgt. Johnston describes the process succinctly: ‘here the carnage was dreadful beyond human conception.’ Sgt-Major Dickson mentions the capture of ‘the imperial Eagle of the 45th ‘Invincibles,’ which had led them to victory at Austerlitz and Jena,’ by Sgt. Ewart of the Greys. Dickson killed a French infantryman who attempting to bayonet Ewart. The Union Brigade, after destroying D’Erlon’s troops proceeded to attack the main body of the French army. This was done without orders from the Allied C-in-C and led to the British cavalry suffering near annihilation in their turn. Sgt. Dickson recalled that this indiscipline was not entirely the fault of the over-excited soldiers. The Greys’ Colonel ordered his men against the French Grand Battery shouting “Charge! Charge the guns!” Scarcely sixty of the three hundred troopers who took part in the charge managed to return to the British position. The exhausted survivors were kept in the field but could provide only limited support for the 5th Division during the remainder of the battle. However, in addition to shattering D’Erlon’s corps they had provided their nation with a of reckless, intensely patriotic heroism that still resonates today. The Battle of Waterloo was only decided by the arrival of four corps of Blucher’s army some time on the afternoon of the 18th. The exact moment of their arrival is still a matter of intense dispute. For the purposes of this dissertation, it is merely my intention to look at the attitude of British soldier-writers serving in the ranks to the importance of the Prussian contribution to victory. Accounts written in the immediate aftermath of the Battle are uniformly generous. Pvt. Wheeler became aware of the Prussian presence only after the Allied army began its final advance on the evening of the 18th. A body of cavalryman rode at the 51st who were forming a square to receive them when ‘we found they were Prussians, they passed us to the front and we followed.’ By evening the Prussians had taken over the pursuit allowing Wheeler’s exhausted regiment to rest. Pvt. John Marshall of the 10th Hussars estimates the time of the Prussian arrival at ‘about five in the evening.’ The initial Prussian attacks ‘for a little time put them (the French) in heavy consternation; but even this they recovered and…seemed to suffer but little from our new reinforcement.’ The subsequent attack by the French Imperial Guard was repelled entirely by troops under Wellington’s command. However, Marshall ultimately apportions shares in the victory in open-handed terms acknowledging the importance of the Prussian intervention: …never did I behold such a day’s slaughter as that. Never did British troops try more for victory, and never were they nearer to being beat. But, thanks be to heaven, the work was at last completed, for the Prussians finished what we had begun, pursuing and driving them all night…

Sgt. C.W. of the 3rd/1st Guards attributes the collapse of the French army to the defeat of the Imperial Guard by the British Foot Guards (assisted by riflemen of the King’s German Legion) but does praise the Prussians noting that ‘they fight exceedingly well.’ Pvt. William Pritchard of the 2nd/3rd Guards describes the final Allied advance as being made possible only by the collapse of the French right before the Prussian onslaught;

131 ‘after we halted the Prussians had come up and they followed (the French)’ Sgt. Johnston of the Greys notes that the Prussians had assumed responsibility for the Allied left allowing Wellington to martial British troops for the final advance. It was the latter, however, who won the day: “No sooner where we in line formed than we received orders to make a general advance, which was instantly complied with, giving them as usual three British cheers, which so panic-struck the tyrant’s troops that thousands of them threw away their arms, knapsacks etc. and flew in all directions.” In the years after 1815 the debate over ‘who won’ the Battle of Waterloo became increasingly acrimonious. However, most of the soldier-memorialists accounts remain respectful of the Prussian contribution. Certainly they are never mentioned in the terms used by Pvt. Wheeler in his depiction of the Belgian Dragoons (see above). Around five p.m. on the 18th, Sgt. Robertson of the 92nd Highlanders found himself in command of two companies of his battalion as ‘there was scarcely an officer left in our regiment.’ As a consequence of this desperate circumstance: I now began to reflect on what should be done in case of a retreat becoming inevitable, over a long plain in front of cavalry. I was aware that it would be difficult for me to keep the men together, as they had never retreated before under similar circumstances. In fact, any word of command misunderstood in the smallest degree, would be sure to produce disorder. Fortunately, a subsidiary attack launched against the Highlanders at the time of the advance of the Imperial Guard was beaten off. Shortly after this, ‘…on the enemy’s right I saw that a crossfire had been commenced’ and that presently the ‘extremity of their line’ had been turned. A British staff officer now rode past shouting ‘the day is our own – the Prussians have arrived.’ Robertson had to physically restrain some of his men from dashing at the French: ‘no language can express how the British army felt at this time; their joy was truly ecstatic.’ When the order to advance was finally given the Highlanders ‘rushed upon it (the French position) like a legion of demons’ using ‘nothing but the bayonet.’ The 92nd soon encountered the Prussians. According to Robertson, the Allies advanced harmoniously in tandem: “the one nation cheering on the other, while their bands played their national anthems.” Sgt. Thomas Morris of the 2nd/73rd ‘s account of the Battle of Waterloo focuses on the intensity of the action and the great stress the British army endured throughout. He records that at the height of a French bombardment, the battalion’s sergeant-major, a veteran of the Peninsular War (unlike most of the soldiers of the battalion), ‘turned deadly pale’ and said to the Col. Harris “We had nothing like this in Spain, sir.” However, Morris also notes that the ‘Old French Guard’ was defeated by Wellington’s army alone. The arrival of the Prussians did not save their allies so much as allow them to counter-attack with unparalleled success. Morris gratefully acknowledges that ‘the Prussians took upon themselves the task of pursuing the enemy’ but this is not the equivalent of claiming that they won the battle: A great deal has been said and written, as to the probable result of the battle of the 18th, if the Prussians had not arrived; and, if the opinion of so humble an individual as myself can have any weight, I would say, most decidedly, we could have maintained our ground… Only the arrival of fresh French troops under Grouchy could have rendered Wellington’s position untenable. And it was unlikely that these could have arrived without the

132 Prussians making an appearance as well. Morris does not denigrate the Prussian contribution: “I…contend we could not have been beaten…I feel bound, at the same time, to admit that the battle was decided by the Prussians.” It was ‘their prompt arrival and vigorous pursuit of the enemy’ that turned a drawn battle (or at best a defensive victory) into a rout. Sgt. Edward Cotton of the 7th Hussars was less generous. He spent his later years as a guide for visitors to the Battlefield of Waterloo. In his account of the Battle he aggressively championed the British Army’s role in the battle: …facts are stubborn things, and it is doubtful whether Napoleon could have driven the British from the ground, even if the Prussians had not arrived. The English troops had maintained their position for eight hours against the most experienced army and the ablest general France ever sent into the field, not a British regiment was broken, nor the allied army in panic, nor, at any time, in serious danger of being penetrated. Cotton was particularly displeased with the claims made by Britain’s Prussian allies after the fact. He suggested, not too subtly, that their pretensions to having saved the British might be made in an effort “to cover their defeat at Ligny” and their “unaccountably25” tardy arrival on the 18th. British soldiers’ attitudes to their German allies were unquestionably devoid of the visceral hostility expressed towards the Spanish. However, the soldiers still maintained the superiority of their own nation, expressing it in more positive, less acrimonious terms. Morris’ account of the Battle of Gohrde exemplifies this as it lacks the kind of invidious comparisons that appear in so many descriptions of Peninsular War battles. Costello’s appreciation of the humanity of German officers is a marked contrast to the verbal portraits of the officers of Cuesta’s army (see chapter four above). During the Waterloo campaign British soldier-memorialists articulate their share of invidious comparisons but these were made with the Dutch-Belgians rather than the Prussians. Interestingly it is in German accounts of the Anglo-German alliances that the British are depicted as being unusually belligerent. “The common British soldier is swift, marches easily…When they go against an enemy, they are fresh, optimistic, and do not worry about their life…(they) have only the vices of cursing, swearing, drinking, whoring and stealing, and these more so than almost all other people.26” Such was the assessment of Pvt. Johann Dohla of the Bayreuth Regiment who served beside British soldiers from June 1777 until the surrender at Yorktown; he’d earlier noted that “this nation… considers life of no value.” Capt. Friedrich von Munchausen, writing from a perspective far more exalted that that of Pvt. Dohla criticized and praised the English in his memoirs: The English always believe themselves to be too secure and are certainly by a long way not so careful as the Hessians. Perhaps it is a consequence of the great

25 Edward Cotton. A Voice from Waterloo. (London: 1862) 202-203 26 British officers Dohla added “look down on all other nations” and “are surprisingly proud and arrogant.” While a prisoner after Yorktown Dohla noted the English were defiant towards their captors but ‘many English’ also were willing to trade “their complete uniform, from head to foot, to get rum, brandy and whiskey, and thereafter covered themselves only with their blankets and coats…”

133 bravery that is natural to them, that in their outposts, patrols and other like matters, they are terribly negligent. Even among fellow Protestants in an environment not too different from Britain, British soldiers stood out in their aggressiveness (and their disregard for foreign advice). The Danish campaign of 1807, despite its signal success, is often seen as a blot on England’s escutcheon. The Danes were attacked in a “preventive” war and deprived of their fleet. Sgt. Alexander Gellen of the 92nd Highlanders took part in the short, victorious campaign seeing action at its only battle, Kioge. In a letter written shortly after that encounter he expressed none of the regrets of later commentators. At Kioge the British troops advanced “as if it had been a common field day in England.” The Danes “knowing our resolution turned to the right about directly” and endeavored to escape. Gellen proudly (and excitedly) recorded a statement made by a captured Danish officer: “It was impossible for men to stand before yours…soldiers of a better quality than what he had seen could not stand before us or if they did they might expect nothing but death…I call you nothing but so many Devils.” The Sergeant then concluded his letter by making Britain’s case against the Danes from an historical perspective. Invasion of Denmark was justified because: “of former times when they were in North Britain when they invaded our north country and ravaged and plundered all before them. We was not so bad to them in their country.” Sgt. Gellen knew what he was fighting for.

134 VI. THE JEWEL IN THE CROWN OF THORNS: BRITISH SOLDIERS IN INDIA 1775-1837 A jungle which nearly surrounds the Fortress (of Bhurtpore) affords shelter to the usurper’s troops and it is not uncommon for them to insult our vedettes by approaching unperceived to our lines. Pursuit is rendered vain by the intricacies of the forest and the numerous sources of concealment or escape. If surprised (and ‘tis seldom so) they have disposed of their arms and warlike habilements, when lo they stand deprecating your wrath naked and defenseless. In such a state justice nerves the arm yet mercy wards the blow1. - Anonymous Sgt. of the 11th Light Dragoons, 1825.

Colonial warfare, that most disreputable and frustrating of pursuits, is a ubiquitous phenomenon in the history of the British army. From the first dispatch of regular troops to North America and India at the commencement of the Seven Years’ War until the “winds of change” de-colonization of the 1960’s scarcely a year passed in which British troops were not engaged in some corner of the globe. The virtually limitless opportunities for active service and the necessity for long-service troops for the overseas garrisons combined to give the regiments stationed overseas a notably professional character; as Piers Mackesy phrases it: ‘To find mature battalions of ‘hard- biting’ soldiers one had to visit the overseas garrisons.2” The physical circumstances of the campaigns varied considerably, yet there were factors that allow colonial campaigns to be seen as a unity. The most important of these for our purposes is the nature of the non-European enemy and his perception by the British soldiers who fought him. Whether in India, South Africa or the Americas colonial warfare was distinguished by its irregular character and the difficulty of bringing an enemy to battle. Sir Arthur Wellesley believed the key to success in Indian warfare was in managing to force an engagement upon the enemy no matter what the numerical odds.3 .In my analysis of colonial warfare I will divide the soldiers' commentaries between India, Africa and the Americas in addition to other thematic divisions. Aside from its unconventional character the most notorious distinguishing characteristic of colonial warfare was its consistent brutality. No aspect of 18th century continental European warfare so distinguishes it from colonial warfare (and from Europe’s religious wars of the previous two centuries) as the treatment accorded to prisoners of war. In European warfare there had evolved a strict enforcement of discipline regarding the treatment of military prisoners. Corporal Todd of the 12th Foot was captured while serving as a shortly before the in 1759. During a heated verbal exchange with an Irish officer in the French service Todd was struck across the face. The Irishman was cashiered from the Army for this offence.4 A contemporary French officer recalled, “it was something of a joke in the English and French armies to be taken prisoner…You had supper with Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick (the Anglo-

1 NAM 6807-213 “Memoirs of a Dragoon.” 58 2 Piers Mackesy. The British Victory in Egypt 3 Antony Brett-James ed. Wellington at War. (London:1961) 78-87. Aggressive action against non- European enemies was desirable in and of itself as it “established our superiority in the eyes of our own troops, those of our enemies, and those of the whole country.” Arthur Wellesley to Col. Palmer. 20th July, 1800. John Gurwood ed. Dispatches of F.M. the Duke of Wellington. (Millward: 1972) vol II 65. 4 Reginald Savory. His Britannic Majesty’s Army in Germany during the Seven Years War. (Oxford: 1966) 400-402.

135 Prussian commander-in-chief) and the next day you were back with your regiment.”5 In 1747 Colonel Sir John Ligonier, a Huguenot refugee commanding the British cavalry in the Duke of Cumberland’s army, was captured after leading a charge at the battle of Lauffeldt; a maneuver which was generally recognized to have saved the retreating Allied army. He was introduced to his former sovereign, Louis XV, by Marshal de Saxe as “the man who has thwarted all my combinations.” Instead of being hanged as a renegade (or burned as a heretic; a real possibility in the previous century) Ligonier had his wounds treated and enjoyed several fine dinners in the company of de Saxe and His Most Christian Majesty.6 Despite occasional difficulties with prisoner exchanges in the post 1793 period such niceties were generally maintained between the British and French throughout the “Second Hundred Years’ War.”7 Incidents such as these may be contrasted with the account of Major Johann von Ewald’s interview with the half-Indian commander of a mixed force of Mohawk Indians and Loyalist American Rangers in 1778:

“How did you treat the disaffected subjects and the prisoners?” “Man, woman and child either cut down or carried off with us, the dwellings plundered, devastated and burned…” “But can’t Colonel Butler ever prevent this cruelty?” “No, not in the least. If he dares to do this, and meddles in our customs and laws he would be deserted instantly by these people…” “Don’t the Indians ever give quarter?” “No, seldom, especially when they are far from their homeland. An officer never receives quarter, Should they spare his life during the fighting, he will only be kept for greater torture, in order to make their celebration glorious with it after battle.” A Major Adams fell into our hands, whose life had been spared to save him for The celebration. On this occasion he was bound naked to a tree and flogged with Rods for several hours…Pieces of flesh were cut off him at different places… The celebration lasted three days, during which the Indians danced continually around this poor fellow...Since he was a brave and distinguished soldier, they shouted to him that he should now act like a man at the end of his life.8

As we shall see below9 the European ideal of humane treatment of prisoners was not always achieved, even in ‘civilized’ conflicts. However, in judging the merits of Ewald’s chilling description it should be born in mind that he (an officer of the Hessian Field Jager Corps) is describing the activities of his allies, not attempting to demonize the conduct of an enemy. The great exceptions to the general rule of civility in Western European warfare in the 18th century (or at least the British Army’s experience of it) were, unsurprisingly, campaigns against irregulars; and they both took place in the British Isles. The Jacobite

5 Christopher Duffy. The Military Experience in the Age of Reason. (New York: 1988) 266 6 Rex Whitworth. Field-Marshal Ligonier. (Oxford: 1958) 126 7 Michael Glover. The Velvet Glove. (London: 1982) 181-195. 8 Johann von Ewald. Diary of the American War. (New Haven: 1979) 166-167. 9 See Col. Von Donop’s call for merciless revenge after the Battle of Trenton page 24 below.

136 Rebellion of 1745-46 was conducted with an unrestrained ferocity that matched that of North American or Indian warfare. This deliberate cruelty 10was particularly in evidence on the government’s side as the rebel leadership made considerable efforts to limit excesses by the Highland clansmen from alienating English supporters.11 The Hanoverian government, by way of contrast, sought frankly to extirpate once and for all; and with it the clan system of the Highland tribesmen. The rebels was excoriated as traitors and savages. To this end “They represented the Highlanders as monsters, with claws instead of hands. In a word, they never ceased to circulate, every day, the most extravagant and ridiculous stories in respect to the Highlanders.”12 False documents purportedly describing Jacobite plans to kill all their prisoners were read out to English regiments on the eve of the . English soldiers made few prisoners in the aftermath of this decisive contest or in the relentless pursuit that followed: “…the sanguinary Duke (of Cumberland) whose officers and their detachments – his executioners – inflicted more cruelties on the brave but unfortunate Highlanders than would have been committed by the most ferocious savages of Canada.”13 The author of these lines was Edward Johnstone, a Lowland Jacobite supporter who had to flee Scotland after Culloden. As a traitor Johnstone faced a real possibility of execution if caught. Thirteen years later, as Major the Chevalier Johnstone, an officer in the French army, he was captured by the British at Quebec. Johnstone’s background had no effect on his prisoner of war status on this occasion; he was repatriated back to France shortly after his capture.14 In like manner, all uniformed French soldiers (whatever their background) captured at Culloden itself were treated with a correctness that could not have been surpassed on the continent. The certainly witnessed great brutality towards prisoners15 and the civilian population. However, it was largely suppressed by Militia, and Fencible troops. The role of the regulars was vital, however, notably in the decisive battle of Vinegar Hill and in the capture of the French invaders at Bantry Bay. The worst

10 Of the Jacobites, the Duke of Cumberland wrote "they have no sort of claim to the King's mercy, and I sincerely, trust will meet with none." Cumberland to the Duke of Newcastle, Dec. 30, 1745. Christopher Duffy. The ‘45 (London: 2003) 127. 11 "....by any reckoning the Jacobite army must be reckoned one of the best behaved of its period." ibid. 107. "In the course of the rising the Jacobites enrolled the captured Hanoverian soldiers in their ranks or simply let them go, while the officers were allowed to move freely around designated towns once they had given their word of honour not to escape." ibid. 101. Remarkably, paroled British officers were ordered by the Duke of Cumberland to return to their Regiments with no attempt to arrange formal exchanges. This violation of the rules of war was quite unprecedented and was aimed at denying any hint of legitimacy to Prince Charles Edward. 12 13 Writing in the 1760's Johnstone wished the Jacobites had been more severe "to infuse more terror into the enemy, and prevent us from having to combat the same individuals over and over again." 14 A number of British officers, including General Wolfe, served at both Culloden and Quebec. In addition, many of the Highlanders of the 78th Foot who fought in the British army at Quebec had served with the Jacobites at Culloden. Johnstone is the only individual to have been present on the losing side in both battles. 15 By both sides in this instance. Kevin Whalen writes, “The rebels tried or claimed to try, to distinguish between ‘Orangemen’ and Protestants in general but a purely sectarian motive was evident in many of the killings.” A number of Protestants, “especially…in Wexford” converted to Catholicism in order to save their lives. Kevin Whalen “The Religious Factor in the 1798 Rebellion in County Wexford.” In Rural Ireland 1600-1900. ed by Patrick O’Flanagan. (Cork: 1987) 75-76.

137 brutalities committed in 1798 were rarely the work of the regulars. Unlike the Duke of Cumberland in 1746, the military commanders did what they could to limit excesses. Sir Ralph Abercrombie actually resigned his command to protest the overly severe measures of the Irish government and the local troops. Lord Cornwallis became particularly unpopular among Loyalists due to his efforts on behalf of captured rebels; he became known as “Croppywallis” to the Orangemen.16 Even his praise of the Yeomanry for “not having tarnished” their reputation with “acts of wanton cruelty” towards prisoners captured with General Humbert was generally regarded as an implication that such “acts” had been their standard operating procedure up to this point. Sir John Moore, in his command of Yeomanry forces, was “constantly obliged to reprove violence;” the Yeomen invariably sought “to gratify their revenge and ill on the poor inhabitants.” Thus, in contrast to the ’45, the extra-legal brutality of the 1798 Rebellion is, in a sense, an exception that proves the rule that regular armies of the 18th century sincerely attempted to limit the brutality of war. The difficulty of bringing an enemy to pitched battle and the terrible fate that could befall a captured soldier are among the constant refrains encountered in the diaries and memoirs of British soldiers serving outside of Europe in the late 18th and early 19th centuries. It is in these campaigns above all that the private soldiers expressed a sense of corporate identity; as being part of “a distinct and superior class.”17 This is born out by statistics on the incidence of desertion. This crime was remarkably rare on stations outside of Europe (with the notable exception, as we shall see of North America). An extraordinary instance of this tendency is provided by the experience of the 47th Regiment. This unit was stationed in Bombay in 1810; a posting which proved to be a veritable death-trap. In one year, during which the battalion saw no active service, it lost 359 men dead; all from disease. As may be imagined the 47th’s yearly inspection recorded that “discipline had materially suffered” as a result of the mortality rate and there were frequent courts-martial. However, not one soldier deserted throughout the battalion’s ordeal.18 Unsurprisingly, the narratives reveal a terrible sense of isolation, often coupled with an intense feeling of boredom unrelieved by the normal consolations of Inn and Tavern found in England. As Sergeant Robert Butler of the 2/1st Royal Scots recalled of his Regiment’s stay in Central India from 1807-10: The want of exercise for both body and mind therefore, and the natural consequences of a sultry climate upon the constitution, rendered a soldier’s life in these circumstances truly a burden, for he was unable to walk abroad through the

16 Allan Blackstock. An Ascendency Army. (Dublin: 1998) 179. Of the 405 death sentences reviewed by Cornwallis 273 were commuted to a lesser punishment. Andrew Bryson. Andrew Bryson's Ordeal. ed. by Michael Durey. (Cork: 1998). 109. Most common (and most remarkable to modern eyes as a means for punishing treason) among these lighter sentences was compulsory military service abroad; as we shall see first-hand later in this chapter. 17 Brett-James. Wellington. 122 18 WO 27/96. The inspecting officer was Major-General John Abercromby. Two other battalions, the 30th and 78th, stationed at Trichinopoly and Goa respectively, lost 54 dead from disease and reported 160 men in hospital. Neither battalion lost a man to desertion. By comparison, during the same inspection period, the 45th Regiment, stationed at Nottingham lost 30 deserters and the 41st at Montreal lost 11. Mortality in both these units was, of course, negligible.

138 day because of the intense heat, and, moreover, the regiment was not unfrequently confined to barracks, on account of their misconduct… In this way many of those who might be called the sober and decent part of the regiment, gradually fell from their steadfastness, and became as dissipated as those they had condemned. From the miserable languor produced by idleness and the climate, they now did not bethink themselves of any other refuge than liquor; mustering a fuddle as often as possible; which is by two or three of them clubbing together for a rupee’s worth of arrack; and was is no uncommon thing to hear it said, that it was of no use for them to lay up money for others to spend; and as their comrades were dying so fast, and they did not know how soon it would be their turn, it was the best way to be merry when they had it in their power…

We shall see that in at least one case, ennui, coupled with a stingily administered supply of government grog and an attempt to prevent soldiers “mustering” it, led to an out break of open mutiny. The non-European environment itself was hostile. The relentless heat of central India where a gust of dry wind could kill birds in mid-flight was an experience few Europeans cherished. Private Samuel Plummer, of the 22nd Regiment, described the effects of the Peesah (devil) wind on troops returning to Bengal from the campaign against the Rajah of Berar in 1803: …the men in returning down the country suffered much from the hot winds: five were killed. The hot winds begin to blow about ten o’clock in the forenoon, and continue till five o’clock in the evening for three months, viz. April, May and June. Every precaution was made to preserve the men from being injured by this terrible phenomenon of nature. Many of the natives were either stifled or smothered by this dreadful wind; and there is no possibility of escaping death, but by avoiding the storm.

Twenty-seven years later Sergeant David Haslock of the 41st regiment encountered the effects of dust born by the hot winds. He recorded that Trichinopoly “is dreadful for sore eyes, hundreds of the natives are Blind and we had not been long here before we had a good many men in hospital.” With an astonishing sang froid he records: “some of our men lost both Eyes, some one. I myself lost one, and I thank God that the other (my right eye) was not affected at all.” In a country that Haslock described as “the Grave yard for English soldiers,” this small mercy might almost be cause for rejoicing.19 The prevalence of disease proved to be even more terrible than the climate. Only in North America and South Africa were rates of illness comparable to those in Europe. The fear of Yellow Fever was the British soldier’s constant companion in the West Indies.20 Prospects in India and the Far East were scarcely brighter: “In consequence of

19 In his diary entry for March 20, 1829 Haslock describes the discomforts of service at Bangalore with comparable brevity: “there is plenty of bugs in the cotts, and the Musquitos are very troublesome. It is exceeding hot seldom less than 112 degrees, sometimes 120 in the shade, it makes us very weak and many of our brave men are Dieing, the Hospital is full, we wish we were in a cooler country.” NAM Mss. 20 The highest rate of ‘wastage’ from disease was encountered in West Africa. Regular units were never posted there; rather coastal forts were manned either by native troops, West Indian or the ‘volunteers’ of the Royal African Corps. The latter were recruited almost exclusively from convicts, military and civilian.

139 the heat, and the close confinement of the barracks, the men fell sick, and very soon, there were 300 in the hospital, where the ravages of death were great,” recalled Pvt. Plummer of his Regiment’s first month in India in the Spring of 1803. Sgt. Butler’s battalion was similarly assailed in its first Indian station, Wallahjabad in the Deccan,: As fife-major of the regiment it was part of my duty to warn a fifer for duty for the funeral party always on evening parade, for the following day; and there were twelve days successively that the fifer for the funeral was wanted…the disorder that carried away almost all.. was the bloody flux or dysentery

The battalion was posted to Wallahjabad in December 1807. By May 1808 “we could not muster five hundred effective men in a regiment upwards of a thousand strong.” In response to this calamity the Royal Scots were ordered to the sea port of Sadras; a healthy posting. Unfortunately on the march “three hundred men fell sick… chiefly of brain fevers.”21 Of this experience Butler records that: “The heat was intense with scarcely a breath of air, and if any there was, was as hot as if it had issued from a baker’s oven.” The brain fever victims: Were taken into marquees erected on purpose for them; but this expedient… was of no use to them. All that the surgeon (for we only had one with us) could do for them, was to let blood at the temples, and having filled two large marquees with those who were worst, the rest had to assist one another in their tents the best way they could; but at last the doctor falling ill himself, had recourse to bleed his own temples by the assistance of a looking glass, and lay down among the sick men.

Butler records that after the doctor was stricken a number of patients began to “run about mad” and that some had an “idea that they were not in their own country. One of these runaways being asked where he was going, said, that he was going to Europe; and added, that if he was once there, he would soon be well again.” The Colonel, Henry Conran, was compelled to send a native runner back to Wallahjabad begging for doolies and wagons to carry the afflicted back to the barracks. And there they remained until January 1809 when the acclimatized survivors were ordered to Madras. A few of the soldier-memorialists offered descriptions and rudimentary analyses of the non-European cultures they encountered that sometimes betokened a simple curiosity but were more often of a highly critical or even invidious character. This lack of sympathy is not universal but it is common. The nature of the contacts between the writers and native inhabitants must, of course be born in mind in digesting these opinions; as must the isolating, brutalizing conditions encountered by soldiers even in during times of relative peace. The first regular British troops to serve in India were the 39th Foot who formed the hardcore of Clive's army at Plassy in 1757. British troops won an extraordinary

During the period 1819-36, European soldiers stationed in averaged 483 deaths per thousand. Philip Curtin. Disease and Empire. (Cambridge: 1998) 4-13. 21 Butler spent four years in India before being invalided home in 1811. He calculated that when the regiment arrived in India its strength was 1006. 941 recruits had joined the regiment in the subsequent four years. Yet its strength on his departure was 1102. Thus 845 men had died or been invalided out as unfit for service during a period in which the battalion did not suffer a single casualty from combat.

140 reputation in India regularly winning battles against odds of 5 or 6 to 1 (at Assaye in 1803 Wellesley's army of 7000 attacked and defeated 40,000 Mahrattas).22 Prior to the expedition to Manila in 1762 the Annual Register described the veteran 79th Foot as “by reputation by service and by being long inured to the climate, almost equal to an army.”23 The 560 men of the 79th were the spearhead of an 1800 strong force that captured the capital of Spain's wealthiest Eastern colony. The Spanish garrison at Manila numbered 6000; in addition the Spanish governor could call on several thousand tribal irregulars. Captain William Fletcher, an officer of General William Draper's staff described the 79th simply as “our greatest dependence.”24 This serves as a sort of of Wellington's famous description of the British infantry as “the item upon which victory depends.” From its very inception, British regular troops were the indispensable base upon which British power in India rested. One little known campaign fought by the British in 1809 helps to illuminate the ferocity of warfare in the sub-continent. The British resident and his small bodyguard at Travancore were besieged by the local Rajah. Travancore was a semi-independent state with no British garrison. The nearest troops were stationed at the Port of Cochin, a French colony on the Indian coast occupied by the British in 1804. The garrison here consisted of a single battalion (the 12th Foot, in whose Regimental histories this rather obscure incident invariably figures prominently. The events are otherwise rarely mentioned, even in quite detailed histories of the British rule) whose primary duty consisted in protecting the French citizens from their former subjects. When news from Travancore reached Quilon six companies were dispatched by coastal vessels to relieve the Residency.25 The expedition successfully carried out its mission, however one transport had run ashore before reaching Quilon:

...on board of which were 33 men and the second sergt-major of the 12th Regiment (Sergt. Tillesley); they had escaped the fury of the storm, and anchored in the roads of Aleppi, which was unfortunately taken for those of Quilon. Canoes pushing off from the shore, they landed without hesitation or suspicion, rejoiced to be relieved from their miserable and dangerous confinement. On reaching the bazaar they were informed that the British army was only five miles distant; having deposited the arms in a large room, pointed out as a temporary barracks for the Europeans, they afterwards strolled about the town, and the inhabitants supplying them with arrack free of expense, they all soon became intoxicated, and extended in the street in a complete inanimate state, and were thus secured by the Travancoreans, who first broke their wrists, and then, tightly tying their arms behind them and neck and knees together, plunged them headlong into a deep, unwholesome dungeon. In this shocking condition they remained four days and nights, and, on the fifth morning taken seperately, in a deplorable state of exhaustion, to the Backwater, about three miles distant (surrounded by the exalting populace), where it was many fathoms deep; heavy stones were then attached to the neck of each helpless wretch, who was instantly hurled into the

22 Antony Brett-James (Ed.) Wellington at war. (London: 1961) 23 Nicholas Tracy. Manila Ransomed, (Exeter: 1995) 17. 24 Ibid. 36. 25

141 water amidst the barbarous shouts and music of the remorseless natives! The second sergt-major was the last victim to this unprecedented tragedy;; he repeatedly called for a sword, that he might die like a soldier but all in vain; he was precipitated, in spite of cries and struggles, into the watery grave already shared by his miserable comrades. These particulars were communicated by a cook boy, who had accompanied the detachment and been an eye-witness to the whole inhuman transaction. Aleppi is 30 miles from Quilon26

An incident such as this, in a European context would have been unthinkable. In India it served to reinforce the British soldiers' sense of their corporate identity while fostering an intense antipathy towards Indians. When the British force broke out of Travancore on January 15, 1809 the 12th Regiment behaved with extraordinary resolution:

Our troops were animated with a degree of fury beyond any I have ever known; as they charged they encouraged each other by the expression of 'Remember Aleppi, my boys!' and one of them plunged his bayonet with such force through the body of a Travancorean that it remained firmly fixed in the back-bone, from which in his hurry he could not withdraw it, he therefore unfixed it, leaving the carcase in that state.27

Further evidence of the Travancoreans' notions of the rules of war were discovered after the battle; “Several Travancoreans ...were taken prisoners, and ropes being found in their possession, they were questioned on the subject, when they confessed that the chords were brought for the purpose hanging the British soldiers (“the Dewan, previous to this action, had issued special directions for the destruction of every European”) and that the British officers were to be trampled to death by elephants.” After the defeat of his field army the Dewan commited suicide while “...his brother was hanged, with several of his principal ministers at the spot where the atrocity at Aleppi had taken place.” The little- known Travancore campaign exhibits in sensational fashion the horrors of colonial

26 Edward Bayley. The Diary of Colonel Bayley. . Army and Navy Society. 1894. pgs 153- 154. Captain George Elers, also of the 12th, describes the Aleppi incident somewhat differently: …a detachment was sent to the Rajah of Travancore’s country, where there was some disturbance. Some part of the Regiment proceeded by sea, coasting along the Malabar Coast. A melancholy occurrence took place on this occasion. A boat full of men under command of Sergeant Tildsley (a capital drill, by-the-by, for the manual and platoon), was induced by the representatives of some of the Travancore people to land at a village saying the Regiment was landed and waiting for them two miles up the country. They landed and were surrounded before they could make the smallest resistance; their arms and knapsacks were taken from them, they were tied back to back and thrown into a deep tank, and, of course drowned, to the number of thirty. The Regiment afterwards went to this village, where they took a dreadful revenge, sparing neither young nor old. George Ellers. Memoirs of Captain Elers. Pgs. 162-163. Elers was on a recruiting mission to England and (despite his personal knowledge of Sgt. Tildsley) necessarily speaks second-hand. The only direct vengeance on Aleppi mentioned by Bayley are the executions of the Dewan’s ministers (including the local tax collector, the individual “principally concerned with this atrocious act” – Bayley pg. 190) and a heavy naval bombardment delivered by HMS Piedmontaise on January 18, 1809 “as an intimation that the barbarous murder of the 33 men of the 12th was not forgotten – Bayley pg. 162 27 Bayley – pg. 158

142 warfare and provides one explanation for the intense loyalty (not to mention xenophobia) manifested by British soldiers in India.28 Probably the best known soldier-memorialist to serve in India was John Shipp. Shipp had the unique distinction of achieving two commissions from the ranks during his service in India (his gambling problem forced him to sell his first commission and re- enter the ranks). Shipp's expressions of patriotism often reached lyrical heights while his judgements of Britain's enemies were harsh. He described the Pindaree Mahrattas thusly:

The East India Company tried to pacify them without war, sending proclamations through their villages promising to buy their horses and arms at a fair valuation, and give them land of their own, and a free pardon. But robbery was their way of life. In quiet periods a Pindaree will sleep, and loll about, for about twelve or fifteen hours a day, and spend the rest in sensual pleasure, and such rapine as chance may afford. There is no race on earth more debauched than these people... From their very birth they are brought up to rapine and cruelty. The Pindaree child learns to ride, and rob, almost as soon as he learns to walk....A band will take up quarters in a certain town or neighborhood, and levy every kind of imposition on the wretched inhabitants, even taking their wives and daughters from them if they have a mind to do so. These pests are looked upon by the people as a kind of natural calamity, that nothing can avert...Should they be surprised by British forces they will run rather than fight, and plunder one another on the road if they get half a chance...Their annhilation as a power by the Marquis

28 Colonel Bayley recounts another incident that might have convinced the soldiers of the 12th that India was an essentially hostile environment. On the 12th of June 1799 then Lieutenant Bayley’s company was dispatched from the army besieging Seringapatam to attack a fortress (Ghooty) held by one of Tipu Sultan’s allies. The Killadar of the fort submitted to the British without a struggle. On the march back through territory: surrounded by an impenetrable jungle on all sides…a soldier of the 12th named Hudson Taylor, discovered some animal in a thicket, from whence he was in the act of cutting a switch. It appeared to him so mild and inoffensive that he hissed at it, as we generally do to intimidate a cat, when the ferocious beast suddenly sprang upon him, fixing its claws into his breast. The man, who was of strong, muscular proportions, nothing daunted, clasped the brute around with his arms, hugging him tightly to his body, threw him on his back, struggled with him on the ground, and then perforated his neck with repeated stabs from the knife he held in his hand at the moment of the attack. They rolled over each other several times…another soldier, who was loitering in the vicinity, being attracted by the noise of the scuffle rushed to his assistance, and dispatched the young tiger with his bayonet. Taylor was conveyed to the camp with the whole of the skin torn from his breast, exposing the bare surface of the bone with his arms, hugging him tightly to his body, threw him on his back, struggled with him on the ground, and then perforated his neck with repeated stabs from the knife he held in his hand at the moment of the attack. They rolled over each other several times…another soldier, who was loitering in the vicinity, being attracted by the noise of the scuffle rushed to his assistance, and dispatched the young tiger with his bayonet. Taylor was conveyed to the camp with the whole of the skin torn from his breast, exposing the bare surface of the bone, and his arms bitten through in several places. The surgeon gave faint hopes of his recovery, as few escape from the lacerating claws of a tiger, generally dying of tetanus, or a locked jaw. (Yet) In two months afterwards his wounds were perfectly healed, and he lived many years always distinguished by the significant epithet of Tiger Taylor. Bayley –pgs. 99-100 .Col. Bayley adds that Taylor was fortunate that the tiger was a young one “as the paw of a full-grown royal tiger would annihilate the strongest man that ever existed.”

143 of Hastings, in 1817 and 1818, was the greatest boon ever given to the great country of India.29

Shipp served in the Gurkha War of 1816 had no doubt of the righteousness of Britain's (and the Honourable East India Compan's) cause. However, he expressed a tremendous respect for the Gurkhas' fighting qualities. Although they excelled at “la petite guerre” the Gurkhas were quite as willing to fight “face to face” in pitched battle.30 At the decisive battle of Muckwanpore:

Slowly, the enemy, fighting desperately, were being forced off the hill, some of them flinging themselves on our bayonets in the most frantic manner. As they were compelled to give way some withdrew to the nearby hills, others into the gullies and ravines below, from whence they kept up a destructive fire. We had now taken the hill and fulfilled our orders. Reinforcements were rushed up to our assistance, and two six-pounders which followed them began to spray grape onto the poor brave fellows in the ravines; but though the havoc they suffered was dreadful, they scorned to flee.31

Later Shipp found himself in command of a small detachment of his regiment (the 87th Irish Fusiliers) holding an isolated hill position exposed to the Gurkha army:

I cannot think of a more uncomfortable situation than the one we were in just then, in the midst of this furious storm, surrounded by the dead and the dying, expecting to be attacked at any moment by a cruel and merciless foe. Only a sense of duty can offer much support at such a time. That, and his pride as a soldier, will enable a man with comparative cheerfulness, what he would otherwise revolt from. The enemy was notoriously cunning and the danger of surprise great. All stratagems are justifiable in war, it is true, but it is impossible to do other than pity them for their cruelty. They are taught the art of war from infancy, they fight under the banner of a gloomy superstition. Cruelty is their creed, the murder of their foes their glory. But let us not condemn them too severely they are what they are taught to be.32

Although Shipp admired the Gurkhas’ soldierly courage he still could only look upon their treatment of prisoners with horror. Thus, we see again, the treatment of prisoners by non-European enemy as a unifying factor in soldiers’ narratives of colonial warfare; allowing Shipp to characterize the courageous Gurkhas in similar terms to the despised Pindaree Mahrattas. A further description of Pindarees is provided by Private Samuel Plummer, writing of the aftermath of the Third Mahratta War. He notes that the Pindaree

29 John Shipp. The Path of Glory. (London: 1969) 170. 30 The Marquess of Hastings shared Shipp’s opinion. He wrote of the well-trained Gurkha infantrymen: “Nothing could exceed the regularity and steadiness with which their troops came up and delivered their fire.” – Paul Nelson. Francis Rawdon-Hastings, Marquess of Hastings. (Madison NJ: 2005), 165. 31 Ibid. 124-125 32 Ibid. 127

144 freebooters were a greater danger to Indian peasants than they were to British soldiers and were treated accordingly: These plundering parties do great mischief both to travelers and the neighbourhood…They frequently pillage the villagers, and rob the merchants, who are at any considerable distance in the rear of the army. The principal houses in the villages are surrounded by a high wall, and have generally a small gun for defence. If any of these thieves are caught, they cut off their toes and fingers, and let them go; but if they have committed murder, they beat them to death, and gibbet them with the heels upwards. We saw two of these poor wretches in this situation, and the jackals were jumping up to tear the flesh from their bones.

This is a description of the sort of endemic war that would have been familiar to residents of the Anglo-Scottish border in the 16th century. However, to an Englishman of 1806, even a private soldier, it was startling and helped to create a mental picture of India as a world apart; a world in which the rules of European warfare did not apply. In this context, the existence of memoirs by British soldiers who experienced Indian captivity would clearly be of extraordinary value. No such records exist for the Pindaree or Gurkha Wars. However, Sgt H.H. Bristow, did write a full and harrowing account of his life as a prisoner of Tipu Sultan of Mysore. The Mysorean policy was to attempt the recruitment and conversion to Islam of European prisoners, thus allowing Bristow the unwelcome opportunity to observe Mysorean life for several years. Bristow was a member of the HEIC's Bengal Artillery; Europeans in the Company service.33 He had enlisted in 1771 at the age of fourteen primarily to escape his apprenticeship. Bristow enjoyed his new existence: “I found that a life which is commonly esteemed wretched was not without great comforts, and might even be rendered desirable.” In 1781 reinforcements were sent to the Madras Presidency from Bengal with the goal of repelling the invasion of Malabar by Tipu's father Hyder Ali. Bristow, now a sergeant, was captured while taking part in an expedition against Pondicherry, the French port through which Hyder Ali was receiving arms. Bristow was taken by “looties” Muslim irregulars fighting for Hyder Ali. He frankly expected to be killed but was instead brought to Cuddalore where he was interviewed by Mahomed Beg, an officer (Dubash) in Hyder’s service. The aim was to have Bristow enlist as an artillery officer in the Mysorean army. For four days the carrot was dangled before the prisoner after which time the stick began to be applied. Bristow was chained to another sergeant and then

33 HEIC European troops were better paid than regulars and had more opportunity for advancement. Officers were far more likely to be promoted from the ranks in the Company’s Service. The most famous example of this tendency is that of Major-General Litellus Burrell who joined the 2nd Bengal European Regiment in 1770 as a private. In 1774 he was made sergeant-major of a Sepoy battalion, the 18th Bengal Native Infantry. This was a position of unique responsibility for a European ‘ranker’ and it implied, among other qualifications, a acquired knowledge of Hindi. Burrell became a Lieutenant in the 40th B.N.I. in 1781. He was still a Captain during the campaign against Tipu Sultan in 1798 but then experienced rapid promotion during the Mahratta War becoming a Colonel in 1807. In 1817 he was made a ‘local’ Brigadier- General commanding a Brigade in the Pindari-Mahratta War of 1817-18. His rank was made substantive in 1818. He was promoted to Major General in 1821. Despite the potential for advancement the Company’s recruits were drawn from much the same background as the regular army with, an even greater preponderance of Irish recruits. Company service, after all, implied the certainty of exile rather than the gambler’s chance of extended home service that a recruit in a Line Regiment could hope for.

145 marched to a hill fort (Gingee), where he remained in irons for three weeks. He was then marched to Arcot where he joined a larger group of British prisoners destined for Hyder’s capital, Seringapatam. Bristow was incarcerated for nine months in a Seringapatam prison during which period several officer prisoners died. He became acquainted Sergeant Dempster,of his own regiment, the one English prisoner to accept Hyder’s offer. Dempster was accorded special privileges but was still locked up in the evenings; this according to Bristow because of his inveterate drunkenness rather than fears he might escape. In January 1782 Bristow and 13 other European soldiers were removed from prison. They were forced to drink Majum (opium tincture) and then circumcised. Bristow was then removed to a hill fort where he was given the task of training Chaylah34 battalions while still under supervision. Bristow’s new position did allow relatively greater freedom. However, this was always conditional. When four of the twelve Europeans in the fort at Periapatam escaped the other eight were executed and all the European prisoners found themselves back under confinement. This soon became a pattern of escape and reprisal. Europeans who resisted circumcision generally did not survive their captivity. Generals Baillie and Matthews both died in Mysorean prisons. Bristow himself cooperated in hopes of ultimate release. This did not come; rather he and 80 of his fellow European prisoners were marched from Seringapatam in 1784 just as peace was being negotiated between Britain and Mysore. They were scattered in hill forts throughout the kingdom and there they remained: Our confinement was still continued with its former rigour and circumspection; we were scarcely allowed, at first, to look out of our prison, and for near three years succeeding the peace our slavery suffered little or no relaxation. We were not, in general, allowed to stir, even on the most pressing occasions, without a sentry to accompany us; nor should we at any time during this period have been permitted to wal about freely, if the officers who were trusted with the charge of us, and responsible for our appearance, had not in times indulged us with some liberty, trusting, I suppose, to the impossibility of our getting away.

Bristow attempted to describe the depth of his mortification: “It is difficult for those who have never experienced similar calamities to form any adequate or just conception of our despondence in finding ourselves, when peace was restored, for ever secluded from our country and friends.” In 1787 Bristow was charged with training Chaylah battalions formed of forcibly converted Christians from Mangalore. Although at peace with the British Tipu was still at war with the Mahrattas and the Nizam of Hyderabad. However, Bristow’s relative freedom again proved short-lived as several more British prisoners seized the opportunity to attempt an escape.35 Once more Bristow found himself under close confinement with his food ration cut by one half. A recaptured British prisoner had his nose and ears publicly amputated and was then chained to a bellows to work as a blacksmith’s slave.

34 Penal battalions formed of civil and military prisoners; mostly Hindus who had forcibly undergone the procedure Bristow was subjected to. 35 “The very guards dreaded the charge of us, being punished severely for every one that escaped, and were consequently instigated by fear as much as inclination to treat us harshly.’ Bristow 54.

146 Three years later Mysore and Britain went to War for the third time. The surviving British prisoners were again visited by government ministers in an attempt to win them over whole-heartedly to Tipu’s cause. Rumors abounded that the prisoners were to be killed if the Mysorean army was defeated. Bristow and eleven European prisoners were sent to the fort of Outradoog on the outer edges of Mysorean territory. He was convinced that this was a preliminary to their execution. Thus he and his fellows launched a desperate bid to escape. They were greatly aided in this endeavor by the paucity of guards; this thanks to Tipu having mobilized all of his forces for an invasion of the Gauts. They managed to unlock their leg manacles and to dig a tunnel beneath the wall of their cell in the corner of the hill fort. On November 27, 1790, Bristow and his fellows made their break. The escape itself was swiftly accomplished but Bristow lost his companions on the first night. None of them ever reached British possessions. Bristow himself embarked on veritable anabasis, marching two hundred and sixteen miles until finally reaching a Mahratta hill fort on February 12, 1790. He had spent nine years, nine months and twenty-two days: “partly as prisoner of war, and partly as a captive retained in defiance of faith and the law of nations.”36 Along the way he was preserved by his knowledge of Hindi and the general good-will of the populace. The final stages of his journey were made possible by a supply of food given to him by an aged Hindu lady. However, it must be concluded that Bristow’s experience of Mysorean quarter was scarcely less dreadful than the fears of Pindaree and Gurkha cruelty articulated by John Shipp. One of the most valuable memoirs of a private soldier serving in British India was left not by a British regular but by an Indian native officer who had risen from the rank of sepoy, Subedar Sita Ram Pande. Pande was a Brahmin from Oudh who served from 1814 to 1858. He saw action against the Gurkhas, the Pindarees, the Afghans, the Sikhs and finally the Sepoy mutineers. He was outspokenly loyal to the British but descried the spirit of innovation that arose among British administrators in the 1850’s; ascribing the Mutiny to the Earl of Dalhousie’s reforms rather than to any fundamental hostility to British rule.37 In addition to accounts of his adventures he left a number of fascinating descriptions of his British comrades-in-arms. Pande’s first experience of war occurred during Sir David Ochterlony’s unsuccessful assault on the Gurkha hill fort of Nala Pani in 1814. Here he observed the repeated, dogged attacks launched by the 53rd Foot and was profoundly impressed: “The British regiment had lost nearly two companies but they never lost heart and went into the attack again and again. They were like young fighting cocks.”38 Pande drew some shrewd conclusions from the Gurkha War which he believed held true for the British Army during the entire period of his service: In my opinion the reason why the English are formidable is because they do not worry about defeat. Four times have I seen a European Regiment driven back with

36 Bristow was not the only prisoner to escape at this time. On August 23, 1782 the Mahrattas began to besiege the Mysorean fortress of Chitteldroog. Here they encountered: Mr. Drake, of the , and three private men belonging to his Majesty’s navy, who regained their liberty on this occasion, were of the few that remained of the five hundred prisoners of war, who were delivered over by Monsieur Suffrein (sic) to hyder Ally in August 1782. Alexander Dirom. A Narrative of the Campaign in India. (New Delhi: 1985) 100. 37 Sita Ram Pande. From Sepoy to Subedar. (London: 1970) 38 Ibid. 27

147 terrible slaughter, and yet their fifth attempt was as fierce as their first. It is astonishing that they do not become confused if their leader is killed; another officer will take his place and be obeyed in the same fashion. Now in an , if the general or leader is killed, the whole army falls into confusion and generally takes flight.39

Pande recognized that British success was due to high morale as well as superior organization. He found the British private soldiers to be something of a mystery, however. After the storming of Bhurtpore in 1825 he simply marveled at them asking, “who can stand up to the charge of European soldiers?” At Chillianwallah, during the Second Sikh War he was amazed that wounded British soldiers “would shake their fist at the enemy and call down vengeance on their heads, but would never utter a cry of pain.”40 This was a stark contrast to the behavior of any other men he’d seen. Pande noted how hostile the common British soldiers could be to Indians and that they regarded themselves as a separate “Caste.” Ultimately, however, the Subedar arrived at this explanation for the British soldiers’ prowess:

, give their lives for it, and often lose their lives trying to get it. As for the European soldiers – I hardly know why they love fighting as much as they do, unless it is for grog. They would fight ten battles in succession for one bowl of spirits. Their pay is negligible so it cannot be for that. They also love looting, but I have seen them give a cap full of rupees for one bottle of brandy. I have been told that the English doctors have discovered some kind of essence which is mixed with the soldiers’ grog. Great care has to be taken not to mix too much, since otherwise the men would all kill themselves in battle by their rashness. I know that water has always to be mixed with their spirits, although they do not realize this. Whenever I have seen them discouraged, or fighting half-heartedly, it has always been on occasions when they were deprived of their usual ration spirit…I am sure there must be some kind of elixir of life in the ration rum; I have seen wounded men all but dead, come to life after having some rum given to them…I know that European soldiers worship liquor

Although he doesn’t cite Sita Ram Pande, John Keegan has seriously advanced the idea that the rum ration should be regarded as at least one tangible factor in many of the remarkable British victories of the 18th and 19th centuries.41 One soldier, Pvt. William Nightingale of the 84th Regiment, had no doubt about the significance of grog for the isolated British regulars, in peace-time as in war. Stationed at Bangalore in 1814, he was a witness to the open mutiny of a part of his regiment over the dispersal of its grog ration. Nightingale recalls: The general orders were, that the liquor served out should be drunk at the time, but the other Regiments enjoyed the privilege of taking it away with them, and forming a general canteen, either sold it to others, or drank it themselves, as they

39 Ibid. 37 40 Ibid. 71 41 John Keegan. “Towards a Theory of Combat Motivation.” In Angus Calder ed. A Time to Kill. (London: 1997) 4.

148 felt disposed. Thinking that we had equal liberty to so act, we were discontent that it was not granted…

The 84th Regiment had been posted to Bangalore after receiving a draft of about 600 men from England replacing a number of veterans whose term of enlistment had expired. The newcomers were described by Nightingale as being of the ‘very lowest character.’ Their first taste of service consisted of hard-marching, 200 miles to Trichinolopy, followed by fifteen months garrison duty during which time they were often warned for active service that never came.42 Then the battalion returned to Bangalore where Nightingale resumes his story:

After I had been drinking four or five days, it was my lot to go on duty in the morning, but on going into the barrack yard previously, one of the men informed me that the kettles from which the liquor was served had been overturned by the men. The facts of the case were these, the men had had a private meeting in a cave, to consider what should be done in reference to the change which had been made in the dispensing of the liquor. They came to the determination to surround the Sergeant and overturn the kettles. The next morning the list was called over, after which the liquor was to be served, when each man carried the resolution into effect…

Initially there was no response to the vandalism. However, when it was repeated the next day Col. Nicholl ordered a field day during which he addressed the assembled battalion, demanding “the reason of the soldiers’ unseemly conduct.” Several responded that they merely sought the same privileges granted to other regiments (of hoarding their liquor rations). The Colonel read off the letter of the regulation demanding that grog be imbibed immediately on its issuance. He then gave the order to cut off that day’s allowance. That evening a party of at least 80 men of the Regiment attempted to seize the unit’s store of liquor and distribute it. They were only stopped by the remonstrance of the Quarter-Master and several junior officers. The next day they were allowed to carry their grog ration off. This, in Nightingale’s words “as formerly, led to great drunkenness and disorder.” Several NCO’s were beaten and a drunken attempt to free all prisoners in the guard-room was only thwarted by dire threats from the Second-in-Command. A week later the governor of Mysore, Sir Thomas Hislop and the military commander, Sir Thomas O’Hara of the Madras Presidency arrived at Bangalore. The first step towards court-martial proceedings was the examination of the battered NCO’s. This produced a list of ringleaders, 80 of whom were arrested at morning parade; “I need scarcely observe how I felt, as my companions were taken from the right hand and the left.” The guard-room was quite insufficient to hold such a number and they had to be placed in the central prison. Fifteen soldiers of the 84th were subject to General Court Martial and 28 to Regimental Court Martial. Ten of the latter were pardoned while the

42 British soldiers in Indian cantonments had few demands made of them beyond enduring the climate. Sgt. Robert Butler recorded of his battalion that “They have not unfrequently eight or nine nights in bed” between sentry details. In addition much of the daily grind of cleaning was performed by native servants. Thus: “They had consequently much spare time which they did not know how to get rid of”. Butler, 148- 149.

149 remaining eighteen received penalties of 500 lashes per man. Nine men sent before the General Court Martial were sentenced to transportation to for life; six were to be executed. Of these capital sentences four were shortly afterward commuted to transportation. Only one man, Pvt. John Wilson, was actually executed. The final death sentence’s commutation was issued just as the prisoner was brought before the firing squad: While upon his knees, within a moment of being in the eternal world, the brigade Major came galloping into the triangle, waiving a white handkerchief, which was the well-known signal of reprieve. In haste he announced that the commander had promised to spare the culprit’s like on condition that he was transported for life

This brilliantly, stage-managed event43 was greeted with “delight” and was immediately followed by orders for active service against the Rajah of Karnool. In the subsequent campaign, away from the claustrophobic setting of Bangalore,44 the 84th behaved well; receiving Governor Hislop’s public thanks. Lance-Bombardier Alexander Alexander (not a typo) of the Royal Artillery had a different sort of encounter with Indian life.45 Suffering from a serious flux (a bowel disorder, basically) “the old soldiers of the 19th advised me to take a native wife, who could cook for me, and purchase better food in the Pettah Bazaar than was used in the barrack mess.” Alexander leapt at the suggestion. He received his Colonel’s permission and began to build a hut away from the barracks. This was not a luxurious affair: “my hut…was not so good as the huts of the slaves in the West Indies” (where Alexander had formerly served). Alexander eventually married a Sinhalese woman named Puncheh. It was not a love match: “She imagined every person better off than herself; often pretended to be under necessity to pawn her necklace and other ornaments, and boasted how much she

43 Wellington himself was an advocate of the efficacy of such dramatic reprieves. A letter from the Adjutant-General to Lt. General Sir Henry Clinton reveals this in no uncertain terms in regard to the reprieve of a private in the British occupation army in France (19th October, 1815): “I am…commanded by the Field Marshal to acquaint you that he has been pleased, in consideration of the recommendation of the Court-Martial, the character which the prisoner has hitherto borne, and the good conduct and high character of the regiment to which he belongs , to direct that he shall be pardoned; but the Field Marshal requests that the pardon thus accorded to the prisoner may not be communicated to him until after he shall be led out to execution.” Gurwood (ed.) vol XIV. 596. On another occasion Wellington had two attempted rapists brought before him, a soldier of the 51st Light Infantry and a Brunswicker. The Commander-in-Chief agreed to pardon the British soldier if the latter would “hang the Brunswicker immediately.” This task was immediately carried out and the neophyte hangman reprieved. R.A.J. Tyler. The Bloody Provost. (London: 1980) 168. 44 Sergeant Thomas of the 16th Light Dragoons observed of Indian barrack life in the 1820’s it is a “term of imprisonment-the hot winds, suffocating dust and doors closed …the barrack room being watered from outside by natives to keep them cool. At this time the men know not how to pass away the time unless by drinking or gambling; thus they are led to be drunkards or gamblers before they have been many years in India. James Lunt. The Scarlet Lancer (London:1964) pg. 133 45 Or to be more precise, Sinhalese life. This distinction is significant as Buddhist views regarding inter- marriage are considerably more latitudinarian than those of Hinduism or Islam. Sgt. Butler records instances of soldiers of the Royal Scots “attaching themselves” to Hindu women but these necessarily entailed the “breaking” of caste and were generally made with ‘marginalized’ individuals. One Hindu woman who had sacrificed her status by marrying a European paymaster’s clerk poisoned him to death when he threatened to “put her away.” Butler, 210-211.

150 was reduced since she came to live with me.” Alexander did not respond to these aspersions meekly: “When these sullen fits came on…There was no alternative but to follow the example of the others (husbands British and Sinhalese). I applied the strap of my greatcoat, which never failed to affect a cure, and all went well for a time.” Ultimately, Alexander averred that Puncheh saved his life by giving him a healthy diet. However, a route order for another part of Ceylon led to a long separation. Alexander sent his spouse money for a time but learned, after only a few months, that she had taken up with another soldier. After that he “broke off all correspondence with her.” Alexander’s enlistment expired shortly afterwards. It is to be doubted, however, that Puncheh would ever have accompanied him back to Scotland.46 British regiments were generally confined closely to their barracks during their service in India; their peaceful contacts with the natives were generally restricted to merchants and peddlers who established their stands near European quarters. Thus the soldiers had relatively little opportunity to become acquainted with Indian culture or religion. Most evinced little interest as well.47 An exception to this rule was Pvt. Samuel Plummer, an intensely committed Methodist who wrote extensively of his observations of Indian religious ceremonies. These were not necessarily disparaging as is evidenced by the following respectful description: About a mile from Berhampoor, an idol temple had been lately built, which we went to see. A black priest sat upon a pillar of earth, a few yards from the temple surrounded by fires. His hair hung matted down his face, and he was completely naked except a cloth around his middle. He was sitting with his legs under him; in which posture he was to sit fourteen days and nights: he was not allowed to sleep, and …had nothing to eat or drink, but water and parched peas. This he did to persuade the people that the temple was holy. During this severe penance, he would frequently nod, and starting from his doze, begin to count his beads. A

46 Sergeant George Calladine of the 19th Foot served for five years on Ceylon. While recovering from a fever in 1819 he chose: To keep myself from doing worse, I made up my mind to take a black girl, and I was not long before I got one. All a man had to do was to get the officer of his company’s leave in writing, and he was then allowed to be out of the company’s mess and to sleep out of barracks. (George Calladine. The Diary of Colour- Serjeant George Calladine. London: 1922) 72

Calladine returned to England with his Regiment later that year. He does not mention his house-mate’s name or offer a guess as to her subsequent career. However, he does provide a surprisingly poignant description of the Regiment’s embarkation (after nearly twenty-five years’ service on Ceylon; the 19th were the only British infantry regiment on the island for most of the French Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars): …as we had such a number of black women coming alongside, who were left behind, some with three and four children, and although they were only blacks, still I conceive they felt as keen a sorrow as if they had been white. I suppose the 19th Regiment left more children than any regiment leaving the country before, as it was so long on the island, between twenty-four and twenty-five years. Some of them were grown up, and girls were married, while boys who had been brought up at the Government School at Colombo were filling respectable places as clerks, or otherwise had entered the army. We had a number sent to the school when the regiment came away. (Calladine. 77) 47 If not outright aversion. Sgt. David Haslock described: Some Magnificent Temples called Pagodas, or Swamey Hoses, they are dedicated to Pagan worship, but the Natives will not allow a European to go in any of them unless we will pull our shoes of our feet, this we never condescend to do thinking that to be beneath the British Soldier

151 number of black men were carrying about upon their heads small temples, made of cane, and decorated with tinsel; and thousands of the Indians followed them all night, by torch-light, with drums beating and trumpets sounding. The temples are very beautiful, and present a curious appearance. Several years earlier Plummer had witnessed another act of penance by a devout Hindu: “To-day (Dec. 27, 1804) I saw in the road a man who had his arm raised above his head. He had it in that position for a long time, till it was grown so stiff in this unnatural posture, that he had lost the use of feeling in his arm, so that it stood like a stick above his head.” The 22nd’s Indian cook informed Plummer that the man was a guru who had “disgraced his profession” and was doing penance. The battalion’s Methodists discussed the penitent’s behavior at a subsequent prayer meeting. An Irish convert remarked: Brethren, we see how zealous these poor heathens are, who believe a lie; how devout and holy ought we be, who believe the truth. I was once in this sad state of ignorance and darkness, holding my mouth open for the Popish priest to throw salt water in it; and I prayed to the virgin Mary, and to other departed spirits.48

Thus to Plummer and his fellow soldier-Methodists Indian religion might be seen as no more outlandish than “erroneous” Christian doctrines. Perhaps not coincidentally, Sgt. Robert Butler (who like Plummer was quite devout) reached for a familiar comparison when he attempted to describe Hindu practices: “These Brahmins are allowed to be the most honourable tribe amongst the Hindoos, and are alone appointed to the priesthood, like the Levites among the Jews.”49 In this context we should examine Plummer’s description of Catholic practices on the Isle of Bourbon where he was stationed for eight years, 1811-19. It is in no sense less condemnatory than his depiction of Indian religions. The British had captured Bourbon at the same time as the great assault on Mauritius (in which the 22nd played an important role) in 1810. The 22nd were parceled out across the island on garrison service, Plummer being initially sent to the isolated town of St. Dennis. Here he and two other Methodist brethren converted a “ruinous, filthy” old house into a little chapel for Sunday meetings. On one Sunday he “had the curiosity to look into the French Roman Catholic chapel:’ The priest was burning incense; and with horse-hair fastened to the end of a long stick, which he dipped in holy water, sprinkled the people. I saw in some of the dwelling houses bottles full of this water, tied up at the head of the bed as a security against evil spirits. They paid the priest four shillings and eight pence for each bottle. Fornication in this place is almost general; and that which contributes to it among the poor is, the marriage fees are so exorbitant. It was currently reported, and generally believed that the priest himself was living in a state of fornication, and had had four children with a black woman; so that it was not likely that he would bear his testimony against a vice he was practicing. He only read prayers to his congregation, but never gave them any religious instruction. The of the people were awfully degraded. They were superstitious, ignorant and licentious. It is not known that the gospel was ever preached on this island50

48 49 Butler, 217. 50

152 Plummer did his best to rectify this deficiency: “I took some French children to instruct and in a few months they could read the New Testament. I then catechized them from little books which taught the abominations of the Church of Rome.” Another private of the 22nd “had been very useful in another part of the island” evangelizing. Despite these efforts Roman Catholic worship continued unabated: “I saw here the pomp and procession of the papists on Good Friday, and could not help thinking that the abominations of the Roman Catholic Church are as great as those of the heathen.” Finally in May 1814, to Private Plummer’s great joy, a Methodist missionary, Mr Lebrun, arrived on the Isle of Bourbon to “expose the superstition of the Roman Catholics” One Indian practice that did draw Plummer’s unequivocal censure was suttee, which he saw performed in the aftermath of the battle of Popely in November of 1804: A scene which was novel to the greatest part of us, but shocking to behold now occurred…The wife of a deceased soldier was very desirous to be burnt with the corpse of her late husband, on a funeral pile. The officer sent for the woman, and remonstrated with her, and promised to give her a sum of money if she would give up her intentions; but she scorned the offer. She went to fulfill her purpose with as much apparent pleasure as if she had been going to an entertainment…Before she put her horrid design into execution, some melted butter was poured upon her, and she then walked three times round the pile, and threw herself into the middle of the fire, near the body of her husband.

Plummer concluded that: “Though the sight was shocking to us, it was agreeable to her relations and friends. I could not help reflecting what misery sin had introduced into the earth, in all various forms of human woe.” He then counted his blessings that he as an Englishman had had “an opportunity of being enlightened” and pitied those at home who neglected their own souls and castigated himself for frequently “disobeying the gospel of God.” Although Plummer sympathized with Indians as individuals, he believed their culture and religion ultimately served as a great cautionary lesson teaching Christians (and Englishmen) to cherish their own faith. Although, as he himself says, the best part of Sgt. Robert Butler’s journal provides the reader with scarcely a “hint of the country, the customs and manners of its inhabitants (and) their religion” he does provide a short depiction of India and Indians before describing his voyage home to England. Much of this is devoted to climate and the importance of the monsoon to Central India. He is quite admiring of the irrigation network that makes a dust-storm plagued semi-desert (for nine months of the year anyway) livable at all. When describing Indians themselves Butler is more ambivalent. “The Hindoos are, in general, very sober, and abstain from all animal food…their countenances (are) open and pleasant.” “Hindoo women, in general, treat their husbands with great respect; and very few are ever known to violate the marriage bed.” However, rather less commendably, they are “taught to affect a grave deportment. This initiates them early in arts of dissimulation; so they can caress those whom they hate.” Naturally this latter quality would be one that a soldier in a colonial army might have numerous occasions to encounter. And perhaps wariness is the best word to describe Sgt. Butler’s attitude to Indians; his service amongst them was wholly peaceful, yet by the nature of that service, he lived a life entirely separate from theirs.

153 The lives of British soldiers in colonial garrisons often swayed between claustrophobic boredom, “enlivened” only by drink and the terror of tropical disease, and violent actions waged under the most brutal (and brutalizing) of circumstances. The troops often achieved military successes that beggar the imagination; at the same time the circumstances under which they lived and died fill us with horror. They lived among people for whom they often felt no sympathy whatsoever and this fact, was at least partly responsible for their formidable achievements on the battlefield; they truly were “the items upon which victory depended.” Their reputation for drunkenness and near- criminality was well-earned51, yet under the circumstances in which they lived this recklessness in barracks often transformed into heroism in the field. Two examples from the First Burma War may perhaps provide some insight into the desperate, heroic lives of British soldiers on colonial service. They both concern the same Regiments, the 13th, the 38th, the 41st and the Madras Europeans. The British captured Rangoon on May 11, 1824. There was virtually no resistance to the amphibious landing and the town itself was largely deserted as a result of deliberate policy by the Burmese of denying (most) supplies to the invaders. An anonymous officer of the Madras Europeans recounts the story of the expedition’s first night ashore: It was about the middle of the night, as near as I can recollect, when I was aroused from my sleep by the orderly sergeant of my company, who reported that some of the men were absent, and that others appeared to have been drinking, and he was confident there must be an arrack-shop somewhere in the neighborhood. Of course, I instantly got to my feet, and went in search of the absentees, who were found in the house of a Chinaman not far off, regaling most joyously. On such an occasion the appearance of an officer was sufficient to put the whole party to flight, and every man took to his heels as if the devil was after him, clearing everything that came into their way until they got out of the house.

The officer chased his band of merry malefactors until several fell into a pond after which he returned to impound what was left of the arrack-vendor’s stores. The next day he discovered that his men were not alone in their discovery of spirits. Rather, as the result of a discovery of several caches of liquor by wandering soldiers: The greater part of the European force was intoxicated, and in this state they were rambling about from house-to-house with lighted torches, and as may be fully

51 Following his inspection of the 2nd/1st Royal Scots on Oct. 28, 1813 (during which he noted there had been 172 courts-martial in the previous six months) Major-General F.W. Wetherall wrote a letter to the C- in-C, India, the Earl of Moira proposing measures to mitigate criminality prefacing them with the observation “that a very large proportion of the trials by Court-Martial originates in drunkenness…it is a crime to which European soldiers in India are particularly addicted.” Wetherall recommended the establishment of canteens ‘selling good and wholesome liquors’ in which excessive drinking would not be permitted. In addition the General proposed that European barracks “should be enclosed in a wall at least twelve feet in height, by this I calculate on keeping the European soldiers much in their quarters and from obtaining pernicious spirits which within the limits of most stations is clandestinely sold in large quantities in defiance of every exertion…” In Wetherall’s view British soldiers had to be even more completely segregated if the problems of violence and drunkenness were to be ameliorated. Canteens were established in Indian stations later in the 19th century. NAM Mss. 6112-78

154 anticipated, the town was set on fire and a great portion of it consumed in consequence Efforts by officers (assisted by abstemious sepoys who soon found themselves in the dangerous role of military policemen) to destroy the remaining spirits were too little, too late – “the damage was done.” The anonymous officer unabashedly records: Fortunately for the troops in Rangoon, there was not a watchful enemy near them, as, from the state they were in, few could have offered much resistance, had an attempt been made to retake the town. And yet these same troops were about to embark on one of the most strenuous, costly and, if I may use the term, glorious campaigns ever waged by British soldiers. They would consistently overcome physical conditions their far better equipped successors would find almost unendurable one hundred and twenty years later. Perhaps a look at another incident of the campaign better frames the nature of this paradox; even if it can’t fully explain it. . On December 15, 1824, at Kokeen in South-western Burma, 20,000 Burmese were driven from strongly fortified bamboo stockade by 1300 British soldiers. On this occasion, “success owed much to a bayonet charge, scarcely conforming to the standard image of Western Armies gunning down masses of non-European troops relying on cold steel.”52 Indeed the Burmese themselves seem to have believed that the British troops relied on superior technology. The king’s chief guru actually addressed the Burmese army saying, “These English like to fight at a distance, and with their great guns force themselves upon you; this alone gives them courage.”53 Thus the Burmese garrison at Kokeen was rather surprised when the British commander, Peninsular veteran Sir Archibald Campbell, chose to forego an artillery bombardment and instead launched his grossly outnumbered British infantry into a bayonet attack against the stockade, relying on scaling ladders to enter the un-breached entrenchments. Campbell was frankly trying to establish his army’s moral superiority. The British troops “well knew there was no retreating, and that no choice was left between victory and an honourable grave.”54 They gained the victory. The Burmese commander in this affray was Maha Bundala, who had previously defeated both Siamese and Chinese armies. He was chosen by the King of Burma after the previous commander Prince Tharrawaddy lost Rangoon. Bundala met the disgraced Prince and boasted: “In eight days I will have taken my dinner in the public hall of Rangoon and have returned thanks at the Shwedagon pagoda.” To this the already disillusioned Prince replied: “In a few days I shall hear of you running away, for you have a very rough people to deal with.”55 No finer or more fitting epitaph could be awarded to the common British soldiers of the era.

52 Jeremy Black. European Warfare, 1660-1815. (New Haven: 1994) 201. The specific quote refers to the in 1803 but is at least as applicable to Kokeen. 53 J.J. Snodgrass. The Burmese War. (London: 1833) 313 – Burmese quotes are all taken from post-war testimony and interviews gathered in a Parliamentary enquiry on the conduct of the War. This was entailed by the cost of the campaign which saw the deaths of 4000 British and Indian soldiers from disease; ten times the number of battlefield deaths. 54 Ibid. pgs.124-125

55 George Bruce. The Burma Wars. (London: 1973) pg. 78.

155 VIII. SOLDIERS, SETTLERS, SLAVES AND SAVAGES: BRITISH SOLDIERS IN THE COLONIAL WORLD

On my arrival at the village…I gave an account of what I had seen and done. I explained to them the manner the British and Americans fought. In stead of stealing upon each other, and taking every advantage to kill the enemy and save their own people, as we do (which, with us, is considered good policy in a war chief) they march out, in open daylight, and fight regardless of the number of warriors they may lose! After the battle, they retire to feast and drink wine as if nothing has happened…They all fought like braves, but would not do to lead a war party with us1. , chief of the Sauk Indians (1839) The experiences of British soldiers in colonial campaigns outside of India cannot form a coherent whole in quite the same sense as their experiences in India do. However, many similarities persist. There remains a clear distinction between European and non- European warfare (aptly summarized by Black Hawk above). The concern over treatment of prisoners by non-European peoples is articulated repeatedly2 as are the difficulties of forcing an engagement on an irregular enemy. As we’ll see in the description of the Battle of El Hamet both these commonplace complaints could be dramatically reversed by unexpected circumstances. However, they do appear almost as a litany present in most narratives. Campaigns in North America, particularly those of the War of 1812, provide us with a direct insight into this tendency. The British soldiers identified with their American enemies rather more easily than with their Indian allies. The remarkable desertion rates in Canada3 are a manifestation of this attitude. It is given full expression by the experiences of Lt. Fitzgibbon, Pvt. Byfield, Sgt. Comins and other veterans discussed later in this chapter. However, a lack of sympathy for non-European allies by British soldiers was not restricted to veterans of American campaigns. Egypt provided a background to two British expeditions during the Napoleonic era; in 1801 and 1806-07 respectively. Sergeants Daniel Nicol and David Robertson of the 92nd Highlanders served in Abercrombie’s and Hely-Hutchinson’s army throughout the 1801 campaign. Their view of Britain’s Turkish and allies was jaundiced. After the capture of Fort Rhamanieh on the march to Cairo Sgt. Nicol encountered a grisly spectacle:

The Grand Bashaw sat in state on velvet cushions distributing rewards in money to every Turk who brought a Frenchman’s head, and they were scattered through the fields in search of heads and were not very nice as to how or where they obtained them; it was said that some of our soldiers’ heads were among them. I went to view the horrid spectacle of a pile of heads, and beheld with detestation

1 Donald Jackson (ed.) Black Hawk: An Autobiography. (Urbana, University of Illinois 1955) 80 2 In the American War of Independence and the War of 1812 the British were generally allied with most of the American Indian tribes and were thus spectators to such treatment rather than its victims – Black Hawk again on the aftermath of the (Jan. 22, 1813) – “…before we reached the ground all was over. The British had taken many prisoners and the Indians were killing them.” The Sauk chieftain attempted to stop the killing of American prisoners on this occasion with mixed success. 3 See Chapter 3

156 the exulting manner in which they brought them in and the way they kicked them about – heads of the very men who were a terror to them yesterday4.

The pursuit of the French after the fall of Rhamanieh was witnessed by Robertson: I had here an opportunity of seeing a little of the Turkish mode of warfare, which was rather out of our way of doing business…On this day’s march I witnessed one of the most horrifying sights that had as yet come under my observation. Two French soldiers, who had fallen in the rear, were overtaken by some Turks, who had been hovering about the retreating army like so many vultures. That they might get their penchant for cruelty fully indulged, and to protract the agony of their victims, they had been cutting off their heads by the back of the neck with their sabers and long knives, which they always carry along with them in their belts5.

The Highlanders physically attacked the Turks, inflicting “a sound drubbing,” and, relieving them of their prisoners. These latter, however “were so severely mangled that they did not survive.6” Sgt Robertson encountered a different example of arbitrary vengeance when he witnessed a trial of Arab collaborators with the French: …the Turks were daily bringing in those Arabs who had joined the French army, on whom a court-martial composed of Turks, immediately sat for trial. Every criminal was dragged into court by a rope around his neck. From the preliminaries to the trial, I need hardly say, that the sentence was invariably death, which was carried into effect by hanging the criminals from the nearest tree7.

On these occasions Robertson and his fellows evidently felt no imperative reason to intervene. After the surrender of the French army Sgt. Robertson visited the Great pyramid at Giza and was deeply impressed:

For my own part, not having read much, and never having even heard that there were such colossal structures in the world, I felt a degree of surprise, not unmingled with awe, on beholding the vastness of grandeur of what will ever continue to strike every spectator as the greatest effort of architecture that has yet been reared.8 However, he felt rather less regard for Cairo: “a good many of the men went into the city, but I did not avail myself of the opportunity, Apparently, on the outside, it seemed to be in a rather dilapidated condition.9” Sgt. Nicol did not quite so blindly condemn Egypt. He spent a great deal of time mixing with the Egyptians in Cairo and obtained some knowledge of their poly-ethnic,

4 Daniel Nicol. “Unpublished Diary,” in Mackenzie MacBride (ed.) With Napoleon at Waterloo. (London: 1911) 49-50 5 David Robertson. The Journal of Sergeant D. Robertson (London: 1982) 23 6 Ibid 24 7 Ibid 24-25 8 Ibid 28-29 9 Ibid. 30

157 hierarchical society: “The Turks do little but sit and smoke and drink coffee. The Copts, the ancient Egyptians, and the Arabs do all the servile work. The Mamelukes are gentlemen soldiers commanded by their own officers who rule the country as tyrants under the Turkish governor who resides in Cairo.10” However, his over-all view was, indubitably, a very negative one. He concludes his description of the country by remarking that “a remnant of the plagues of still existed in it.11” Sergeant Andrew Pearson of the 61st Regiment was part of Sir David Baird’s expedition to Egypt, dispatched from India to reinforce Abercrombie in April 1801. This force didn’t see any fighting although it spent a considerable time in occupation and took part in some of the most strenuous marches in the British Army’s history. It required 12 days to arrive at the banks of the Nile after a march across the desert from Port Said: “the moment we came in sight of the river, a scene beggaring description took place. All command was lost; in a moment, as if an electric shock had passed through each of us, officers and men, alike burning with thirst, rushed off to get a draught of water. There was no respect of persons; everyone drank his full, without asking the consent of his comrades.”12 This grueling experience served as a fitting introduction to Pearson’s Egyptian service In fact, the Sergeant’s stint in Egypt was an extended battle against the environment. Lice, scorpions and centipedes were daily companions in the Army’s encampments. Pearson was eventually struck down with a horrific case of Opthamalia, the result of sand particles entering his eye. British surgeons were convinced that Pearson had been blinded for life, along with hundreds of other British soldiers. Ironically it was the intervention of paroled French army doctors who acquired experience with their own troops who saved Pearson’s sight and those of many other British soldiers13. The necessity of this intervention by modern science hardly predisposed Pearson (and his fellow-sufferers) to appreciate the charms of native Egyptian life (of course, it also served to dramatically vindicate 18th century European attitudes to prisoners of war). Sgt. Pearson’s account of his time on garrison duty in Alexandria after his recovery is a thorough-going critique of Egyptian hygienic practices. In one march through Alexandria the 61st find themselves “knee-deep in mud and filth.”14 “Lice and fleas appear to be excellent guardians of Pharoah’s Palace.”15 Pearson actually had his musket sling chewed through by the ubiquitous rats. When, in early summer 1802, the Turkish authorities ordered the Arab quarter to be cleaned out to prevent the spread of bubonic plague Pearson could scarcely contain his elation. Forcing Arabs to clean their

10Nicol. 45-46 11 Ibid. 24.

12 Andrew Pearson. The Soldier Who Walked Away. (Liverpool: 1987) 26-27 13 Sgt. Robertson was less fortunate. He was first struck by the ailment while on guard duty outside Alexandria. It first afflicted only his left eye but soon he “was rendered totally blind for some time, during which I suffered great agony.” While in hospital he was stung by a scorpion “which caused my arm to swell to such a size ,that in a few minutes my coat had to be cut off.” He was evacuated from Egypt, his eyesight never beingentirely recovered. As may be imagined his memories of Egypt were less than elegiac. Robertson. 35. 14 Ibid. 33. 15 Ibid. 36

158 houses at bayonet point was clearly the highlight of his campaign16. That the process was overseen by French doctors did not detract from the experience. Rather the reverse. Sergeant Waters of the 2nd/78th Highlanders took part in the disastrous British expedition to Egypt in 1807 and was captured at the Battle of El Hamet on April 21, 1807. A British force of approximately 720 men,17 drawn up in two squares, was overwhelmed by several thousand Turkish troops on this occasion. Initially assailed by a mass of cavalry, who held them in place, they were then shot down by a combined force of Albanian ‘regular’ infantry and Arab snipers. Sgt Waters recalled of the battle: Now consider for a moment our situation a main body of no more than 300 men surrounded and hemmed in close to the banks of a canal by a force of no less than 1000 cavalry…no sooner was the smaller square generally engaged than we wee dreadfully surprised by a heavy and unremitting fire from the banks of the canal which we considered our only protection…our men were falling from those heights (the canal bank) like grass before a sharp edge18

Soon there remained “no more than about 4 dozen men many of whom were severely wounded.19” Lt. Col Macleod was dead and the only surviving officer, Capt. Colin Mackay, “resolved to make a desperate rush for our main body.” Sgt Water was one of the “few…who succeeded in gaining the square;” he helped to carry in Capt. Mackay.20 Every man in the smaller square who failed to reach the larger was killed, a number of wounded prisoners being beheaded. However, the apparent sanctuary of the larger square proved quite illusory. Again the British were forced to maintain their unwieldy formation by the presence of cavalry and thus could do nothing about Arab jezzailchis.21 “In this doubtful situation we remained for better than an hour & a half during which time our square was much reduced.22” At that point the six-pounder gun captured by the Turks at the beginning of the action was brought to bear on the British formation. According to Waters the surviving British officers were ‘unanimous in their resolution to resist to the last extremity.23’ The Swiss Major Vogelsang, however, ordered the survivors to “cease firing!24” and personally approached the Turks with “a Handkerchief in his hand.” There was now a period of confusion in which some of the British soldiers continued to resist;25

16 Ibid 34 17 Drawn from the 35th and 78th line regiments (under Col. Macleod) and a Swiss émigré battalion under Major Vogelsang.. The force possessed one six-pounder gun which was taken by the Turks in their initial onset; with disastrous results for the British as we shall see. 18 British Library. Add. Mss. 37050 19 Ibid 20 Waters received a commission on his release by the Turks. 21 The jezzail, as the British expedition to Kabul in 1841 discovered , had a low rate of fire but a notably greater range than ‘Brown Bess.’ If Arab-Afghan snipers were allowed to maintain distant firing positions unmolested they could inflict devastating casualties on a tightly formed infantry formation. 22 Waters Ibid 23 Ibid 24 Joseph Anderson. Peninsular Veteran 25 According to the memoirs of Lt. Col. Joseph Anderson, then a junior officer of the 2nd /78th, who was not, however, present at El Hamet, Capt. Mackay responded to Vogelsang’s order by shouting ‘never, never while we have a round left’ and the troops around him fought until completely over-run. Later Ali Pasha supervised Mackay’s recovery and presented him with his own sword as a gift.

159 however, gaps had been made in the square and the Turkish cavalry road through them. Waters recalls: We were seized instantly & individually threatened to quit our arms which many of our men refused not having faith enough to believe that we were to receive quarter, however, in this we were deceived for although we were roughly handled at first & plundered & stripped no sooner had they made good their purpose & had all the prisoners conveyed to the rear…,than they began to use us quite differently & to those who showed no signs of obstinacy they behaved uncommonly lenient…26 Of the 169 men of the 2nd/78th Highlanders present at the battle there were eleven survivors.27 Waters captivity was by no means harsh. The Turkish commander, Ali Pasha, hoped to ease the British out of Egypt and he took a personal interest in the welfare of the prisoners.28 After the battle Waters recalled that: The party I belonged to were marched all the way by land a distance of from 100 to120 miles, which we completed in 4 and a half days. We were very well-used on the march, all the wounded not able to march were furnished with wagons.29 Later the prisoners were “allowed plenty of bread & water & money at the following rate per day, a serjeant 10 piastres, a corporal 8 & a private 5.30” Their captivity continued for eight months during most of which time there was a cease-fire between the British and their Ottoman opponents. The invading force was peacefully evacuated less than a month after the release of the prisoners. Both Andrew Pearson and John Shipp served in South Africa. Pearson took part in the “Sundays River War” of 1799 between the Xosa and the Dutch settlers supported by the British occupation government. In a skirmish to defend the “Dutch boors” Pearson’s company killed 23 Xosa and captured 40. “The poor savages had never seen and probably never before heard of firearms…”31 Pearson showed considerable admiration for the Xosa: “It being the first time any of us had ever seen the Caffres, we were struck by their noble appearance. The much boasted “Black Watch” had not a company of men like them. They ranged in height from six feet six inches to seven feet, with most symmetrical figures. Had they been trained in the art of war, they would have proved a formidable enemy.”32 John Shipp evinced considerably less sympathy while taking part in the Frontier War of 1804. He was charged with defending Boer farmsteads and escorting settlers. In this campaign the British were facing tribesmen amply supplied with firearms who had killed a considerable number of settlers at the war’s outbreak: “At every farmhouse on our line of march we found appalling scenes of murder and desolation. Whole families

26 Waters Ibid 27 Incredibly, Waters, alone of the eleven, was unwounded. 28 This was an extraordinary contrast to the treatment meted out to French prisoners during the campaigns of 1798-1801. Col. David Stewart, who was a Captain in the 2nd/78th at the time, asserts that a live British prisoner was worth seven piastres; there was a smaller bounty for severed heads. David Stewart. Sketches of the Character, Manners and Present State of the Highlanders of Scotland (London: 1822) vol. II. 280. 29 Waters Ibid 30 Ibid 31 Ibid. 19 32 Ibid. 21

160 had been savagely massacred by these wild people, whose devastations it was now our duty to check.33” The surroundings of Shipp’s outpost were scarcely more cheerful: “Beautiful homesteads, still smoking from the fire that had destroyed them lay deserted by their owners, who were either killed or fled to safety; leaving no living creature in sight save perhaps a dog howling over a dead body, a wounded horse or a mutilated ox. The savage Caffre exults in these appalling sights.34” The wide divergence between Shipp’s and Pearson’s views can perhaps be best explained by the intensity of the fighting they respectively encountered. Shipp saw hard and dangerous service while Pearson’s encounter with a pre-gun enemy bordered on the farcical (or, if you prefer, the tragic). The fact that Shipp later fell in love with a Boer girl certainly influenced his judgments of the respective communities as well35. Samuel Plummer’s regiment only spent four months in South Africa before the colony was (temporarily as it transpired) returned to Dutch control. He was struck by the beauty of the country and its temperate climate. The town of Windburg possessed some “beautiful gardens, with large quantities of vines, apple, pear and quince trees.36” The camp at Rounder Bush was “a most delightful situation, with pleasant gardens.37” This was a distinct contrast to his subsequent description of infernal Indian stations. His views on the populace of the colony combined a basic sympathy for low-church Dutch Protestants with a surprisingly nuanced description of their black slaves (although the satirical resonance of the last line is, I fear, unintentional): On the right side of Table Bay there is a small tract of land, called Robin’s Island; at this place convicts were kept who had been tried at . The Dutch, when they send their slaves out to work, only allow them a pound of brown bread for their whole day’s support, so that many of them rob and plunder to satisfy the cravings of hunger; and when they have been caught thieving, they are flogged severely. To the credit of the Dutch they never employ their slaves on the Lord’s Day, nor allow them to gamble in the town.38 The British Army’s experience of warfare in the Americas is a diverse topic. It includes conventional, European style warfare between American and British armies during the American War of Independence and the War of 1812, Indian warfare during the same conflicts, fighting against both the French and against indigenous rebels in the West Indies and the urban warfare (coupled rather incongruously with a campaign against mounted Indians from the Pampas) of the Argentine-Uruguayan campaign of 1806-07, which resembled a European campaign in most particulars. Among the soldiers’ narratives I am studying the West Indian experience is sorely under-represented. Since 45,000 British soldiers perished from disease in the West Indies between 1793 and 1802 alone39, the lack of West Indian experience is perhaps a key element in our authors’

33 34 35 36 37 38 Plummer. 5-6. In contrast, Pvt. Plummer displayed no affection whatsoever for the French slave-owners of the Isle of Bourbon: “The state of the slave population was miserably wretched…If a slave ran away and was taken again, he was severely flogged in the public market-place and an iron hoop put upon his neck full of spikes…In consequences of this cruel treatment the slaves are daily absconding.” Ibid. pg 79. 39

161 longevity. One must first survive in order to recount one’s experiences. However, this dearth of material must be born in mind in any discussion of the common soldier’s experience in the Americas. Although the River Plate campaign provides an unusual number of narratives its over-all significance can hardly be regarded as greater than that of the catastrophic West Indian experience which provides few. Service in North America against an English-speaking enemy presented the British Army with a novel problem. In India military crime was all too common. Famously one battalion (the 13th Light Infantry) recorded more courts martial in its first four months in India (in 1823) that it had in the previous twenty years of service at home and on the continent40. However, its rate of desertion actually fell. British troops rarely deserted from colonial stations no matter how unpopular. In addition to a lack of sympathy (and trust) towards the native population there simply were no venues of escape. This situation was, however, dramatically reversed in North America. Here an encouraging, English-speaking population (and a foreign government who aggressively encouraged desertion from the British ranks; even in peace-time) provided extraordinary opportunities to the potential deserter. Peter Finan, the son of an officer of the 8th Foot, was thirteen years old when he joined his father in Canada in 1812. He was present at the capture of York (Toronto) by the Americans in 1813. In his memoir of the era he described the extraordinary measures taken to prevent desertion: As desertion was very frequent at this time, the Indians were employed to intercept the deserters in the woods, and were allowed a reward for each soldier, dead or alive they brought into town. One morning the barrack yard presented a melancholy and shocking scene. Three or four of the Glengarry Regiment, who had been shot in the woods by the Indians, lay extended on the ground41 Later the body of a man of the 8th was brought in and “was suspended during the day to the upper end of a long post, in a conspicuous situation, at the barracks.42” The head of a deserter from De Watteville’s Regiment was for a time on display in the public square in Kingston, Ontario. Finan records that these examples might “appear very barbarous” but were necessary to prevent the Americans receiving “information the deserters might carry to them.43” He felt that “the necessity of putting a stop to this baneful practice (desertion) will be found to have tolerated every method that could be resorted to for that purpose.”44 The fourteen year old Finan personally witnessed the execution of a British soldier for desertion, “on the morning appointed for the execution, my youthful curiosity still panting for new objects led me to witness the tragical scene…:” The band led the way; the coffin the gloomy cradle of death, borne on men’s shoulders, followed next; and immediately behind it, pinioned, and guarded on either side by soldiers, the unfortunate victim to the offended laws of God, of honour, and of his country. The troops of the garrison, a long train, with measured steps and serious countenances, brought up the rear.

40 41 42 43 44 Finan records that when the Americans captured York “I saw the ‘ bow, by impious, traitorous hands, to the triumphant, ‘star-spangled’ banner of America.” A British deserter actually raised the US flag over the capital of Upper Canada. Finan, 91.

162 In a short time the coffin reached the place of execution, a large common outside of town. Here the troops were formed into three sides of a square; the coffin was placed in the center, and the unfortunate culprit seated upon it, with his back towards the open side of the square. A bandage having been tied over his eyes, a firing party consisting of six men advanced into the centre of the square, and stood a few paces in front of the sufferer. The adjutant then read his sentence aloud, after concluding which he made a few signs to the firing party, the last by a white handkerchief, being the awful signal to launch the fatal bullets at the prisoner. The unhappy man, on receiving their fire, gently fell on his left side, a lifeless corpse45. The use of Indians to hunt down British deserters was not limited to the War of 1812. General Burgoyne’s general orders for the Saratoga campaign warn British stragglers that the ‘Savages’ will have the power to punish offenders ‘instantly, and with the utmost rigour.46’ In this context, it is not surprising that one of the three surviving memoirs written by deserters from the British army concerns the American War of Independence. Private Thomas Sullivan joined the 49th Regiment in Dublin on February 5, 1775. He relates no particulars as to his motivation. However, he expresses no dismay over his swift introduction to the seat of war.47 His Regiment arrived in Boston on June 17 the day of the Battle of Bunker Hill, which Sullivan witnessed from the British lines. Sullivan’s description of this Battle reveals no nascent sympathy for the rebels. Rather the reverse. During the period between the first two British assaults: “Our troops during this interval had nothing to cover ‘em, nor trust to, but the mercy of God, and the unwearied strength and force of their arms. Notwithstanding they faced their Enemy with undauntedness and Valour.48” When the third British assault carried the American fortifications: “the Rebels began to retreat, which were so thick and numerous in the works, that they may justly be compared to a swarm of bees in a bee-hive. Our brave men ran (them) through with their Bayonets, such of them as had not time to run away.49” Summing up the costly victory Sullivan declares: “This Action shewed the superiority of the Kings troops, who, under every disadvantage, attacked and defeated three times their own numbers, strongly posted and covered by breastworks.50” Sullivan took part in the capture of New York and again his journal reveal considerable enthusiasm for the British cause: “I cannot but observe the unwillingness of the Americans to fight…they could not endure to be too close to our army, as we advanced they retreated.” In addition he roundly condemns “a most horrid attempt” made by “some

45 46 Hadden’s Journal and Orderly Book of Burgoyne’s Campaign 47 Under normal circumstances a recruit in a line infantry regiment was expected to receive six months of training. However, in the rapid expansion of the Army in 1775-76 this convention was often neglected. Sullivan himself describes the introduction of the 23rd Fusiliers to active service at the Battle of Long Island: “The 23rd Regiment signalized themselves in this action, and shewed such a good example, that undisciplined Recruits among them, that had not even received their Regimentals, fought with great courage. 48 49 50

163 wretches” to burn and its occupiers: “Many were detected in the Fact, and some killed upon the spot by enraged troops in Garrison51.” In the aftermath of the American victory at Trenton, Sullivan records the murderous frustration vented by Britain’s allies:

Colonel Donops who Commanded the Hessians there, was so exasperated against the Enemy, especially for the aforesaid Corps being taken prisoner by them, that he resolved to be revenged; he therefore went thro the ranks, and declared openly to his men, that any of them who would take a Rebel prisoner would receive 50 stripes; signifying to them that they were to Kill all the Rebels without mercy52

Sullivan merely records Col. von Donop’s remarkable exhortation; he does not condemn it. Ten months later, describing the British victories at Brandywine and Germantown, Sullivan writes:

In these several engagements the successes attending his Majesty’s Army are far better vouchers than any words can express of the good-conduct of the General Officers, and of the Bravery of the other Officers and Soldiers. The Fatigues of a march exceeding one hundred miles, supported with the utmost cheerfulness by all Ranks, without Tents, and with very little Baggage, showed their great Courage and superiority53.

During the winter of 1777-78 Sullivan fell in love with Sarah Stoneman of Bucks County, ; a young woman who Sullivan “knew wished me to be clear of the Army.54” In addition, to this incentive to remain in after Howe’s Army withdrew Sullivan was ‘partly roused’ to desert by an unspecified incident of ‘ill usage’ from his battalion’s officers. He cites several further motives including the fact that the Americans were ‘striving to throw off the Yoke under which my native country – sunk for many years.55’ This is his first mention of Ireland in the journal. His earlier religious/sectarian affiliation is unknown but he did take an oath stating he was a Protestant on entering the Army.56 Sullivan actually articulates the importance of (evidently Protestant) religion as a final motivation to desert:

Having experienced that the Army in general was a Repository of all manner of vice. In a man who inlists in the English service, endeavour to maintain and Practice his duty towards GOD; he will be derided and laughed at, and hated by some, while other load him with reproaches57.

51 52 53 54 55 56 57

164 Whatever the weight of the respective factors motivating Sullivan’s desertion it must be noted that many of them could scarcely have existed in any posting other than America.58 Above all, desertion was rarely a means of attaining bourgeois respectability. Yet this is what Sullivan achieved as he transformed from a lowly private soldier to a commissary in the Quartermaster department of the Continental Army. In contradistinction to Sullivan’s account we have the memoir of Sgt. Roger Lamb. Lamb was a member of the ‘Convention Army’ described in Chapter Three. These were the British troops who surrendered at Saratoga. As described earlier the British prisoners showed a notable spirit of resistance to all blandishments to desert that betokened a pugnacious chauvinism. Sgt. Lamb’s experiences serve as a shining example of this tendency. Lamb remained a prisoner for over a year after Saratoga. He noted that official orders for the British prisoners stated that anyone who absented himself from his (POW) barrack would be considered a deserter. Lamb realized this order was meant “to keep the men together…it being the constant practice of the Americans to induce the captive soldiers to become settlers.59” Unfortunately the order also prevented “many from attempting their escape.” Lamb and ‘numbers like myself60’ feared that if they escaped and were caught by the Americans short of the British lines they would be regarded as deserters by their own Army. Despite this Lamb determined to escape from the Convention Army Camp in to the British lines outside New York City. Lamb was joined in his venture by two other soldiers. One of them had an “understanding of the French and German languages.61” This was a considerable asset as the American soldiers guarding them were German-speakers. Lamb and his comrades were permitted to leave their lines to purchase ‘necessaries’ from an American family. They went to the house, bought provisions and then headed north. The prisoners had been allowed to keep most personal belongings, received a stipend from their captors and in addition were frequently given money by their own officers who were permitted to visit them. Lamb’s journey took several nights but thanks to their cash reserves he and his comrades were regularly afforded sanctuary by American farmers; not only that but the fugitives were able to procure active assistance in the form of guides62. The American who finally led them to the British lines at Kingsbridge, “after as hard a march as any

58 Another aspect of Sullivan’s desertion that highlights the prevalence of desertion among British troops in America is the fact that he did not go off alone – “June 25, 1778 – As the Battalion got under Arms, I put on my Necessaries in my Knapsack, and having a Corporal and twelve with me on picket, who acquainted me of their being inclined to quit the service, which I encouraged, by informing them of my being determined to do the same.” The fourteen of them did not enter the American lines together, however. Sullivan first picked up his wife and proceeded to the American positions accompanied only by her. 59 Roger Lamb. An Original and Authentic Journal of Occurrences during the Late American War. (New York: 1968) 60 61 62 One farmer who refused to actively help did so because of the objections of his wife who described aiding the (still uniformed) fugitives as “running into the jaws of death,” : “Gentlemen, this is a very dangerous piece of work; I know that all my wife has said is true…If I were taken in the act of bringing you into British lines I could expect no mercy.” This ambivalent anti-patriot did manage to procure another guide for Lamb and his companions.

165 poor fellows ever experienced,” received twenty-two Continental dollars and two blankets. Lamb’s arrival at the fort at Kingsbridge took place in broad daylight to avoid a ‘friendly fire’ incident. He and his mates were challenged and replied “We are British soldiers who have made good our escape.63” This led to a general outcry as the fugitives were led with “joy and wonder” to the post’s commanding officer. Lamb was later ‘debriefed’ by the adjutant-general Major John Andre. Andre offered Lamb the option of returning to England but the latter asserted “that I would rather remain, and serve His Majesty in America, than go home to England.64” This was not the final measure of Lamb’s devotion. As his Regiment was still in captivity he transferred to the 23rd; an act of “honorable desertion” such transfers by escapees were termed by the Commander-in-Chief, General Sir Henry Clinton. This led to Lamb’s participation in the Southern campaign. He was present at Guilford Courthouse (“one of the most signal battles ever gained by British valour65”) and was then captured once more at Yorktown. Lamb’s spirit remained unbroken by this latter misfortune and he once again determined on escape. Sgt. Lamb made three escape attempts after Yorktown, the third of which once more led him to New York and safety. He recorded that many of his comrades did not exhibit his own patriotic convictions. While making his way through he encountered one American who was hiring out deserters from Cornwallis’ army: There are a great many of your men in this house who are determined to remain in this country, they have hired themselves out to different gentlemen. You had better join with them: you shall be well-used and in a short time you may become a citizen of America66. Lamb saw no less than forty British soldiers who had taken up the offer. However, the sergeant himself was still “determined to die rather than serve any state hostile to Great Britain: indeed I could not even support the idea of remaining a prisoner among them.” And die he nearly did. On being recaptured from his second escape attempt Lamb was locked in close confinement in a prison cell in Frederick, Maryland. He slept on straw and on several occasions the guards applied firebrands to the bedding when they noticed Lamb was asleep (to add to the effect they would “set up a yell like Indians”). It required letters to the American town commandant and to several British officers to have him returned to the ranks of the military prisoners. Lamb’s final attempt was made from Little York, Pennsylvania in 1782. He was still kept under close watch. However, he managed to obtain freedom to move about the town by means of ‘joining’ another captured Regiment (his old one, the 9th) and applying to the American commander under a different identity. This ruse succeeded and soon Lamb and a party of eight other soldiers were headed for New York67. This escape was ‘funded’ by Capt. Philip of the 23rd who supplied Lamb with cash on hearing of his renewed efforts.

63 64 65 66 67 The party divided in half shortly after reaching the Susquehannock River. Lamb’s party consisted of five men while that of Sgt. Collins (also of the 23rd) consisted of four. Remarkably, both reached New York.

166 Lamb records that his party was guided for much of their journey by a British deserter who “finding himself universally despised by the Americans” considered returning to the Colors in exchange for a pardon. Lamb felt certain such an arrangement could be easily obtained. This unnamed individual was familiar with a number of secret Loyalists (including relatives of the American General Charles Lee) and he greatly facilitated the British soldiers’ flight. Unfortunately the unhappy man’s resolve collapsed as the party neared New Jersey. He abandoned the British escapees fearing that “after all my hardships, if I should succeed, and get into New York, I shall not get my pardon.” Lamb records that his guide was later arrested by the Americans, charged with aiding and abetting British prisoners to escape and hanged. The only incident in any of Lamb’s escape attempts in which he mentions threatening violence to American civilians occurred on the crossing into New Jersey. Here the British soldiers, seeing a large party of American woodcutters behaving suspiciously towards them, seized the ferry boat over the Delaware River demanding of the ‘negro who had charge of her rowing us across with all expedition, on pain of instant death.’ The ‘terrified creature’ performed this task ‘with such celerity’ that the redcoats were well hidden in the South Jersey woods before an alarm could be sounded. On all other occasions Lamb relied on a combination of mercy and avarice on the part of the Americans. During the trek across New Jersey one of Lamb’s companions collapsed and had to be abandoned; this was the multi-lingual soldier who had accompanied Lamb on his first escape and then transferred with him into the 23rd. Lamb describes the incident movingly, as a source of ‘peculiar distress’ but it did not bring his journey to a halt. As they neared the Hudson crossing to Staten Island Lamb and his surviving comrades were fortunate to find a lone house owned by an Irishman. This individual was, like Lamb, a Dubliner; as the sergeant recalls “Here my being a native of Ireland was of inestimable value to the whole party.” The householder, “with true native hospitality brought out provisions to entertain his countryman.” The fugitives’ first effort to cross the Hudson was blocked by American sentries. However, the next night, under the cover of fog, the Irishmen rowed Lamb and his mates out to a British sloop-of-war. Initially they feared this ship might be an American privateer running the blockade but the sight of redcoats standing on the ships deck wiped away such forebodings. Lamb further recalls: Such was the effect of our sufferings that we had almost lost the powers of our limbs and speech: for when I was ordered down to the cabin to Captain Skinner, to give him an account of who we were, I could not articulate a word. Perceiving my situation, he humanely ordered a large glass of rum be given me. This soon brought me to my speech… Capt. Skinner expressed deep sympathy while the soldiers on board and the ship’s company on learning the newcomers “were British soldiers who had escaped” soon provided them with “the best refreshments the vessel could afford.” Sgt. Lamb was introduced to Sir Henry Clinton and received a bounty (as did the other men of his party) for his escape. He also received an arrears of pay that dated back five years. Lamb was given light duty taking charge of new recruits to the 23rd. In the conclusion of his extraordinary memoir Lamb ascribes his survival to God but he also praises his officers and his country. His stated aim in writing was not only to recount his

167 adventures but ‘the unfolding of truth in defense of his country’s honor, and the humanity of her officers,68” against aspersions cast by pro-American writers69. Lamb’s story certainly serves to add color to the descriptions of British prisoners as being imbued with national feeling. Given the inducements offered in America it is perhaps remarkable that so many British soldiers, including even those held as prisoners, remained loyal rather then that a minority chose to desert. The most famous individual to serve in the ranks in the British Army in the 18th century, William Cobbett, served in North America. He would later became the most celebrated radical journalist in England and an inveterate critic of Industrialism. His public career, however, began with his court-martial from the 54th Regiment in 1792. He accused several officers of misappropriating funds and as a result found himself drummed from the service (and exiled from England for several years).70 Most of his active duty as a soldier was spent in the Maritime Provinces of Canada of which he left a brief yet enlightening account. He was, of course, an immeasurably more articulate individual than any of the other soldier-memorialists. However, his experiences are not unrepresentative. He encountered an alien environment which he found generally to be hostile, while forming a close connection with a settler family whose society he found highly congenial. His account is of a period of extended peace and for that reason, more than for the author’s writing style, it does stand apart from most of the other narratives. Cobbett entered the 54th in 1792 and was soon made a corporal and regimental clerk71. The Captain who enlisted him described the Regiment’s station, Nova Scotia, as a “fine, flourishing and plentiful country” blessed with the “beauties and riches” of a “terrestrial paradise.72” After this description the reality of Halifax was something of a disappointment: When I first beheld the barren, not to say hideous, rocks at the entrance of the harbour, I began to fear that the master of the vessel had mistaken his way; for I could perceive nothing of that fertility that my good recruiting captain had dwelt on with so much delight73.

Cobbett discovered that “Nova Scotia and New Brunswick were one great heap of rocks, covered with fir trees, with here and there a little strip of land capable of cultivation, by the sides of the rivers.” The British settlements and the military garrison were entirely dependent on trade with the Unites States for subsistence. The barrenness of the land was, however, but a mild shock compared to the climate: “covered with snow seven months of the year; the danger of death if any man be

68 In describing the death of General Simon Fraser at the Battle of Saratoga (Bemis Heights) Lamb wrote: “It was with great truth said, that, in the service of their country in this campaign, the British officers bled profusely and most honorably.” He defended General Burgoyne’s conduct of the campaign as well: “he possessed the confidence and affection of his army to such an extraordinary degree, that no loss or misfortune could shake the one, or distress or affliction weaken the other.” 69 “Indeed such refutation becomes the more necessary, as the British army still lies under the odium thrown upon it by those virulent party writers, which has never yet, to the Author’s knowledge, been answered by anyone.” 70 See chapter: “Officers and Men” 71 72 73

168 lost in the snow for only ten minutes…I have seen half a dozen men at a time with their noses frost-bitten.74” Frost-bite frequently led to amputation and many of the soldiers and settlers were found “with their hands and feet cut off in order to save their lives.” Cobbett spent eight years in New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, each winter eagerly anticipating the arrival of May “when the sun began to bless our eyes with the sight of grass, to make us cast off our furs, and to resume our dresses as men, instead of those of bears.75” Canada did hold out some positive novelties, notably its egalitarianism. As the son of several generations of tenant farmers Cobbett had held his social superiors to be a breed apart. The Canadian squires (landowners) were, however, a numerous and notably unprepossessing lot: In England, I had never thought of approaching a ‘Squire without a most respectful bow; but, in this new world, though I was but a corporal, I often ordered a ‘Squire to bring me a glass of grog, and even to take care of my knapsack.

Cobbett was betrothed in Canada to the thirteen year old daughter of an Artillery sergeant. The RA detachment was returned home several years before Cobbett’s Regiment departed so the engagement had to be maintained at a distance. In the mean time Cobbett met the daughter of a local “’Squire.” She was the daughter of American Loyalists who had established a small farm on a creek near Federicton, New Brunswick76. Cobbett’s description of this establishment rivals those of his idyllic “Rural Rides:” ”The master and mistress of the house, aged about fifty, were like what an English farmer and his wife were half a century ago…I so much enjoyed its tranquility, the shade of the maple trees, the business of the farm, the sports of the water and of the woods, that I stayed to the last possible minute.” The daughter possessed “that sweetness so characteristic of American girls” coupled with a “glowing health” and liveliness that (almost) proved irresistible. Cobbett “spent all the time I could with my Yankee friends…I talked to them about country affairs, my evident delight in which they took as a compliment to themselves.77” Cobbett claimed that his frequent hosts knew all the details of his engagement and that there were no recriminations on their parting, although “to describe this parting would be too painful even at this distant day, and with this frost of age upon my head.”78 However, he often ruminated on the possibility on having remained in Canada, then: “never would the world have heard of me. On the lonely banks of this branch-covered creek, which contained (she out of the question) everything congenial to my taste and

74 75 76 Apparently on one of those “little strips of land capable of cultivation.” 77 78 That a figure as controversial as Cobbett was never publicly reproached for his behavior on this occasion tends to support his account. He produces a witness, as well: “General Carleton, who was the Governor when I was there, when he, about fifteen years ago, did me the honour, on his return to England, to come and see me, asked, before he went away, to see my wife, of whom he had heard so much before her marriage. So that here was no deception on my part.” William Cobbett. The Autobiography of William Cobbett (London: 1933) 42-43.

169 dear to my heart, I, unapplauded, unfeared, unenvied and uncalumniated, should have lived and died.79” Service in the West Indies can have rarely provoked such nostalgic reveries. Intelligence of a posting to the Caribbean could provoke outright mutiny.80 A battalion posted there might aptly be described as “condemned.” Desertion became rife among home-based regiments warned for West Indian service. Dr. John Bell, a surgeon of the 94th Regiment, who served in Jamaica from 1779-1782 left an extraordinary account of the psychological effects of the West Indies on the common soldier: To-day a private soldier is sentry at the hospital, where he beholds a man struggling in a fever, who yesterday was his companion in the ranks; perhaps he is called upon tomorrow as being among those who are first on duty for a funeral party. The consequence is obvious: he becomes dejected and melancholy: from this state he is roused for a time by the exhilarating effects of his daily allowance of rum: but those effects being soon over, he eagerly endeavours to procure such a quantity as may drive him into a state of insensibility. If this cannot be obtained he relapses into his former state of languor and dejection, his body then being in a state to be acted upon by every cause of disease…He parts with every hope of life81.

There were numerous instances of suicide in Bell’s Regiment. He baldly asserts that: “had the real state of the effectual force for the defence of Jamaica, in the years 1779, 1780 and 1781 been known to our enemies they must have attacked it” and if they had “it would not now be in the possession of Great Britain.82” Of Bell’s own unit: “In less than a year and a half, not one third part of the number remained, of which the regiment was said originally to consist.83” Pvt. James Aytoun of the 30th served on Dominica from 1787-90. His impressionistic memoir is, as we have seen, concerned primarily with the brutal discipline imposed on himself and his comrades by their Major “Tommy” Campbell and his adjutant Captain-Lieutenant Martial84. However, he does record a macabre practice concerning the disposal of bodies of fever victims that provides us with a further instance of the brutalizing nature of West Indian service. “Soldier funerals were conducted sometimes in a most disgraceful manner.85” At the General Hospital was a single coffin, called the “orderly coffin” because its occupants changed almost daily. A dead soldier was carried in the “orderly coffin” to the graveyard by a small party in undress. Here “the

79 80 On Sept. 4, 1795 the 105th and 113th Regiments, stationed in Cork, mutinied on hearing they were being drafted as replacements for regiments already in the West Indies. An eyewitness records that they “marched all thro the town with fix (sic) Bayonets…and went to the Barracks and liberated some prisoners.” When confronted by their officers they accused the latter “of having sold them” as the officers were not liable to be drafted for the West Indies. Order was only restored by the arrival of the 7th Dragoon Guards and Irish Militia units, Ultimately six NCO’s of the two battalions received death sentences (although only one was carried out; the others were reduced to transportation). Morning Chronicle 14 September, 1795. London Times 16 September 1795. 81 82 83 84 85 James Aytoun. Redcoats in the Caribbean. 23-24.

170 son of his mother was tumbled into the grave…and the coffin carried back to the hospital.” The ceremony involved “no priest, parson or minister.” Ultimately a burial party who had “mugged themselves with rum and water” became “vexed” at the manner of disposing of their comrades. Against orders they buried the coffin with its latest occupant. Afterwards soldiers of the 30th offered to bury their comrades by subscription, paying for the coffins themselves. Unfortunately Aytoun gives the impression that this noble effort was not pursued for very long86. Officers as well as men could be spiritually broken by the West Indies.87 Extraordinarily the Adjutant General’s office acknowledged this in its “Regulations” for West Indian service. There is no part of the World where so much, and so regular Attention is required…Perseverence in Regimental Duty is here indispensable…Yet it has been observed, in this consists our first evil-there is an unaccountable Apathy which seems to take Possession of almost every one, to the Subversion of Discipline and Attendance upon Duty. If Officers of all Descriptions will not fortify themselves with the Resolution to persevere in Regular and Daily inspection – the Ruin of the Corps is inevitable88.

The Regulations go on to point out that “Soldiers are the most inconsiderate Beings on the Face of the Earth, and if left to themselves, are in many respects helpless.”89 We shall see by the awful example of Pvt. Andrew Bryson and the 43rd Regiment that the complete demoralization (not to mention physical destruction) wrought by West Indian service on a battalion was not overstated by either Dr. Bell or the Adjutant General’s office. No soldier could have departed less willingly for the Caribbean than Private Andrew Bryson. Bryson was a Presbyterian from Ulster, whose father, a successful farmer, was a leader in both the Volunteer movement of the 1780's and the United Irishmen. Bryson's father was arrested on the eve of the 1798 rebellion and Bryson was elevated by the U.I. organization to his sire's rank; a captain at eighteen. When the rebellion broke out the Ulster rebel apparatus collapsed as most of the Protestant rank and file stayed neutral. Bryson, however, found himself a fugitive. After several months on the run he surrendered himself to the British authorities on Dec. 1, 179890. He was tried and convicted of Treason and Rebellion at a military court-martial

86 87 Writing in 1795 Surgeon Stewart Henderson of the 40th Regiment remarked of his fellow officers: “Few among us but have to regret the loss of a friend or acquaintance…as the West Indies has ever proved unsalutary to the young military, particularly the British, who from habits and manner of living suffer more from emigration to southern climates than any other nation.” .Stewart Henderson. A Letter to the Officers of the Army Under Orders For…The West Indies… (London:1795), 4. 88 89 Of course, in this instance surgeons were quite as helpless as soldiers. Dr Henderson advises: “to prevent the attack of this (Yellow) Fever, all stimulating powers must be carefully avoided, such as violent exercise in the sun; to eat sparingly of animal food, and drink moderately of wine, not exceeding a pint of Madeira a day and no ardent spirits; if possible avoid being exposed to the night air…the great and best preventive will be, temperance and regularity of living.” The agency of the Anopheles Mosquito in the is undreamt of. Terrible to tell, the Adjutant General’s instructions do discuss “Musquetoes” but only as pests: ‘the irritation from their bites…produces sores, which in bad habits of body grow worse.’ It is recommended to employ ‘the juice of the Lime’ to allay itching. 90

171 and sentenced to "military service overseas for life;" this was a punishment he shared with approximately 1500 other Irish prisoners.91 Bryson’s memoir recounts his period of imprisonment and his military service. Unfortunately it addresses neither his experience in the United Irishman nor the circumstances surrounding his successful desertion from the Army. Bryson provides a description of the prisoners’ march south from Ulster to Dublin in February 1799 during which time numerous escape attempts succeeded: To make us the more remarkable, they Cut off all our Hair (or their hair, for mine bid defiance to Scissors from the day I left Newtownards, the smell of which in the fire had like to breed a plague in the Garrison, as the Greatest number that were there, I suppose, never had their hair cut in their life92. Shortly afterwards, Bryson was attested into the King's service93 and on February 26 he and 400 other convicted rebels sailed for Barbados. The "Draft" was formed "into 4 Companies, with 4 Sergeants & 4 Corporals to each Company." The prisoners were not initially mixed with other recruits but were divided up among the companies; making sure to "Separate us as much as possible" to prevent cooperation between prisoners from the same region. Bryson's voyage lasted until April 9. Accompanying the prisoners was a detachment of a Hessian regiment94 destined for West Indian service. Three days before sighting land an unknown fired a shot across the troopship's bow: "Of all the scenes I had yet witnessed the One that presented itself to View at this time was the most allarming, as the Hessian Guard immediately charged bayonets & drove our men all Down (into the hold), Beating them in the most cruel manner with their firelocks.95" The unknown ship turned out to be a British frigate. On their arrival in Barbados the “recruits” were divided between various battalions. According to his recollection Bryson was driven by the hope of escape. A ship's mate who had befriended the Irishman informed him that the best opportunity for a successful desertion attempt might be made at St. Pierre's, Martinique. Bryson, along with nine other Ulstermen (out of a detachment of 34), volunteered to join the 43rd Regiment at that far-flung station96. The voyage by barque marked Bryson's first encounter with Black slaves with whom he felt affinity: Poor miserable Creatures; what a lot is yours in this World, or rather, what will be the fate of your present tormentors in the Next? Surely it will be more tolerable for Sodom & Gomorrah than for the Inhabitants of these Isles, in that Day when

91 418 convicted rebels were “given” over to the Prussian Army. Patrick Power. The Courts-Martial of 1798-99. (Kilkenny: 1997) 34 92 93 This ceremony was carried out peacefully: "the first party that was sent off, on being asked, Refused, Upon which they took them out & Gave them 200 Lashes each and on their Enquiry Gave them this choice: whether to take it or Get the same number over again...Now in the State we were in at the time we were called on, we had reason to expect that they would use us even worse, if that were possible. This consideration made a Large Majority resolve to do it and by their persuasions prevailed on the rest to Comply with their demands." 94 The von Hompesch Regiment Power. 53. 95 96

172 the world & the Inhabitants thereof will be judged by him who is able to make manifest the Secrets of all hearts; and not only for them, but for every person who has been concerned with the cruelest of all Trafficks97.

On his arrival at St. Pierre Bryson witnessed a young French Lady administer a brutal beating with “a small cutting whip” to a “negro girl” who dropped her fan. Bryson could “hear the Shrieks of the Wench as long as we were in Sight of the House.” From that point forward Bryson felt of Martinique that “I would have been well pleased to have Seen the Island and all its inhabitants sunk.98” The 43rd Regiment, without so much as the prospect of active service, was in a state of near dissolution as a result of the epidemic outbreak of Yellow Fever and other endemic diseases. The regiment was divided into detachments and these were, as Bryson would discover to his advantage, poorly monitored. Non-commissioned officers were given authority that was easily abused and drunkenness was rife. And above all hung the specter of Yellow Fever, creating an atmosphere of sheer hopelessness; a sense of which was clearly articulated by Bryson’s own officers99. The Colonel of the 43rd met Bryson's detachment as it arrived at the barracks in St. Pierre. He enquired of each of the men as to their date of enlistment. Bryson, alone among the detachment, responded that he hadn’t enlisted at all “for had it been left to myself I would as Soon be hanged as consented to have worn a red coat.” The bemused Colonel responded that 34 rogues had been brought to his regiment “& but one honest man100.” Bryson himself was laid low by sunstroke on his first day of drill. His account of what follows is the only detailed description of a stay in a West Indian Regimental Hospital; that final destination of thousands of British soldiers. He was removed to the regimental hospital from his barracks. In the hospital he was initially denied a bed by the orderly sergeant. When the regimental surgeon appeared he enquired of the Sergeant as to the meaning of his conduct. The latter replied that “He (Bryson) is one of the United Irishmen & I did not know whether you would allow him to be put in a room with the other patients.” The Doctor declared “that one man is as Good as another the moment they enter the Gates of the Hospital,” and had Bryson put to bed. Although Bryson would certainly receive harsh treatment over the next months, this was the only instance of anti- Irish (or even anti-rebel) that he encountered in the manpower-starved Regiment.101 Bryson’s initial treatment for sunstroke lasted four days and entailed bleeding, emetics and a series of “blisters” applied to his head and back; when one of the latter was left on Bryson for several hours longer than prescribed Dr. Salmon had both the hospital’s orderlies removed to the Guard House. After this ordeal Bryson was allowed wine, toast and beef tea as he slowly recovered. Most of his fellow patients were not so fortunate: “In a few days I was able to walk about & upon enquiring after the Men whom

97 98 99 100 101 However Bryson does remark that in the hospital “nothing frighted me so much as the fear of the pain in my head turning into a Delerium, in which Case I knew I would likely say things that might be attended with Serious effects not only to myself but to my companions.”

173 I took notice of when I went in,102 I found there were but 2 of them alive (& before I left both these died).” The Doctor released Bryson on condition that the latter be allowed to convalesce in the barracks for a “fortnight.” However At This time the Regiment was So Sickly that the men who were well had to be on duty 2 nights & in bed one. In consequence of this, I was but 4 days out when I was ordered to mount Picquet on the Governor. It was of no consequence that I told him (his Captain)what the Doctor Said: there was no other person & the Picquet must be there. We went on at Sun Down & left it at daylight… in a little while it began to rain & Thunder in the most Tremendous manner…I was oblidged to stand there till Morning Wet unto the Skin.

Two nights on picquet103 led to two more weeks in Hospital. This was soon followed by a wood-gathering detail that led to a full relapse.104 In the subsequent six weeks Bryson was made a hospital orderly and witnessed a series of confrontations between the Surgeon and his assistant, Dr. Cathcart. These centered around the latter’s inveterate drunkenness. When the surgeon asked one of the patients, Private Wilson, as to his assistant’s state the latter replied that Cathcart “was as Drunk as ever I was in my life, & you know that it is not Long Since I was flogged for being drunk on parade.”105 Dr. Salmon attempted to have Bryson posted to the (relatively healthy) detachment at St. Matthew’s Key but was opposed in this by the Regimental Adjutant who “Said I would be the next (to desert) & he did not blame me for it but he was resolved I Should not Go from under his care.” Fortunately Bryson’s sergeant was more amenable106 and on the latter’s recommendation Bryson was dispatched to the port. Bryson was accompanied to his new post by another United Irishman named Sibbet. They formulated a plan “To make friends with Some Sailors” in hopes of finding a means to escape. This hardly appeared to be beyond their power as they were soon put under the charge of a lone Royal Artillery Gunner who was solely responsible for a seven gun

102 “The Room I was put into had 24 beds, 23 of which were taken up by as many patients…I took particular notice of all the people at the end of the room I was to lye In.” 103 Bryson encountered another instance of humanity from an officer on this occasion. On seeing him shiver while on guard a Captain of another company asked him what was the matter. On being told he informed Bryson that “If there is anything that you think will be of any service to you name it & if it is to be had in town I will order it for you.” Bryson turned down the offer fearing to embarrass his own captain. 104 Bryson records that Dr. Salmon ordered him off the wood detail and threatened him with arrest if he attempted any further manual labor. 105 Bryson witnessed a particularly macabre military flogging shortly before being re-admitted to the hospital: The next morning there were to be 4 men punished & I was called on, along with the rest, to See it. The punished (were) inside of the room to prevent the Negroes from Seeing them. When they began, they placed us so near the Triangles that every lash they Gave, as soon as the Skin was cut, the blood flew in my face. Shocked with this, & overcome with the fatigue of Standing So long, I fainted before they had half Done. The Captain followed me down Stairs & ordered me a Glass of Wine and as Soon as I was recovered. ‘You See’, Said he, ‘what the effects of Misconduct in the Army (are) and as the punishment of another has affected you So much, you need to take care lest you Subject yourself to Suffer.’ The need to administer punishment indoors is the only hint of slave unrest alluded to by Bryson in his entire narrative. 106 “& on treating him to a bottle of Rum he Recommended me to Go there & Said as I never drank any, there would be no danger of my neglecting the Duty of the place.”

174 battery of 32 pounders; like Bryson’s sergeant this worthy was inordinately fond of rum punch. On the Irishmen’s second day at the Fort, and with their superior already non compos mentis, an American ship tried to slip out of the harbor without paying customs duties. The ship was fired upon by a British fort on the opposite shore. Bryson and Sibbert fired four rounds at the American forcing her to come ashore near their position. Freedom now seemed at hand. Unfortunately the vessel’s captain rejected Bryson’s offer107 to have him forego customs in return for passage to Boston. A subsequent attempt to sneak passage aboard a Liverpool-bound merchant vessel failed as well. Thus after a month at Branch Key Bryson remained a redcoat. At this point he was struck down by what he terms a recurrent fever, probably malaria. He desperately wished to avoid the hospital; however, on the occasion of Dr. Salmon’s visiting the detachment, he fainted dead away and was ordered back. He fell into a delirium on his first evening in hospital and “for 10 days I scarce knew what was doing about me.” After his fever finally broke he was sent to convalesce in barracks at the port of Frontier. Sibbert made his escape while Bryson was in hospital. Remarkably, “the Adjutant (at Frontier)received me with as much kindness as Ever & Even Said that he believed I was ignorant of Sibbet’s Going off. He gave me Liberty to walk about as much as I pleased in the Mornings & Evenings, & to this I believe I was in Some measure Indebted for my recovery108.

It is impossible to say whether the Adjutant was simply a humane individual or was rather driven to utter desperation by his need for men. Whatever the reason Bryson was determined to make the most of his liberty: “I laboured hard to keep both my person & arms as Clean as possible, which So far Gained me the Goodwill of the officers that I could Get a pass to Town when no other person who had to attend Drill Dared to ask for it.109” He hoped “that Some procurable opportunity would offer” and he might yet escape. At this point Bryson’s narrative breaks off, leaving us to guess as to “the Principal occurances that happened to me after this.” However, since the narrative was written in New York, we can assume Bryson finally seized his “opportunity.” 110 The West Indies continued to be a deadly station throughout our period of study. British casualty levels fell only because ever fewer British troops were committed to the islands. Recourse was made to foreign units composed largely of prisoners of war and to West Indian Regiments composed of slaves promised manumission in return for service. Captain Anderson served in the York Chasseurs, a foreign regiment dispatched to Barbados in 1814:

107 “We proposed to him to take us off, which would prevent him from having his Vessel to clear account…but he would not consent. 108 109 110 The 43rd Regiment returned to England in 1802. It was well under half-strength. It received 160 volunteers from Fencible regiments soon after disembarking. In its yearly inspection report ( – April 8, 1802) Gen Hew Dalrymple opined “There are many low and some very old and ill-looking men in the original body but the Regiment is materially benefited by volunteers received from the Fencible Regiments.” He discharged eleven men as unfit for further service. WO 27/85. The 43rd went on to become part of Sir John Moore’s Experimental Light Infantry Brigade at Shorncliffe in 1803 and was part of the elite Light Division in the Peninsular War.

175 The garrison was then very healthy, and we began to think ourselves in good quarters and the climate not quite as bad as all the world represented it to be. For weeks and weeks we got on very well, and without much sickness. At last a gradual change took place, and we began to lose men daily, and soon the numbers increased, the prevailing complaint being yellow fever, which also attacked the other regiments in the garrison. We were the last comers, and lost considerably more than all the other regiments111. Sgt. Anthony Hamilton, originally of the 43rd, was transferred into the Chasseurs in 1815 and joined them in Barbados. The next year his company was detached to Fort Antonio in Jamaica. He recalled that his company, “were much afflicted with disease, particularly the vomit and yellow fever.” Sixty-two of the men died within a year and Hamilton was confined to hospital for six months112. The only answer to the problem of West Indian service was to employ troops who had natural immunities or who were regarded as readily expendable; such as the York Chasseurs. British regiments were still dispatched to the West Indies in the 1820’s. The experiences of Sgt. David Brown of the 21st suggest that peace had not made service in the islands one whit less deadly. The Regiment arrived in Barbados in April 1819. Initially the men were ‘very healthy considering the excessive heat.” However, when two companies were detached to Tobago in September of the next year “a severe fever broke out amongst them and under the effects of which a very great number died in a very few hours’ sickness.113” Seven companies of the battalion were moved to Demerara in August of 1821. The full effects of this redeployment, which were nothing less than the decimation of the 21st, should be recorded in full: Lieut. Colonel North was taken very ill and died on the 23rd of August. He was deeply lamented by every officer and soldier of the Regiment. I am very sorry to say that Lieut. Montgomerie put an end to his life in a state of insanity. Asst. Surgeon Boyd died at Bebbice with a raging fever. Adjutant Kean died and was very much regretted by the Regiment at large. Dr. Curry died likewise of a severe fever…Sergeant Major Young was appointed 2nd Lieut. and Adjutant. It is with extreme reluctance that I say that my health was very bad for nearly two years in Demerara. I was six times in hospital repeatedly with fever114. Brown was reluctant to mention his own illness apparently out of a sense of personal discretion. He did not wish to criticize those senior officers responsible for sending the 21st to Demerara; he merely supplies us with a witness to the results of their decision. The Argentine campaigns of 1806-07 were some of the most unusual fought by British army during this period. They featured irregular warfare and conventional fighting of the European type. The Spanish settlers, after initial unsuccessful attempts to fight the British invaders in the open field, ultimately engaged in siege warfare, defending Montevideo (where Lawrence saw action) and Buenos Aires as fortresses. This strategy succeeded in defeating two British invasion attempts.115

111 112 Anthony Hamilton. Hamilton’s Campaign with Moore and Wellington. 158 113 114 115 That of General Beresford in 1806 , and a far larger army under General Whitelock in 1807.

176 Sergeant George Bee of the 5th Foot served in the second campaign. The army’s initial amphibious landing was unopposed. Bee’s first action involved fighting Spanish irregulars while crossing the River Plate: “On the 3 of Jully we ingage the Enimeney and Drave them into the Town that night & we had a River to cross & ide was oblight (obliged) to go up to the Nek in Water & some of the men was left behind & the Spanus cut their ears off & their hands by the Rist & left them in their Misery.” Later he took part in the storming of Buenos Aires: “The Pepill was upon thar House firing at us as we went down the street. The Company as I belong ad very bad luck for we lost 23 men the first fier Joseph Horton’s wife’s brother was wounded & he was my Right and man. Jon Wicken was my Right and man. He was killed about 12 o’clock in the morning.”116 Street-fighting in Buenos Aires was exceptionally brutal: “We taken no prisoners. Kill all before us. The dead bodies lies in the streets as thick as the God lives. Buenosayeirs was a strong place the houses was strong bilt for we could not break them was ablight (obliged) to fier in the doors two or three times before tha fli hopon (fly open?) and a number of Women & children was Kill that day…117 Bee’s battalion was fortunate in being able to fight its way out of the city; over 2500 British troops were cut off and forced to surrender on this occasion118. Sgt. Stephen Morley of the 5th took part in the worst of the street-fighting as part of Major King’s detachment: “Our gallant little band went from street to street, where our business necessarily being close quarters, for to fire much was a waste of time and powder, everyone who opposed us was bayoneted.119” After the attack’s impetus had slowed a force of Spanish cavalry “gently trotted” towards the British position. There was some doubt as to their intentions and they were allowed to come close enough to parley. Each side demanded the other’s surrender. A melee ensued during which the Spanish “resistance was feeble and short, and on their trying a bit of our humour, those who were able turned around, bowed their bodies close upon their horses and in the quintessence of politeness took their leave and galloped off.120” This display of chivalry was noted approvingly by Morley. He also noted that a number of wounded men were unintentionally abandoned along with a small hospital guard that night. Their comrades “shuddered at the idea of leaving the wounded” but the men were actually well treated after their surrender. They were all exchanged prior to the British evacuation. Private William Lawrence of the 40th Regiment served in Uruguay and Argentina. There he experienced two distinctly different modes of combat. The Indians, whom the British hoped might prove sympathetic to the invasion but who most emphatically were not, fought in irregular fashion. Engagements against mounted Indians were a novel experience for the British Army. They were more reminiscent of campaigns waged by the United States army against Indians of the Far West than they were of the British campaigns in the eastern United States and Canada.

116 National Army Museum – Mss. 7712 - 67 117 Ibid. Much of the street fighting was generally carried out by small detachments whose experiences differed. Major Henry King of the 5th records; “many prisoners were brought in to me whom I placed on the top of the house (in the Plaza de Toros).” National Army Museum. Mss. 6403/14. 118 119 120

177 Lawrence had particularly harrowing experiences fighting against Indians although he describes them in his usual jocular tone. On the advance to Buenos Aires a corporal and private were killed while investigating Indian hut: “this was a great glory to the natives; they stuck the corporal’s head on a pole and carried it in front of their little band on the march.121” Later: “As we marched along on our next day’s journey, about 200 Indians kept following us, the foremost of them wearing our dead corporal’s jacket, and carrying his head – I do not know for what reason, but perhaps they thought a good deal more of a dead man’s head than we should feel disposed to do.” Later still the force of 200 mounted Indians encircled a detachment of 20 British infantrymen, including Lawrence. Their subsequent attack was delivered in lackluster fashion and easily repulsed: “they not liking the smell and much less the taste of our .122” The Indian leader who rode forth carrying the British corporal’s head was wounded and captured. Remarkably, as part of the effort to detach the Indians from the Spanish, this chieftain was not killed. He simply was brought to another Indian village to be cared for.123 Lawrence, and the 40th as a unit, were fortunate in that they remained in the countryside guarding the British Lines of Communication throughout the campaign. Thus they missed the final debacle at Buenos Aires. Private Thomas Howell of the 71st Highland Light Infantry was not so lucky. He served in the first invasion force under Beresford and thus spent nearly a year as a prisoner. However, his first experiences of Argentina were pleasant enough as he was billeted in the ranch-house of the Paredes family and fell in love with their daughter Maria. Howell’s affection for the European-born Maria did not extend to Argentina’s native inhabitants: The men are short of stature, stout made, and have large joints. They are brave but indolent to excess…They fear not pain. I have seen them with hurts ghastly to look at, yet they never seem to mind them. As for their idleness, I have seen them lie stretched for a whole day, gazing upon the river, and their wives bring them victuals; and if they were not pleased with the quantity, they would beat them furiously. This is the only exertion they make readily – venting their fury on their wives124.

Howell’s campaign ended with his capture at Buenos Aires. His storming party was holding out inside a church when they received the order to surrender. While there one of Howell’s companions seized the opportunity to enrich himself. Subsequently: There were about one hundred of us, who had been taken in the church, marched out of prison to be shot, unless we produced a gold crucifix of great value, that was missing. We stood in a large circle of Spaniards and Indians. Their leveled pieces and savage looks gave us little hope unless the crucifix was produced. It was found on the ground, on the spot where we stood; but it was not known who had taken it. The troops retired and we were allowed to go back to the prison without further molestation125.

121 William Lawrence. The Autobiography of Sergeant William Lawrence. 37 122 Ibid. 38 123 Ibid. 39 124 Thomas Howell. A Soldier of the Seventy-First (Warren: 1976) 5 125 Ibid. 10.

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Aside from this incident, the treatment of the British prisoners by the Spanish colonists was most humane.126 In fact local church officials (perhaps prompted by a colonial government on the look-out for settlers) attempted to convince Catholics in the British ranks to remain in Argentina after their fellow prisoners were repatriated; an interesting parallel with the efforts of the American authorities to convince British Prisoners to desert during the War of Independence.127 Howell’s closest friend Donald MacDonald nearly accepted this offer. Howell countered priestly blandishments with a spirited rendition of “Lochabar No More” which caused MacDonald to break down. On seeing that his efforts were in vain the Argentine priest remarked: “it is natural. I once loved Spain above all other Parts of the world.128” Howell himself pined after Maria de Paredes but ultimately he preferred her as a memory for he returned to England with the other former prisoners. Private Shadrach Byfield of the 41st Foot served in Canada throughout the War of 1812; most of his service taking place on the Detroit frontier in what was then the far West. The editor of his memoirs says of the War that: “the whole took place in a demoniac environment created by the presence in the ranks on both sides (but mostly on the British) of the Indians. The fear of falling into Indian hands affected command decisions as much as it influenced the behavior of individuals.”129 This judgment is born out most notoriously by the number of rather hasty surrenders carried out by jittery American commanders to their “civilized” British counter-parts. The most notable of these was, of course, that of General Hull’s entire army at Detroit, generally regarded as the decisive engagement of the War of 1812.130 Similar incidents of “Indian terror” on a

126 The Argentine campaign provides an unusual instance of officer prisoners experiencing worse treatment than men from the ranks. A number of British officers were actually killed by a street mob after the surrender. Ensign William Gavin of the 71st recorded that on August 13, 1806: “I was taken to a Spaniard’s house whose inmates treated me most kindly, and during the frenzy of the mob in search of the English officers concealed me under a bed.” William Gavin. The Diary of William Gavin. Ed. By Charles Oman (Glasgow: 1921), 9. 127 170 soldiers of the 71st accepted the offer according to General Whitelocke. This regiment spent by far the longest period in captivity and was captured as a whole rather than as detachments. Unfortunately, given the sectarian nature of the blandishments made unto them, we have no confessional breakdown as to the deserters’ religious affiliations. In addition, it should be born in mind that the regiment contained 80 Germans who had been captured by the British in South Africa and then volunteered to enter the 71st. Ensign Gavin records that during the street fighting in Buenos Aires; “the Dutch (sic) recruits we received at the Cape deserted to the enemy and one to them was actually (re)taken with the lighted match in his hands at one of their guns.” British prisoners who settled in Argentina formed their own unit in San Martin’s army during the War of Independence in the 1820’s. H. S. Ferns. Britain and Argentina in the Nineteenth Century. (Oxford: 1960) 57. Gavin, 7. 128 Howell. 11. 129 130 Sir Isaac Brock to General , August 15, 1812: Sir, The force at my disposal authorizes me to require of you the immediate surrender of Fort Detroit. It is far from my intention to join in a war of extermination, but you must be aware that the numerous body of Indians who have attached themselves to my troops, will be beyond controul the moment the contest commences. You will find me disposed to enter into such conditions as will satisfy the most scrupulous sense of honour. Lieut.-colonel M’Donnell and major Glegg are fully to conclude anf arrangement that may lead to prevent the unnecessary effusion of blood.

179 less extravagant scale abound. Lieutenant Joseph Birney of the Wentworth Battalion of the Canadian militia recorded an incident that occurred shortly after the British victory at Heights: That evening while walking along the top of the bank with some brother officers, we heard groans below us, and on looking over found a Yankee officer, wounded, and hanging on to some brush he had seized. With considerable trouble we got him up, when he piteously begged us not to kill him. We told him we did not kill prisoners. Then he made us promise to protect to protect him from the Indians, who would scalp him on sight. After quieting his fears and putting him into surgeon’s hands, we left him exceeding thankful.131

Canadian militiamen would often let out war whoops in an effort to overawe the Americans; on at least one occasion (the Battle of Stony Creek, June 6, 1813) a small force of using this tactic brought a much larger American force to a standstill, allowing British reinforcements to arrive and drive off the invaders.132 Perhaps, the most remarkable incident of a panic surrender by American troops took place at the (June 24, 1813) and it made something of a legend out of a common soldier commissioned from the ranks, Lieut. James Fitzgibbon of the 49th133. An American force of over 600 men had sallied out of Fort George (near present day Niagara-on-the Lake, Ontario) in the direction of Fitzgibbon’s outpost 15 miles to the West. A Canadian lady, brought news of the American advance. Fitzgibbon had less than fifty men under his command but was aware that at least 300 were encamped between himself and the Americans. By the time Fitzgibbon’s small force had encountered the invaders the latter were already hotly engaged and losing men fast. Well aware of the ‘personal terror of the Indians’ manifested by the Americans Fitzgibbon decided to “come the old soldier over them and demand their surrender.” The Lieutenant approached the Americans under a white flag and informed them they were facing a battalion of British troops in addition to the Indians. The first reply made by the American commander Col. Boerstler (through one of his company commander Capt. MacDowell) was to see the redcoats he was being asked to surrender to. Fitzgibbon informed him that their (fictitious) Colonel would not agree to uncover his men. Boerstler then requested to be given a ceasefire until sundown.

This ultimatum was immediately succeeded by Hull’s surrender (2000 American troops surrendering to roughly 300 Britons and 5-600 Indians) on the condition: “all the troops, regulars and militia, will be immediately surrendered to the British forces under the command of Major-General Brock, and will be considered prisoners of war…” Ernest Cruikshank. Documents Relating to the Invasion of Canada and the Surrender of Detroit, 1812. (New York: 1971) 144-147. 131 “Tales of War – Queenston Heights” ed by J.H. Land. Papers and Records of the Wentworth Historical Society. Vol. 6, 1915. 63. 132 Mabel Thompson. “Billy Green – The Scout” Ontario History vol. 44, 1952. 175-177. The hero of the incident, sixteen year-old Billy Green was actually too young to be a militiaman. He simply attached himself to his older brother. He left a record of his first encounter with the Americans: “…we espied the troops marching up the road. We stayed there until all the enemy but a few had passed through…Then we yelled like Indians. I tell you those simple fellows did run.” 133 Fitzgibbon was an Irish Catholic who had been a sergeant Sir Isaac Brock’s company of the 49th. The latter referred to Fitzgibbon as “my favorite sergeant-major” and had paid for his ensign’s commission in 1806.

180 Fitzgibbon’s reply played upon the known fears of the Americans. He informed MacDowell with some emotion that “I cannot possibly grant such a request. I could not control the Indians for such a length of time. I cannot give your general (sic) more than five minutes in which to decide whether to surrender or not.” Capt. MacDowell now asked if his men might be paroled upon surrender. Fitzgibbon calmly replied that although the Americans regularly accused the British of ‘stimulating the Indians to destroy’ them they would take this occasion to prove British clemency by granting the Americans their parole. MacDowell then agreed on behalf of his commander to surrender the entire American force depending upon Fitzgibbon “as a British officer to protect our men from the Indians.” Fitzgibbon replied “I can only give you this assurance, the Indians must take my life before they attack you.” On this pledge 25 American officers and 519 men (with two cannon) passed into the hands of Lieut. Fitzgibbon and his 46 redcoats. Fitzgibbon was subsequently promoted to captain and given command of a company in the Canadian Fencible Regiment. . General Vincent, commanding all British forces on the Niagara frontier recorded in his dispatch “to the conduct of Lieut. Fitzgibbon of the 49th Regiment, through whose address the capitulation was entered into, may be attributed the surrender of the American army.134” Fitzgibbon’s conduct was itself predicated on his knowledge of the frankly uncontrollable terror the Americans repeatedly exhibited when confronted with the prospect of capture by Indians. Private Byfield’s memoirs reveal a further bifurcation between the war fought between the British and American armies and the war fought between the Americans and the Indians. In fact there is evidence that the British troops, at least in the last stages of the campaign in the North-West, were considerably more worried by their Indian allies than they were by the Americans.135 Private Byfield first encountered Indians close up after the British victory at Detroit. A scouting party delivered up to Byfield’s horrified Captain five scalps, two ears and an American officer’s sword136. Several months later Byfield observed the rout of an American force outside of Fort Meigs in : I saw another of the enemy, that the Indians had met with scalped, lying in a miserable plight and begging for water; and while covering over his head with boughs, to screen it from the heat of the sun, a party of Indians came up and found fault with us for showing any lenity for a dying man; and one instantly dispatched him with his tomahawk. We took several prisoners in the woods, and marched them to the camp. In this affair, a considerable number on both sides were killed and wounded. The prisoners being secured and the detached men being come in, the Indians who had lost many of their companions began to manifest a disposition to be revenged on the prisoners, and actually fired amongst them, and killed one of our men who opposed them in their cruel intentions.137

134 135 Sandy Antal. A Wampum Denied (Ottawa: 1997) 331-349. In discussing relations between British troops and Indians we should also bear in mind the latter’s role as deserter “hunters.,” as revealed in Burgoyne’s orderly book 136 Shadrach Byfield. “A Common Soldier’s Account,” John Gellner (ed.) Recollections of the War of 1812. (Toronto:1964) 137 Ibid 12-13

181 While on guard duty at Detroit Byfield befriended an American trader whose entire family had been killed by Indians. This friendship further heightened Byfield’s distaste for his country’s allies. At the Battle of Moraviantown in 1813 Byfield’s regiment surrendered to ’s army after offering only token resistance. This incident occurred following a series of increasingly acrimonious (and potentially violent) confrontations between the British and their Indian allies.138 Byfield was one of the only soldiers of the 41st not to be taken prisoner. He managed to escape with the help of an English speaking, Metis interpreter. The latter took Byfield through several Indian villages warning him, however, not to remain too long in any one village if he ever wished to see a British settlement again. The Indians were suffering manpower problems and were not above mixing a Briton with their American captives139. Byfield took part in the last stages of fighting on the , and was present at Lundy’s Lane, the most sanguinary and bitterly contested battle of the War. Afterwards: “in the morning, we collected the wounded and received orders to burn the dead. One of the Indians persisted in throwing one of the wounded Americans on the fire while living, although prevented several times; one of our men shot him and he was burned himself.” This last incident is corroborated in the diary of Sergeant Commins of the 8th Foot140. This incident serves as an appropriate coda to the unhappy relationship between Byfield’s Regiment and their comrades-in-arms. Sgt. James Comins of the 8th seconds Byfield’s views in matters other than the incident at Lundy’s Lane. His letters provide unflattering descriptions of both Native Americans and their Kentuckian enemies. Comins’ first letter, written to a curious gentleman acquaintance in York, England, addresses the matter very directly. The Indians are not ‘those brave warriors and have such a contempt for death as you may have heard before.” Rather they are “cowardly” and “despicable” in a pitched battle. In addition “their cruelty exceeds everything I have seen among enemies.” Comins believes that the conduct of the Indians in war bears out the proverb that “a cruel man was never brave.” Comins has considerable respect for the American regulars who became better disciplined as the War went on: “War was a new game to the Americans as they had not seen an hostile engagement in the country forty years, except with the Indians, but I can assure you they improved by experience and before peace was concluded were a truly

138 Sandy Antal. A Wampum Denied (Richmond, Ontario: 1997). 331-349. Proctor’s extraordinary decision to place his one British battalion in a skirmish line, despite the presence of at least 600 American cavalry on the field, was taken under pressure from his much more numerous allies who saw little to recommend in close order. The Mounted Riflemen simply rode through this novel formation “I do not think a man of the first line loaded a second time. They immediately dispersed, some towards the second line, some into the wood. The officers were calling in all directions but it had no effect” – Col. Warbuton of the 41st. 139 Byfield. 26-29. 140 Byfield. 38. Sgt. Comins – “ …the Indians as usual behaved ill, although we had near a thousand of them not one of them stood to fight but fled like hares as soon as the engagement began, in fact I never saw them stand their ground. But as soon as the Yankees had retreated they assembled to the field to plunder the dead and the dying. One of these miscreants busy in plundering came to an American that had been severely wounded and not being able to get off the man’s boots threw him into a fire that had been made to cook the officers’ breakfast. One of the soldiers standing by and being filled with indignation such barbarity shot the Indian and threw him on the fire…”

182 formidable enemy141.” The American regulars fought in the open field and resembled no organization so much as the British Army by 1814. At Lundy’s Lane the Americans were simply “loth to quit their position” in the “most obstinate142” battle Comins ever took part in. Alongside Comins’ praise for the American regular army come harsh words for their militia, particularly the Kentuckians. These latter Comins believed played a role for the Americans comparable to that the Indians essayed for the British; since the Americans were unable to “flatter their own Indians over to Canada.” The Kentuckians captured by the British at Stony Creek in June, 1813 were the “most barbarous illiterate beings in America.” They were known to “daub themselves all over with red paint” and in “summer nearly went naked.” In addition each was armed with a “scalloping (sic) knife” and “after the engagements they scallop the killed and the wounded.143” Sgt. Comins draws such clear, moral distinctions between regular and irregular warfare that his vivid descriptions of battle and retreats through the wilderness are almost eclipsed. He was outraged at the intrusion of skulking bands of savages (white and red) on the fields of honor. British soldiers exhibited many of the same attributes (and attitudes) in colonial stations outside India as they manifested on service in the sub-continent. The apparent difference concerning high desertion rates in Canada actually reinforces the general trend for colonial service; British soldiers were far more likely to desert in Canada because life across the border in the United States offered opportunities greater than those in Britain itself. There was nothing ‘exotic’ or ‘other’ in these fresh vistas. Rather they might present a deserter with a prospect of a very familiar variety of ‘respectability;’ one unattainable for a former ‘ranker’ in Britain. It was not America’s exoticism that beckoned but its sheer familiarity. In nothing is this more apparent then in the unflattering descriptions of Native Americans articulated by British veterans of the War of 1812. Of all the British soldiers discussed in this chapter only Andrew Bryson can be said to have ‘identified’ with non-European indigenous peoples. And his case was, of course, an extraordinary one. The paucity of narratives describing the experiences of British soldiers in the West Indies creates difficulties in contrasting Bryson’s views with those of his contemporaries. However, the narrative of James Aytoun of the 30th, a soldier who was, as we have seen unusually critical of both his Officers and his government144, provides us with a counter-weight to Bryson’s humanitarianism. Aytoun, who served on Dominica from 1787-90, was scarcely more sympathetic to the authorities than Bryson

141 The Americans were measurably assisted by the “hundreds” of British soldiers whom they encouraged to desert. The deserters, according to Comins, helped the Americans gain “a thorough knowledge of discipline.” The Americans became “better organized under more subordination, as they endeavoured to adopt all of our plans.” Interestingly the Sergeant was also convinced that the French were organizing the American artillery and engineer Corps, providing them with better regulation. This unsupported supposition further reinforces the notion that British troops regarded their French enemies with unusual respect (see chapter 4 above). 142 143 144 Aytoun on the Army’s failures in America - “No wonder the Yankees beat our men, who were commanded by absentees or fellows who never lost sight of their mother’s fire.” Also see chapter three above.

183 (military, colonial or otherwise), yet his depiction of the slaves of the island lacks Bryson’s empathy. Rather he continually points to those aspects of the slaves’ condition that renders them more secure then the British poor (or British soldiers)145. Aytoun states flatly “I never saw any beggars in Dominica except an English sailor sometimes who happened to be left on shore accidentally or from bad behavior.146” Unlike the poor in England, “turned off without the smallest compensation, left in their old days to beg and not safe when begging,” slaves received an allowance of provision for life. Further, “the negroes have a great deal more liberty than soldiers147” being allowed more freedom of movement between their own plantation barracks. Aytoun avers that he never saw a slave receive more than 40 lashes, a mild punishment by Army standards. The physical appearance of the slaves was “contented and healthy…I never saw a population who appeared to be better fed.” Finally, Aytoun criticizes Wilberforce and the abolitionist movement: “He (Wilberforce) thought the word, Slave, was meant to say, “Flog him,” but he should have looked at home to the conditions of soldiers and sailors.148” This judgment of Pvt. Aytoun’s, although almost inexpressibly offensive to modern sensibilities, would likely have had considerable resonance with his comrades.

145 The private does not dehumanize the slaves in his depiction of them. The black slaves “are shrewd and acute and are capable of conducting themselves as well if not better than a great many of the white slaves in the British Isles.” It is, however, the condition of the white slaves (especially those in redcoats) that is Aytoun’s main concern. 146 147 Ibid. 28 148 ibid 30.

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VIII. CONCLUSION: “THE FOUNDATION OF BRITISH STRENGTH”

The comparison I would draw between the British and the French soldiers would be thus. The latter at the commencement of an action are all spirit and bravery, but when manfully opposed, or the encounter is of any duration, they relax and finally give way. The former are just the reverse; patient under hardships, not easily roused, but when excited no danger can stop their headlong career. ‘Tis either death or victory and no note on the bugle is so known as the advance.

This statement by Sgt. John Douglas of the Royal Scots is only one among many that appear in virtually all soldier memoirs of the period addressed in this dissertation. British soldiers repeatedly drew attention to questions of national character in their writings, generally to the detriment of foreigners (foe or friend). This seems to lend credence to the assertion by Christopher Duffy quoted in the Introduction that ‘patriotism’ was a ‘most pronounced trait’ among British soldiers of the 18th Century. British soldiers expressed their feelings of difference in especially emphatic terms while on colonial service. The assertions of both xenophobia and positive patriotism are given credence by the low incidence of desertion among British soldiers on foreign service; the notable exception being Canada with its long, ever-beckoning border with the United States. We have seen that even the savagery of military punishments in the British service did not necessarily lead to alienation from either the Army or the nation. The ubiquity of corporal punishment in India did not undermine the loyalty of men who were seen by their leaders as the backbone of Imperial power; they remained ‘our greatest dependence’ in time of emergency even if they proved awkward to manage in times of peace. It is instructive in this context to draw upon the observations of General Maximilian Foy who fought against the British throughout most of the Peninsular War. Foy noted the ubiquity of corporal punishment and even suggested that the British “were naturally inclined to mutiny, but cruel punishment keeps them to their duty.” However, this was a tendency that was not evident on the field of battle. Rather it was a part of the English soldier’s character: “His soul is vigorous, because his father has told him, and his officers never cease repeating to him, that the sons of Old England, plentifully replenished with porter, and with roast beef, are each of them equal to at least any three individuals in the pygmy races which vegetate on the continent of Europe.” In Foy’s experience violence was an Englishman’s birthright. As was patriotism: “An exclusive attachment to their own manners inspires them with contempt for those of other nations, and serves as a preservative against desertion.” The British soldier may have been bibulous, irascible, even disobedient but he rarely doubted his superiority over his enemy and his nation’s superiority over any and all foreigners. Marshal Foy’s description of the motivations of the soldiers he fought against was seconded by their Commander. The Duke of Wellington has generally appeared in this dissertation in the role of a disciplinarian and a savage one. He was never free with praise, however, he never lost sight of the qualities of the men he commanded. He did

185 call the British infantryman the “item upon which victory depends” and (with characteristic warmth) “the best of all devices.” However, Wellington’s best expression of the value of the British soldier was written in India. Here after six years service he wrote a memorandum re-affirming Cornwallis’ observation that British rule ultimately relied on the British soldier. It is a document worth quoting in full: The English soldiers are the main foundation of the British power in Asia. They are a body with habits, manners and qualities peculiar to them in the East Indies. Bravery is the characteristic of the British army in all quarters of the world; but no other quarter has afforded such striking examples of the existence of this quality as the East Indies. An instance of their misbehavior in the field has never been known; and particularly those who have been for some time in the country cannot be ordered upon any service, however dangerous or arduous, that they will not effect, not only with bravery, but a degree of skill not often witnessed in persons of their description in other parts of the world. And Wellesley (as he then was) had a clear idea of what moral factor motivated the soldiers’ behavior and achievement in India: I attribute these qualities, which are peculiar to them in the East Indies, to the distinction of their class in that country from all others existing in it. They feel that they are a distinct and superior class to the rest of the world which surrounds them; and their actions correspond to their high notions of their own superiority. Add to these qualities that their bodies are inured to climate, hardship and fatigue by long residence, habit, and exercise, to such a degree that I have seen them together in the field without suffering any material sickness; that I have made them march 60 miles in 30 hours, and afterwards engage the enemy; and it will not be surprising that they should be respected, as they are, throughout India. Wellesley recognized that the soldiers’ exalted notions of their own superiority might come at a cost; but if the British were to remain masters in India it was one worth paying: …Their weaknesses and vices, however repugnant to the feelings and prejudices of the natives, are passed over in contemplation of their excellent qualities as soldiers, of which no nation has hitherto given such extraordinary instances. These qualities are the foundation of the British strength in Asia, and of that opinion by which it is generally supposed that the British Empire has been gained and upheld. These qualities show in what manner nations, consisting of millions are governed by 30,000 strangers… The British soldier envisioned himself as a class apart in India; this identity would lead him to commit excesses but it would also make him to be a terribly formidable instrument of war. And his qualities, ameliorated only slightly by a change of geography, would characterize Wellington’s Army in the Peninsula as well. Wellington’s constant complaint in the Peninsula was not that his troops lacked devotion (let alone aggression) but that they could not be made to respect the Spaniards and the Portuguese. I would argue that the sense of exclusivity felt by the ‘common’ British soldiers in India was of a similar quality to that their brethren showed in the Peninsula. Although the terms English and British were frequently used as synonyms during the period we are discussing I have pointed out numerous expressions of national particularity among soldiers from all three kingdoms. Obviously the “Scotland, Forever,” charge stands out among these incidents. Yet Scottishness is never expressed as anything

186 other than an aspect of British feeling; it is regionalism rather than nationalism. Just as the repeated expressions of a particular Highland pride are not reflections of hostility towards Edinburgh and the Lowlands. These regional feelings tended to enhance corporate identity especially on active service. The paucity of first-hand accounts written by Irish Catholics can never fail to be a source of regret. Yet the repeated expressions of respect for Irish comrades made in memoirs written by English and Scots ‘rankers’ tends to confirm the success of integrating Irish Catholic soldiers into the Regular Army (if in scarcely any other British institution). The key was not merely the sort of training and initiation experiences described by Sgt. Joseph Donaldson of the 94th. It was the reality of overseas service. In addition to having Irishmen as comrades Sgt. William Lawrence of the 40th describes an incident in the Argentine campaign which brought him in close contact with an Irishman from a cavalry Regiment. The British had captured the town of San Pedro near Montevideo and Lawrence was inspecting a storehouse containing leather hides, looking for stray Spaniards and plunder. Suddenly, a Spanish militiaman emerged from behind a rack of hides and brandished a pistol at Lawrence. The Sergeant “became pretty active, as may be supposed under the circumstances” and knocked away the Spaniard’s arm as he fired, the bullet narrowly missing the Englishman’s head. This made Lawrence: …very much enraged with the man, and determined he should not escape. Unfortunately for him, one of our dismounted cavalry, an Irishman, came in, and on my telling him there was a Spaniard behind the hides, who had just fired a pistol at me, “Tare an’ ‘ounds,” says he, “I’ll fetch him out; you stand at one end to stop him with your bayonet while I drive him out.” So Paddy went round with his sword, and after a little exercise behind, “Look out comrade,” he sang out, “he’s coming;” and sure enough I skewered him to the wall by driving my bayonet right through his body, while Paddy came out and finished him by splitting his head nearly in two with his heavy sword, remarking as he did it, “Bad luck to ye, I don’t think ye’ll ever shoot another Englishman, or Irishman either.” Experiences like this would cement ties between soldiers of the Three Kingdoms in ways no amount of time on home service ever could1.

1 The only incident of intense antipathy between British soldiers based on nationality is described by Sgt. Eadie of the 79th Highlanders. It did not occur during his time in a Line Regiment, however; rather it occurred in the a unit Eadie served in prior to entering the 79th. “The regiment was a motely of different countrymen being composed of the natives, English, Scotch and Irish…In consequence of which the country you were born in became the object of ridicule and derision and yourself branded with the most opprobrious names.” Eadie himself engaged in a physical confrontation with a Welshman whose heal he had trodden on while marching in files: “he instantly turned round and imprecated the most horrible curses upon me and my country and terminated his malignity by a most abominable epithet which modesty restrains me from mentioning here.” Eadie knocked the Welshman down and then when menaced by an NCO with the latter’s cane threatened further violence ( this incident took place in the mid-1790’s further affirming Aytoun’s evidence of the use of corporal punishment during this period) Eadie was arrested but released by his Colonel, a Scot, who evinced “much satisfaction” on hearing the details of the incident even giving the prisoner “a few shillings” for his troubles. Eadie further records that the Colonel did then take matters into hand and threatened corporal punishment to any soldier who was “so base to betray the least symptom of an ungenerous disposition, in reproaching his neighbor with his country.” The Colonel’s intervention “spoken with such vehemence of tone, and expression of countenance” apparently had an effect as no further incidents occurred.

187 In their great work on the motivations of the American Soldier during the Second World War the team of sociologists and psychologists under Samuel A Stouffer working for the War Department and the Trust discovered that prayer served as a vitally important moral reinforcement for men in combat. 70% of Pacific veterans and 83% of Mediterranean veterans stated that “helped a lot” when “the going was tough.” British soldiers of our era are often described as a godless lot and certainly the testimony of devout soldiers like Sgt. Plummer of the 22nd describing their vicissitudes in preaching to their comrades go some way to confirm this. Positive expressions of Protestant faith are certainly a less common occurrence in British soldiers’ memoirs than is aggressive derision of foreign religions; this latter might be said to serve as their most important expression and form of religious motivation. However, expressions of positive faith do appear, (often alongside anti-Catholic outbursts) even in soldiers who do not set out to self-consciously create a spiritual autobiography. Sergeant Benjamin Miller of the Royal Artillery served on Minorca from 1797- 1802 and he apparently spent much of his time (having acquired some grasp of Spanish) in debate with the Spanish clergy. Miller noted that the Minorcans were “much attached to the English,” but that their priests “are great Bigots.” He was, however, deeply interested in foreign religious practices and became “very intimate with the priests and friars” observing them performing Mass and speaking to them when they visited the English barracks. Miller was present on the administering of Extreme Unction on at least one occasion. He finally asked a Franciscan friar directly “what they meant by Confession, doing penance, and giving absolution”? The Friar responded that these were the duties of all Christians and cited scripture – John xx, 23 and James v, 16 on the remission of sins and the need to confess faults. Sgt. Miller (who apparently recognized both references immediately) retorted that confession meant “confessing your faults one to another” and didn’t require clerical interference. He then asked who actually remitted sins, the priests or God, and raised serious doubts about the character (“drunken and debauched”) of many priests. The debate then became somewhat more acrimonious with the friar telling Miller flatly that “if I died without confession and absolution I should surely go to Hell.” Miller responded that he would confess his sins before God alone, “and I hoped he would absolve me from all my sins, but before I would give a priest a shilling to confess me I would go and spend it on a halter to hang him.” They then exchanged scriptural citations the Friar employing Corinthians v, 5 to defend penance as a means to absolution and Sgt. Miller responding with Corinthians v, 13 calling for malefactors to be cast out rather than be given penance. The friar responded that penance “was a very wholesome discipline and served an important end” leaving himself open for Miller’s retort: Yes, I told him, it did, for it made the people more afraid of the priest than of God himself, for you make them obey you but your penance will not make them obey God, so that penance is more of the benefit of the Clergy than it is to prevent sin. And where is the need of your absolution? For if God forgives us, what need have we for absolution of the priest? And, if He does not forgive us, your absolution is of no avail. The conversation continued with the apparently impressed friar remarking that in England the “soldiers were all priests and carried the Bible.” However, he then condemned this practice saying even that “if he had the ruling of England he would have

188 all the (vernacular) Bibles burned.” Miller responded that the English would “burn all the priests first or hang them with their beads” rather than lose their Bibles. The Spaniards unfortunately were a “poor, weak, blinded, deluded set of people” mislead by “a set of hypocrites.” Along with the offices of priests Miller went on to excoriate the doctrine of purgatory, Mariolatry (Luke xi, 27) and the veneration of Saints. Miller referred to the Ten Commandments and the prohibition against graven images for this last bit of invective. The Friar pointed out that the Saints weren’t actually worshipped to which Miller retorted that “kneeling and praying to wooden Saints” amounted to the same thing. The conversation ended with the friar expressing misgivings about an extended English occupation to which the Sergeant replied “bad as we were we were much better Christians than they were, and we should strive to enlighten the people as much as possible…(as) their religion was all blindfold absurdity.” Sergeant Miller was clearly a man aroused and motivated by deep Protestant convictions. They served to, at the very least, make him identify with his country and with the Army. One finds it very difficult to imagine him being likely to desert in an alien environment, surrounded by the “deluded” and their canting masters. Rather he engaged in missionary activities. When billeted on a Minorcan family he read the children “Romances” interspersed with extracts from the Bible. This ended when the family’s priest told them the latter was ‘not a good book’ and Miller responded by informing his audience that the Priest was a ‘great rogue’ and they were ‘fools, which very much offended them’ This brought an end to his readings yet Miller continued to do his level best to bring the Gospel to the unenlightened Spaniards. Religious feeling enhanced national feeling for British soldiers garrisoned in alien surroundings. However, they hardly served as the sole prop of identity Sgt. Joseph Coates of the 36th expressed a combination of irreligious political radicalism and intensely xenophobic patriotism in his memoir. While not going so far as to lament the fall of Napoleon Coates repeatedly accuses the authorities of Britain of wishing to impose a similar Imperial tyranny upon their own country; he saw Britain’s alliance with Russia in a particularly sinister light fearing that the Duke of Wellington’s Russophilia would lead to a repression using the methods of Nicholas I2. Invidious comparisons with foreign nations were thus not solely the prerogative of pious soldiers such as Sgt. Miller. Coates’ long service on Gibraltar allowed him the opportunity of making the acquaintance of a wide variety of Mediterranean peoples: Jews, Genoese, Moors, Spaniards and Portuguese. All of these, he found notably wanting in comparison to the British: There are few countries which have not contributed to furnish Gibraltar with inhabitants, but if the sample which that place furnishes was to influence me in judging the countries which produced them, I should, in making choice of one, where to spend my future days, not select any which could boast of that distinction. Coates description of Gibraltar rather resembles that of a great prison yard in which each ethnic group maintains its own territory: “the inhabitants do not attempt to detect a theft committed on some of the nation or tribe to which they belong.” He notes that British

2 Writing after the passage of the Reform Bill, Coates envisaged a possible Tory emigration as well: “ the tender Nicholas, the autocrat of all the Russians; his dominions are wide enough for their accommodation, and from his congeniality of feeling, he would doubtless listen to their supplications.”

189 soldiers sometimes took advantage of this fact recalling the sight of soldiers “with two or three screaming fowls in swinging their hands, which they had snatched out of a Jew’s basket” being chased by a handful of Jews while all the other inhabitants laughed at the scene. Coates anticipated the soldier-memorialists of the Peninsular in his description of Portuguese laborers on the “Rock.” Their one-room sheds “were disgusting to persons of cleanly habits.” They were prey “to a description of animal, less active than fleas, but more domestic than bugs…they submit to the depredations committed by those invaders with apparent resignation, without taking measures for their expulsion.” Coates believed that this submission to being “perpetual prey to tormenting stings and loathsome sensations” was a product of the Portuguese environment: “under the tyranny of a despotic government they sink into a state of indolence and sloth, which exposes them to the inroads of every disgusting malady.” The example of the unfortunate Portuguese proves that “the people of all countries are happy or wretched in proportion to the freedom which they enjoy.” Despite all the failings of British government and society, Coates had no doubt he and his fellow soldiers were happier than the unfortunate Portuguese or any other denizens of the “Rock.” No British soldier-memorialist so thoroughly exemplifies a stolid yet almost heroically unassailable hostility to alien surroundings as Sergeant George Holmes of the 10th Light Dragoons. He was the ranking NCO with Lord Macartney’s Embassy to China during the years 1792-94. His travelogue of the expedition reveals a devotion to duty and to detail. He traces the voyage of the Hindostan to Macao in great detail and then presents the reader with an extensive description of his experiences in the Middle Kingdom. The deaths of half-a-dozen soldiers from various causes are described as well. It was first during the that it first became common to describe the British regular army as a mercenary force. The men were drawn from the lowest elements of society, subsequently brutalized by corporal punishment and then thrown into battle to fight for causes that were never their own. John Ruskin condemned the gentry of England for blindly urging “your peasant millions into gladiatorial war.” He believed that it was shameful to “put your quarrel into the hearts of the poor, and sign your treaties with peasants’ blood.” Thomas Carlyle described the fate of thirty common soldiers drawn from the mythical village of “Dumdrudge” and sent to the Peninsula: “Had these men any quarrel with the French?...Simpleton! their governors had fallen out; and instead of shooting one another, had the cunning to make these poor blockheads shoot.” Although there may be much to be said for Carlyle’s political analysis of the Napoleonic Wars he does a serious disservice to characters of the men he is seeking to make subjects of pity. The British soldiers of the Peninsular era were volatile individuals with a strong sense of identity; even if the cause they served appears ever more distasteful to us than it did Carlyle they were never simply dupes. In this context it is instructive to look at the judgments of observers of an earlier era. The 1750’s were an era in which Britain won great victories but her soldiers were outcasts in their own society, flogging was ubiquitous and soldiers served for twenty-one years. Thus it is a time closer to our subjects than the post-Reform Bill era of the Victorians when material conditions for soldiers actually were improving. Samuel Johnson, a critic of both Continental War and Empire, reflected on the victories won by

190 British troops in the 1750’s. He had no doubt that the redcoats were more than pawns of their government. They were men as committed as their officers: We can shew a peasantry of heroes, and fill our armies with clowns, whose courage may vie with that of their (the French) generals…and they who complain, in peace of the insolence of the populace, must remember that their insolence in peace is bravery in war. For Dr. Johnson each English soldier was motivated by his own sense of personal and national honor; and this sense was as strong as that of his officers. Johnson’s contemporary Oliver Goldsmith presented readers with a similar perspective in his “The Distresses of a Common Soldier.” The piece is presented as an essay rather than a story and is best read as a compilation of Goldsmith’s experiences. Like Dr. Johnson he was fascinated by military and naval men. The Soldier Goldsmith describes is a discharged beggar, crippled with a wooden leg. Goldsmith encounters him begging outside a tavern. The author enquires as to ‘the manner in which he was reduced to his present distress.’ The Soldier was the son of an agricultural laborer who’d died when his offspring was five years old. As the father had no fixed residence the son was bundled from parish to parish across Shropshire. When he became old enough the master of one of the workhouses took him in as a servant and then bound him out to a farmer. Here “I was up both early and late; but I ate and drank well and liked my business well enough.” At the farmer’s death he found himself unemployed. He went from town to town until being arrested for poaching and vagrancy. This put him in Newgate for five months (“as agreeable a place as ever I was in my life”) and the “plantations” for seven years “where I was obliged to work among the negroes.” He returned to England at the end of his sentence and attempted to find work about London. Here, he was crimped and given a choice of either sea or land service. He chose the latter and “in this post of a gentleman” served “two campaigns in Flanders” being wounded once. At the end of the War (1748) he entered the East India Company’s service where he actually was well-compensated returning to England with 40 pounds. Unfortunately his return coincided with the resumption of hostilities with France and he was impressed into service once again; on a privateer. He was captured at sea by the French and lost his leg in a successful escape attempt (despite the fact that the French jail “was nothing to me, for I was seasoned”). This left him destitute and a beggar as his wound had been received while engaged on a privateer meaning he was ineligible for a pension. Goldsmith’s moral is a simple one: It is inconceivable what difficulties the meanest of our common sailors and soldiers endure without murmuring or regret; without passionately declaiming against Providence or calling their fellows to be gazers on their intrepidity. Every day is to them a day of misery and yet they entertain their hard fate with out repining In the course of writing this dissertation I have found that Goldsmith’s Soldier is no mere . Rejection by society and indifference towards a soldier’s suffering are all to be found in abundance throughout the writings of soldiers themselves. That Goldsmith’s veteran served a generation before my own subjects helps to vindicate the essentially unchanged nature of service in the British Army throughout the ‘long’ 18th century. Of course, Goldsmith’s picture is rendered without any depiction of the self-destructive

191 behaviors so frequently described by soldier-memorialists. Although the interview at the heart of the essay takes place in a tavern the subject describes no incidents of excessive drinking. However, Goldsmith does mention a kind of a palliative that the veteran Soldier has recourse to: Patriotism. During his escape from the French the Soldier describes the English prisoners rushing their guards despite being unarmed themselves since “one Englishman is able to beat five French at any time.” His politics are summed up in two phrases “I hate the French because they are all slaves, and wear wooden shoes” and “Liberty and Old England, forever.” These sentiments, like the sufferings of common soldiers, are omnipresent in British soldiers’ memoirs, in their diaries and in the descriptions of them left behind by their officers. Wherever they served and whatever they fought for they always brought Britain with them. Patriotism may be ‘the virtue of the vicious’ but is a virtue nonetheless.

192 APPENDIX: The geographical location of desertions attempted in the British Army between 1811 and 18151: Regiment # deserters Location of desertion incidents 1st/1st Guards 66 62 UK, 3 France, 1 Belgium 2nd/1st Guards 38 All UK 3rd/1st Guards 2 All UK 1st Coldstream Guards 27 All UK 2nd Coldstream Guards 24 All UK 1st/3rd Guards 23 All UK 2nd/3rd Guards 8 All UK 1st/1st 216 145 UK, 70 Canada, 1 Peninsula 3rd/1st 61 49 UK, 8 France, 4 Belgium 4th/1st 286 All UK 1st/3rd 23 All UK 2nd/3rd 42 All UK 1st/4th 37 15 UK, 14 Peninsula, 4 Canada, 4 Belgium 2nd/4th 60 All UK 1st/5th 107 25 UK, 81 Canada2, 1 Peninsula 2nd/5th 102 78 UK, 20 Canada, 4 Peninsula 1st/6th 10 All UK 1st/7th 72 50 UK, 22 France 2nd/7th 36 All UK 1st/8th 102 10 UK, 92 Canada 2nd/8th 17 2 UK, 15 Canada 1st/9th 43 26 UK, 11 Peninsula, 6 Canada 2nd/9th 62 All UK 1st/10th 19 18 UK, 1 Sicily 2nd/10th 3 All UK 1st/11th 17 All UK 2nd/11th 11 All UK 1st/12th 20 18 UK, 2 Canada 2nd/12th 37 30 UK, 7 Canada 13th 9 All UK 1st/14th 72 67 UK, 5 Genoa 2nd/14th 12 9 Italy, 3 UK

1 Some records cover shorter periods of time (as marked) 2 The 1st/5th , a Corps nicknamed Wellington’s Bodyguard for its remarkable exploits in the Peninsula, served in Canada a grand total of five months; April-August 1815.

193 3rd/14th 21 All UK 1st/15th 35 All UK 2nd/15th 29 All UK 16th 91 79 UK, 12 Canada 17th 28 All UK 1st/18th 4 All UK 2nd/18th 7 All UK 19th 57 All UK 20th 25 24 UK, 1 Portugal 1st/21st 36 25 UK, 11 Italy 2nd/21st 45 All UK 22nd 61 57 UK, 4 Mauritius 1st/38th 12 All UK 2nd/38th 7 5 India, 2 UK 1st/39th 40 27 Canada, 12 UK, 1 Spain 2nd/39th 69 67 UK, 2 Portugal 1st/40th 13 11 UK, 1 Spain, 1 France 2nd/40th 3 All UK 1st/41st 36 32 UK, 4 Canada 2nd/41st 13 7 Canada, 6 UK 1st/42nd 27 12 France, 11 UK, 4 Spain 2nd/42nd 27 All UK 1st/43rd 56 39 UK, 12 Spain, 5 France 2nd/43rd 89 All UK 1st/44th 28 26 UK, 2 Spain 2nd/44th 39 33 UK, 6 Belgium 1st/45th 16 9 Peninsula, 7 UK 2nd/45th 44 All UK 46th 36 All UK 1st/ 47th 50 All UK 2nd/47th 40 15 UK, 25 Peninsula 1st/48th 33 22 UK, 11 Peninsula 2nd/48th 61 All UK 49th 69 61 Canada, 8 UK 1st/50th 28 17 Peninsula, 11 UK 2nd/50th 40 All UK 51st 77 71 UK, 2 Spain, 2 France, 2 Belgium 1st/52nd 55 29 UK, 21 Peninsula, 5 France 2nd/52nd 93 88 UK, 4 Belgium, 1 Canada 64th 19 All UK 65th 22 All UK 1st/66th 16 15 UK, 1 India

194 2nd/66th 9 8 France, 1 UK 1st/67th 64 All UK 68th 23 All UK 1st/69th 17 All UK 2nd 69th 85 81 UK, 4 France 70th 174 141 UK, 29 Canada, 14 France 1st/71st 24 13 UK, 11 Peninsula 2nd/71st 117 All UK 1st/72nd 11 UK 2nd/72nd 1 UK 1st/73rd 32 25 UK, 7 Van Dieman’s Land 2nd/73rd 131 All UK 74th 79 74 UK, 4 France, 1 Spain3

75th 15 All UK 76th 22 21 UK, 1 Spain 77th 37 35 UK, 2 Portugal 1st/78th 12 All UK 2nd/78th 9 8 UK, 1 Canada 1st/79th 17 10 Peninsula, 7 UK 2nd/79th 82 All UK 80th 24 All UK 1st/81st 83 68 Canada, 12 UK, 3 Spain 2nd/81st 15 All UK 1st/82nd 15 13 UK, 2 Spain 2nd/82nd 5 All UK 1st/83rd 50 All UK 2nd/83rd 30 20 UK, 7 Spain, 3 France 1st/84th 65 All UK 2nd/84th 16 All UK 85th 85 All UK 86th 98 All UK 1st/87th 64 61 UK, 2 Spain, 1 France 2nd/87th 34 32 UK, 2 France 1st/88th 0 deserters (1814-15)4 0

3 Desertion could take place for entirely idiosyncratic reasons. A veteran of the 74th Highlanders recalled that a piper named Donald attempted to desert to the French during the Battle of Vitoria. His motive was self-preservation; he’d been arrested for a second time for counterfeiting Spanish coins (“the best hand at making doubloons ever ye saw”) and “kenned, he would be shot” for it. Thus when his guards ( who ‘didna like bein’ oot o’t’) left him to join the battle-line he made a dash for the French position. The French shot him dead before he could explain his intentions. Greenhill Gardyne. “A Crack with an Old 74th Man. Highland Light Infantry Chronicle. 1904. 148.

195 2nd/88th 37 All UK 1st/89th 34 22 UK, 8 France, 4 Canada 2nd/89th 49 28 Canada, 21 UK 1st/90th 58 51 Canada, 4 UK, 3 West Indies 2nd/90th 0 0 1st/91st 72 65 UK, 7 Spain 2nd/91st 86 All UK 1st/92nd 14 8 UK, 6 Peninsula 2nd/92nd 57 56 UK, 1 France 97th 3 All UK 98th 55 38 UK, 17 Canada 99th 33 22 Canada, 11 UK 100th 30 20 Canada, 10 UK 102nd 121 86 Canada, 26 UK, 9 Bermuda 103rd 129 102 Canada, 27 UK 1st Life Guards 13 All UK 2nd Life Guards 14 All UK Horse Guards 13 All UK 1st Dragoon Guards 4 All UK 2nd Dragoon Guards 43 All UK 4th Dragoon Guards 19 All UK 5th Dragoon Guards 27 All UK 6th Dragoon Guards 24 All UK 7th Dragoon Guards 22 All UK 1st Dragoons 18 17 UK, 1 France 2nd Dragoons 36 All UK 3rd Dragoons 33 All UK 4th Dragoons 9 8 UK, 1 Spain 6th Dragoons 6 All UK 7th Light Dragoons 48 47 UK, 1 Spain 8th Light Dragoons 9 All UK 9th Light Dragoons 94 93 UK, 1 Peninsula 10th Light Dragoons 67 63 UK, 4 France 11th Light Dragoons 56 All UK 14th Light Dragoons 57 All UK

4 The 88th served in Quebec for several months at the tail end of the War of 1812. Their spotless record received an encomium from their Brigadier, Thomas Brisbane, at the end of their tour: (the Brigadier) cannot refrain from expressing how much, and how sincerely, he regrets losing a regiment…which has conducted itself so creditably since its arrival in this country…the circumstance of the regiment never having lost a man by desertion is highly honorable to it, and can never be forgotten. Brisbane also spared the 88th from ‘witnessing theexecution of a General Court-Martial on several deserters’ an exception made for none of his other infantry battalions. .Richard Cannon. The Historical Recorts of the Eighty-Eight Regiment (London: 1858) 57-58.

196 15th Light Dragoons 40 39 UK, 1 Spain 16th Light Dragoons 35 All UK 18th Light Dragoons 69 62 UK, 7 Peninsula 19th Light Dragoons 46 32 Canada, 14 UK 20th Light Dragoons 38 26 UK, 12 Sicily TOTAL 6454 5196 UK (81%), 862 Canada (13%), 396 Other Stations (6%)

Geographical distribution of incidents of desertion 1815-1819: Regiments Number of Desertions Geographical Distribution 1st/1st 56 All UK 3rd/1st 20 All France 2nd 64 46 UK, 18 West Indies5

3rd 27 17 UK, 10 France 1st/5th 16 All UK 1st/7th 123 65 France, 58 UK 1st/8th 33 All UK 10th 10 5 Corfu, 2 UK, 2 Sicily, 1 Malta 11th 6 4 UK, 2 Gibraltar 1st/12th 39 34 UK, 4 Mauritius, 1 Isle d’Bourbon 2nd/12th 32 29 UK, 3 France 22nd 19 16 UK, 2 India, 1 South Africa 25th 67 All UK 26th 46 36 Gibraltar, 10 UK 1st/27th 16 13 France, 3 UK 3rd/27th 25 23 France, 2 UK 34th 71 All UK 1st/40th 92 85 UK, 7 Belgium 2nd/40th 37 All UK 41st 9 8 UK, 1 France 42nd 69 All UK 44th 5 All UK 48th 18 All UK 55th 255 All UK 56th 30 All UK 1st/60th 33 20 South Africa, 11 Canada,

5 All deserters in Barbados were from a detachment of convicts sent out from Pentonville Gaol, Isle of Wight in April 1816. They escaped in June of that year.

197 2 UK 2nd/60th 92 71 Canada, 21 West Indies 3rd/60th 40 26 Canada, 14 West Indies 62nd 12 9 Canada, 3 UK 64th 101 84 UK, 17 Gibraltar 65th 48 46 UK, 2 India 70th 156 129 Canada, 27 UK 71st 37 All UK 72nd 2 All UK 74th 47 32 Canada, 15 UK 76th 124 94 Canada, 32 UK 78th 17 All UK 84th 10 All UK 85th 224 All UK 86th 11 All UK 1st/87th 22 All UK 2nd/87th 51 All UK 88th 22 15 UK, 7 France 91st 21 All UK 92nd 38 All UK 93rd 3 All UK 1st/95th 85 82 UK, 3 France 2nd/95th 69 All UK 3rd/95th 19 All UK 97th 200 All UK 98th 94 90 Canada, 4 UK 99th 44 43 Canada, 1 UK European Regiments of the 228 All UK Honourable East India Company TOTALS 3065 2252 UK (73%), 505 Canada ( 16%), 308 Other Stations (11%)

198

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208 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH

Steven Schwamenfeld was born in New York City. He received his High school diploma from the Bronx High School of Science. He received his Batchelor’s and Master’s degrees from Binghamton University. He taught History at Florida Southern College in 2005. He is currently a professor of History at Indiana University of Pennsylvania.

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