Chapter X

Curious Modes of Recruiting in the "Good Old Days"--Pig
Killing--The Late Duke of Kent--Examples of Brevity--Act of
Self-devotion--The Piper of the 74th Highlanders at
Badajoz--It is better to Leave "Well" Alone--Hard up! Hard
Up!--Remarkable Wounds and Hairbreadth Escapes--Introduction
of Bayonets into our Army, and the Use our People have made
of them since 1672, up to the late go-in in Egypt, at
Tel-el-Kebir--Desperate Defence of Colours--Heroic Stands by
Small Armies against overwhelming Odds--The 52nd
Regiment--The Old Suffolk Regiments, second to none--England
not a Military Nation?

RECRUITING IN THE "GOOD OLD DAYS."

When Queen Elizabeth resolved to assist Henry IV., of France, in raising the siege of Calais, besieged in 1596 by the Spaniards, under Cardinal Albert, Archduke of Austria, she commanded some levies to be raised in England for this purpose, and the Lord Mayor and Aldermen of London having received a message from the Court commanding them to raise 1,000 men immediately for the relief of Calais, proceeded on Easter Sunday, 1596, to the several Churches, with their constables, fastened all the doors, and selected from the congregation the number of men required; they were immediately equipped and sent to Dover, and from thence to France. So much for the good old days of Queen Bess!

An Act was passed during the early part of Queen Anne's reign, authorising Justices of the Peace to apprehend all such persons as had no apparent means of subsistence, and deliver them to the military, on being paid the levy-money allowed for passing recruits. This remarkable Act was revived by George II.

The following is extracted from _Loyd's Evening Post_, published in 1759, and it shows how crime might be condoned by entering the army:--

"_Norwich, 4th August._--On Thursday last was committed to the Castle by R. Brown, Esq., John Ludkins or Adkins, being charged on oath of Elizabeth, the wife of W. Williams, victualler of Weybourn, in Norfolk, with robbing her of 30s. He was committed a few weeks since to the City gaol, for defrauding Mr. Thurby of £10, but made his escape out of prison. He was afterwards re-taken, and on condition that he enlisted for a soldier, which he accordingly did, prosecution against him was to stop. He enlisted into the 56th Foot, and afterwards deserted." We are happy to know that such good-for-nothing scamps would not now be admitted into our service.

PIG KILLING.

Officers and men, during the Peninsular War, had a good eye for young pork, and were not at all particular about knocking over a young grunter. Complaints were brought to the late Duke of Wellington, but His Grace's larder not being short, and not having much compassion for those that were marching night and day, often with nothing to eat, he issued the following Order:--

"G.O. No. 1. Officers and Soldiers are again positively
prohibited from pig-shooting. Anyone found disobeying this
Order shall be shot."

A far different kind of pig-killing is narrated in the following truthful incident, which occurred during the War of American Independence, in 1779. This war in America was rather a species of hunting than a regular campaign. Washington understood it, for he told his men frequently that if they fought with Art they would be sure to be defeated, for they had no discipline and no uniformity. The Americans had incorporated Indians into their ranks, who were very useful to them; they sallied out of their impenetrable forests or jungles, and, with their arrows and tomahawks, committed daily waste on the British. A Regiment of Foot was at this time stationed on the border of a vast forest, and its particular duty was to guard every avenue of approach to the main body. Sentinels were posted pretty thick to keep a sharp look-out upon the different outlets. But these sentinels were continually being surprised upon their posts and borne off, without communicating any alarm to the next sentinel or being heard of after. Not a trace was left as to how they had disappeared; though on one or two occasions a few drops of blood had appeared upon the leaves. Many imputed this unaccountable disappearance to treachery, others to desertion, but it was a mystery to all.

One morning, after they had taken extra precautions, they went to relieve the post, and found both sentinels gone; the surprise was great; they left another man and departed, wishing him better luck. "You need not be afraid," said the good man, "I shall not desert." In due course the relief returned, and, to their astonishment, this man was also gone; they searched round the spot, but no traces could be found. It was necessary that the post should be held, and they left another double sentry, and when they came to relieve them, behold, they were both gone. The superstition of the men was awakened; brave men had been lost whose courage and honesty had never been suspected, and the poor fellows whose turn next came to take the post trembled from head to foot. "I know I must do my duty," one said to his officer, "but I should like to lose my life with more credit." A man immediately stepped from the ranks and desired to take the post. Every one commended his resolution. "I will not be taken alive," said he, "and you shall hear of me on the least alarm; at all events, I will fire my piece if I hear the least noise; you may be alarmed when nothing is the matter, but you must take your chance about that." The Colonel applauded his courage, and told him he would be quite right to fire. His comrades shook hands with him and then marched back to the guard house. An hour had elapsed, and no discharge of musket, when, upon a sudden, the report was heard. The Guard immediately (accompanied by the Colonel) advanced. As they approached the post, they saw the man advancing towards them, dragging another man by the hair of his head. An explanation was required. "I told your honour," said the man, "that I should fire, if I heard the least noise." I had not been long on my post, when I heard a rustling at some short distance; I looked and saw an American hog, such as are common in the woods, crawling along the ground, and seemingly looking for nuts under the trees. As these animals are so common, I ceased to consider it for some time, but being in constant alarm I kept my eye upon it, and it gradually kept getting closer to my post. My comrades, thought I, will laugh at me for shooting a pig. I had almost made up my mind to let it alone, just then I observed it give an unusual spring; I no longer hesitated, but took my aim and discharged my piece, and the animal was stretched before me with a groan, which I knew at once to be that of a human creature. I went up to it, and, to my astonishment, found I had killed an Indian. He had enveloped himself in the skin of one of these wild hogs, his hands and feet being entirely concealed in it. He was armed with a dagger and tomahawk. The other animals disappeared as fast as possible, for there were a number of them all around me. We could now account for our sentinels disappearing; the Indians must have got close up to the men, and, at an unguarded moment, sprung upon them, stabbed or scalped them, and borne their bodies away. The Americans, we learnt, gave them a reward for every scalp of a Britisher.

H.R.H. THE LATE DUKE OF KENT LEADING STORMERS AT MARTINIQUE.

It was a Brigade of Grenadiers, composed of the following Regiments, 7th R.F., 8th, 13th, 15th, 23rd, 25th, and Flank Companies of the 60th, 63rd, and 90th Regiments, that Her Most Gracious Majesty's father, then Duke of Kent, when about to storm Martinique, placed himself in front of and thus addressed--"Grenadiers, this is St. Patrick's Day, the English will do their duty in compliment to the Irish, and the Irish in compliment to the Saint--forward Grenadiers." The Duke's aides-de-camp both fell in the storm, and so did Martinique; and for many years, the capture of Martinique was commemorated by a dinner at the United Service Club, on each succeeding St. Patrick's Day.

EXAMPLES OF BREVITY.

General Sir R. Boyd was remarkable for the brevity of his despatches. Whilst Governor of Gibraltar, he wrote an order to his Agent, Mr. Browne, in England, for his own private stores in three words, namely--"Browne, beef, Boyd," and the reply which accompanied the stores, was equally good--"Boyd, beef, Browne."

Sir C. Napier, the conqueror of Scinde, sent the following despatch home to Government, "I have Scinde;" he was requested to hold his own, but to "sin" no more.

ACT OF SELF-DEVOTION.

During the War with America, in 1781, Corporal O'Lavery, of the 17th Light Dragoons, was sent with the bearer of a despatch to Lord Rawdon. On their way they were attacked and both severely wounded. The bearer died on the road, and the corporal, taking the paper, rode on until he fell from his horse from loss of blood. In order to conceal the important secret contained in the despatch, should he be taken by the enemy, he thrust the paper into his wound, which, although not mortal in itself, proved so by this act. When found on the following day, sufficient life was left in him to point to the fatal depository of the secret. He was a native of the county Down, where a monument records his fame, and the gratitude of his commander, Lord Rawdon:--

Nor shall the men of humble lot,
Brave O'Lavery and Smith, be forgot.
In life and death to honour just,
Neither resigned their sacred trust.
Such bright examples should be told,
Of hearts of more than mortal mould,
The youth in rank and martial station,
They form the bulwark of the nation.

BADAJOZ AND THE PIPER OF THE 74TH.

At the Siege of Badajoz, in April, 1812, when the final attack was made on the night of the 6th April, amongst the foremost in the escalade was John McLauchlan, the Piper of the 74th, who, the instant he mounted the Castle wall, began playing the regimental quick step, "The Campbells are coming," at the head of the advance along the ramparts, as coolly as if he was on parade, until his music was stopped by a shot through the bag of his pipes. He was afterwards seen seated on a gun carriage, quietly repairing the damage, perfectly unconcerned about the shots flying around him, and presently recommenced his animating tune. The poor piper was afterwards cut in two by a cannon shot at the battle of Vittoria, 21st June in the following year, whilst playing his charming music in rear of the colours of his Regiment.

IT'S BETTER TO LEAVE "WELL" ALONE.

The Governor of Gibraltar, during the siege by the French and Spanish in 1781, was surprised to see certain of the soldiers constantly intoxicated, although the sale of spirituous liquors was strictly prohibited. It was at length remarked that the men were desirous to obtain water from one particular well in the Medical garden, and considering that there must be a reason for the preference, it was resolved to examine it, when the water was found to be strongly impregnated with rum. This circumstance was accounted for by the fact that the Governor had received a quantity of rum, and for its greater security, and to keep it from the knowledge of the soldiers, had it buried near the well mentioned, close to which a shell had exploded; this, tearing up the earth, and bursting the casks, caused the spirit to flow into the well. Another amusing anecdote of a well has been preserved. During the Peninsular war, certain officers at the Mess table were observed to decline the soup, which made the General at the head of the table anxious to ascertain the cause, whereupon it was mentioned that a French soldier had been discovered that morning in the well from which the water had been obtained, in a state of decomposition. This did not spoil the General's appetite, for it is said that he immediately asked for another basin of soup, at the same time remarking that "it would have been much better, and taste the sweeter, if the whole French army, with Napoleon, had been in it."

"HARD UP, HARD UP, THE DAYS WHEN WE WERE HARD UP."

During one part of the Peninsular war our people were so hard up for shot that they had to, and did, collect all the French shot that was fired at us, and thus paid the enemy back in their own coin. A letter from the Duke of Wellington to some of his friends at home thus referred to it:--

Camp, Villa Fremosa, 11th May 1811.

"You at home will hardly believe that we are so hard up for
shot that we are compelled to pick up the enemy's shot in
our camp to supply our guns with."

My readers, perhaps, are not aware, that this practice was resumed during the siege of Sebastopol; as will be seen by the following General Order issued by Lord Raglan, 24th October, 1854:--

Camp before Sevastopol, 24th October, 1854.

The Commander-in-Chief is pleased to authorise the payment
of four pence for each small shot, and sixpence for each
large one, which may be brought into the Camp of
Lieut.-Colonel Gambier, Royal Artillery, near the Light
Division, by any soldier or seaman.

A number of our men might be seen, from morning until night, bringing them in, and making a very good harvest, for they were plentiful all around the town, particularly in rear of our 21-gun battery. This order did not last long enough, for on the 4th November, 1854, it was cancelled as follows:--

General Order No. 1, of the 24th October, authorising
payment for shot delivered at the Camp of the Right Siege
Train, is cancelled.

Therefore, it was not only food and clothing we were hard up for, but we had actually no shot to use, and if the enemy had known it we should have had to use the bayonet to defend our batteries with, though I believe we should have managed to hold our own: but fancy the surprise of the enemy when they found their own shot going back to them.

This was repeated in front of Delhi, in 1857; but the men in this instance got grog for every shot they fetched, and we may rest assured they got as many as they could.

REMARKABLE WOUNDS AND HAIR-BREADTH ESCAPES.

King William III had some remarkable escapes, for it is stated that at the battle of Loddon, he was narrowly missed by three musket shots; one passed through his periwig, and made him deaf for some time, another through the sleeve of his coat, doing no harm, the third carried off the knot of his scarf, and left a contusion on his side.

King Charles XII of Sweden, though repeatedly signalising himself in famous battles, received no wound, but one evening, after fighting a terrible battle against the Russians, as he was changing his dress, he found a ball lodged in his black cravat, while another had passed through his hat, and a third had broken his watch and remained in his pocket at his left breast.

Lieut.-General Carpenter and the division under General Stanhope were taken prisoners by the French and Spanish forces at the battle of Brihuega, in the mountains of Castile, 7th December, 1710. On this occasion General Carpenter was wounded by a musket ball, which broke part of his jaw, and lodged under the root of his tongue, where it remained several months before it could be extracted, and the pain, it is needless to add, was very great, but he survived this remarkable wound twenty-one years. He died on the 10th February, 1732, aged 75.

Captain Murray, of the 42nd Highlanders, was wounded at the battle of Martinique in 1762, by a musket ball, which entered his left side, under the lower rib, passed up through the left lobe of the lungs (as was ascertained after his death), crossed his chest and, mounting up to his right shoulder, lodged under the scapula. His case being considered desperate, the only object of the Surgeons in attendance was to make his situation as easy as possible for the few hours they supposed he had to live, but, to the great surprise of all around, he was on his legs in a few weeks, and before he reached England was quite recovered--at least his health and appetite were restored. He was, however, never afterwards able to lie down, and during the 32 years of his subsequent life, slept in an upright posture, supported in his bed by pillows. He died in 1794, a Lieut.-General and Colonel of the 72nd Regiment.

The following will prove that while there is life there is hope:--At the siege of Gibraltar by the French and Spanish, during one of the attacks, a shell came through one of the embrasures and killed a number of the 73rd (the present 71st), and wounded others of the same corps. The case of one of the wounded was desperate, and it will serve to enforce the maxim that, even in the most dangerous cases, we should not despair of recovery whilst life remains. Pte. Pat Murphy was knocked down by the wind of the shell, which, instantly bursting, killed and wounded all around, and mangled him in a most dreadful manner. His head was terribly fractured, his left arm broken in two places, one of his legs shattered, the skin and muscles torn off part of his right hand, the middle finger broken to pieces, and his whole body most severely bruised and marked with gunpowder. He presented so horrid an object to the Surgeons that they had not the smallest hope of saving his life, and were at a loss what part to attend to first. He was that evening trepanned, a few days afterwards his leg was amputated, and other wounds and fractures dressed. Being possessed of a most excellent constitution, nature performed wonders in his favour, and in eleven weeks his cure was completely effected, and he long continued to enjoy a pension of nine-pence per diem. These were the good old days.

W. Masters, Esq., who died in March, 1799, was a Colonel under the Duke of Cumberland, and in one of the engagements was shot through the lungs by a musket ball, which entirely cured him of a violent asthma. The Duke used to say, when any of his friends laboured under that disorder, that they must get shot through the lungs, like Masters.

Samuel Evans, a private in the 2nd Foot, was carried off amongst the wounded at Corunna. He arrived in England, and died in the Military Hospital, Plymouth, on the 30th January, 1809. On a _post mortem_ examination being made, it was discovered that he had been shot through the _heart_, and yet had survived for sixteen days. His heart is preserved to this day in the museum of the above-named hospital. Some soldiers are as tough as old leather.

Sir Charles Napier's life is one justifying Lord Byron's remark, that truth is stranger than fiction. In infancy he was snatched, when at the last stage of starvation, from a vile nurse. When a boy, attempting a dangerous leap, he tore the flesh from his leg in a frightful manner. A few years later he fractured the other leg. At the battle of Corunna he received five terrible wounds, and, but for the aid of a generous French drummer, would have been killed. He was made a prisoner, and, his fate being long unknown, was mourned as dead by his family. In the battle of Busaco a bullet struck his face and lodged behind the ear, splintering the jaw bone; yet, with this dreadful hurt, he made his way, under a fierce sun, to Lisbon, more than 100 miles. Returning from France after the battle of Waterloo, the ship in which he was, sunk off Flushing, and he only saved himself by swimming to a pile, on which he clung until a boat carried him off, half drowned. He escaped cholera, and a second shipwreck, off the Indus. At Kurrachee, 13th September, 1842, he was observing the practice of a rocket battery, when one of the missiles burst, rocket and shell together, and tore the calf of his right leg open to the bone. The wound was at once stitched up, and in a short time he was able to set firmly on horse back, and then conducted a dangerous war to a glorious termination. This gentleman was the brother of the late Lieut.-General Sir William Napier, the author of "The Peninsular War."

* * * * *

Perhaps one of the most singular wounds, ever received without causing immediate death was the following:--Lieutenant French, of the 38th Foot, on the 18th June, 1855, at the attack on the Redan, received a gunshot wound in the upper portion of the left shoulder, which penetrated the chest, and resulted in compression of the left lung, _and the removal of the heart from the left to the right side_. He recovered, but his left arm was powerless, and his general health very delicate. He died on the 9th Dec., 1857.

Major Sir Thomas Troubridge, Bart., of the 7th Royal Fusiliers, while commanding a battery at the battle of Inkermann, 5th November, 1854, was desperately wounded by a 42-pounder, and would not allow himself to be removed, but remained at his post doing all he could to animate his Fusiliers to acts of valour. Both his feet were carried away. The same shot did a lot of damage. It carried away the calf of Captain Owen's leg, and knocked over four or five men. After the action was over, Sir T. Troubridge was attended to, one of his feet was amputated, also the other leg just below the knee. This gallant old Fusilier recovered, and strangers would scarcely know that he had been so severely wounded. I was close to him when he fell. He died a few years ago, Assistant Quartermaster-General to the British Army, Clothing Department. He had two cork feet made, and could walk well with the aid of a stick. Capt. Owen, of the 33rd, died from the effects of his wound, having suffered severely for many years, the wound never having healed.

The following remarkable wound was received by a private of the 14th Regiment during the siege of Sebastopol:--On the morning of the 25th July, 1855, Private Francis O'Brien, a lad of eighteen years, was brought from the trenches, with a wound from a musket ball in the right temple. Surgeon De Lisle attended the case; the ball entered two inches above the orbit, passed downwards and drove out a large portion of the spina-orbital ridge, which appeared to be embedded in the upper eyelid, and was cut down upon by the medical officer in the trenches, in mistake for the ball, which it certainly very much resembled. As no ball could be found, it was supposed to have passed out at the opening of entrance. The finger, when passed into the wound, could feel the pulsation of the brain, yet from that day to the present, or for years after, no symptoms of cerebral disturbance appeared, unless it be that since his convalescence, the muscles of the face work convulsively when he feels faint and weak, from remaining too long in an erect posture. About a month after admission to Hospital the detached portion of the bone above the orbit was removed from the eyelid, though with considerable difficulty, and on the following morning the ball fell from the wound, much to the poor lad's horror, for he thought his eye had dropped out. Both wounds have now been healed, but he is unable to raise the right eyelid; the eye is perfect, but apparently without power of vision, though sensible to the light, for on turning the wounded side to the light the left pupil contracts. His general health is good.

A comrade of my own, Corporal Spence, of the Royal Fusiliers, received a wound from a musket ball at the Alma in the right cheek, but took no notice of it; thought it must have been a piece of stone; did not report himself either wounded or sick. About 30 days afterwards he complained of a stiff neck, but would not give in; day after day went on, it kept getting worse and worse every day, until at last he could not move his head, and a large lump was visible on the left side of his neck, about two and a half inches from the ear. We all thought that it was a blind boil, and so did the Corporal, and as he was for the trenches that evening, and not one of those who would give in at trifles, he said he would go to Hospital and get his boil lanced, and take up his duty in the evening. He accordingly went to Hospital; Dr. Hale, V.C., examined the boil, and applied the lance, and out came his friend from the Alma--about an ounce of lead. It had worked round from the right cheek to the left ear. The Corporal at once returned to his duty, and went through the remainder of the campaign. He wore this little messenger on his watch chain. He was for some years a Corporal-Major in the Oxford Blues, and, as far as I know, is alive now.

The following instance of suspended animation, in the case of Sergeant Bubb, of the 28th Regiment, is, perhaps, one of the most remarkable in the annals of the Humane Society. Mr. W. H. Crowfoot, Surgeon, of Beccles, was called professionally to Kessingland, on the 17th December, 1805, and met by accident a cart containing, as he was told, the dead body of a soldier. The history of the supposed dead man was briefly this:--The previous day, about eleven o'clock, after suffering shipwreck with a part of the 28th Foot, he sank into a state of insensibility upon the deck, where he remained during the night, and was said to have perished through the inclemency of the weather. He was brought on shore between 11 and 12 o'clock next day, and was left on the beach for some two hours, under the conviction that he was dead. Mr. Crowfoot desired to examine the body, and perceiving some warmth about the heart, he resolved to use his endeavours to restore the poor man. To the astonishment of all present, he very fortunately succeeded, after three hours' unwearied application of the means usually employed on such occasions.

The battle of Albuera, 16th May, 1811, is acknowledged by those who are competent to judge, to have been one of the most desperate battles ever fought between man and man. It was on this field that the 57th gained the name they are now known by, "the die-hards." Their Colonel called out, in the thick of the fight, "57th, let us die hard." They marched into action 580 strong, and by 2 p.m. 22 officers and 430 men were killed or wounded. Ensign Jackson carried the King's colours, and thirty bullets passed through it. Nine balls passed through this officer's clothes, and he received five wounds, one quite through his chest, but lived upwards of forty years after.

The noble deeds of our forefathers, on the field of Albuera, will be found in another part of this book under the head of desperate deeds.

I could greatly extend this list, but believe that sufficient has been narrated to interest and excite the reader.