II. THE PENINSULA, 1832-1837.
Dynastic quarrel in Portugal—Foreign legion—Mr Alcock enters the service, 1832—Character of the force and its leaders—Colonel Shaw—Incidents of the campaign—Important medical services of Mr Alcock—Joins the Spanish Foreign Legion, 1836—Termination of the campaign.
There were troubles in Portugal. The usurper Dom Miguel was on the throne. It was proposed to seat the rightful sovereign, Donna Maria, there—her father, Dom Pedro, ex-Emperor of Brazil, who assumed the title of Duke of Braganza, heading the movement.
Sympathy was excited in France and England, in both of which countries irregular forces were levied to co-operate with the constitutional party in Portugal led by his imperial majesty. It was a kind of service which tempted alike young bloods and old soldiers who had been languishing in peace and idleness since 1815, and a small army of "Liberators" was got together in England, with a corresponding naval force.
It has been mentioned that young Alcock had studied under the eminent army surgeon Guthrie. Feelings of regard had sprung up between the two which extended far beyond the professional sphere. Not only had the boy been a favourite pupil whose aptitude reflected credit on his teacher, but it is quite evident that a personal affection which lasted their respective lifetimes was rekindled during the years they subsequently spent together in Westminster. When, therefore, Mr Guthrie was applied to by Mr O'Meara, who had been in attendance on Napoleon at St Helena, to recommend a surgeon for the British-Portuguese force, Guthrie sent at once for Alcock and discussed with him his professional prospects. The upshot was that as, considering his youth,—he was then only twenty-two,—it was useless for him to think of beginning practice in London, a few years might be most advantageously passed in military service abroad. The young man was only too eager to close with the offer then made to him, which not only afforded the prospect of active professional work, but seemed to open the way for adventures such as the soul of a young man loveth. Within twenty-four hours of accepting the offer Alcock was on the way to Portsmouth and the Azores. For some time after his arrival there he did duty on board ship. His ambition being cramped by this restricted service, however, he was anxious to be transferred to the military force. He accordingly applied to Colonel Hodges, who commanded the marine battalion, to be taken on his staff. The colonel looked at him with some hesitation owing to his extremely youthful appearance, but on hearing that he had been specially recommended by Guthrie, said, "Oh, that is a different matter; come along."
Of the Peninsular expeditions of 1832-37 the interest for the present generation lies less in their origin, aims, and results, than in their conduct and incidents. They were episodes which have left no marks on the general course of history visible to the ordinary observer, and are memorable chiefly for their dramatic effects, the play of character, the exhibitions of personal courage, capacity, and devotion; of jealousy, intrigue, and incapacity; of love and hate; and of the lights and shadows that flit across the theatre of human life. Interferences in other people's quarrels naturally bring to the surface all the incongruities. The auxiliaries are sure to be thought arrogant whether they are really so or not, and the protégés are no less certain to be deemed ungrateful. Each party is apt to underestimate the exploits of the other and to exaggerate his own. They take widely different views of the conditions under which their respective services are rendered; they misconstrue each other's motives, assessing them at their lowest apparent value. Each side looks for certain sentimental acknowledgments from the other, while daily frictions and inevitable misunderstandings continually embitter the disappointment felt at their absence. And there are not two parties, but many. There are wheels within wheels; sections playing on each other tricks which savour of treachery on the one side, while on the other side there may be sulks which are constructive mutiny. The question of pay is naturally a constant source of bitterness, for countries that need foreign assistance are impecunious and dilatory. Few of them would be entitled to the certificate which Dugald Dalgetty gave to his excellent paymasters, the Dutch. Yet in spite of drawbacks, there is a kind of method in the whole business, a movement towards a goal, though at a maximum of cost, with the greatest waste and the most poignant regrets over mismanagement.
But what in these irregular campaigns is so remarkable as to be almost repugnant to common reason is the devotion of the mercenary soldier. This inspiriting sentiment, which springs up spontaneously like a wild-flower in desert places, seems to put patriotism in the shade as a motive for sacrifice. The hired soldier, though an alien, is often indeed more faithful than the son of the soil, perhaps for the reason that his allegiance is of a simpler nature, more categorical and explicit. The direct personal character of such alien allegiance and its transferability are exemplified in the lives of soldiers of fortune in general: never better, perhaps, than in the wild and dangerous career of Alexander Gardner, colonel of artillery in the service of Maharaja Ranjit Singh, whose Memoirs have been recently edited by Major Hugh Pearse. Is it the fighting instinct, hereditary heroism, or military discipline that makes the soldier? Is it the cause that inspires him, or is it only devotion to his immediate leader? Explain it how we may, the British Legion both in Portugal and in Spain maintained the character of their race for pluck and tenacity as well as if they had been fighting for their own king and country. And this is rendered still more remarkable when the promiscuous manner of their muster is considered. Clandestine engagements in the slums of Soho, under the guise of labour or emigrant contracts, in evasion of the Foreign Enlistment Acts; surreptitious journeys, as "hop-pickers," to Gravesend; secret embarkations under cover of night; and the disciplining of a mob composed of the dregs of the streets, afford subject of some graphic and humorous descriptions on the part of the officers concerned in raising the squad and licking them into shape. It must have required a very sanguine faith in the radical qualities of the stock for any officer of repute to consent to "march through Coventry" with such a herd of scalliwags.
The officer who seems to have had a principal share in collecting these raw levies, and distinguished himself in both campaigns in the Peninsula, in which he bore a leading part, has left us some racy descriptions of the force and its experiences in the field. Sir Charles Shaw was himself a typical soldier by nature and by practice. Circumstances alone would determine whether it should be as a soldier of fortune, a patriot defending hearths and homes, or as an Ishmaelite adventurer, that his sword would be unsheathed. The sporting and adventurous instinct scents danger afar, like the war-horse in the book of Job which laughs at the spears. The manner in which he came to embrace the profession of arms was itself so characteristic as to deserve mention.
As a youth he was passionately devoted to sport, and when that momentous question the choice of a profession came up for consideration, sport decided it in favour of law, for the somewhat original reason that the young gentleman had observed that lawyers seemed to enjoy the longest holidays! He had begun his studies, and was on his way to St Andrews to enter on a new course when an incident occurred which diverted the current of his thoughts. He met a batch of French prisoners of war being removed from one garrison to another, whose misery affected him so much that he was instantly seized with the idea of becoming a soldier. The particular form in which the inspiration took him was that he put himself in the position of one of these prisoners and imagined himself the hero of his own and his comrades' deliverance.
His studies at St Andrews, perturbed by the new passion, made indifferent progress. The historic golf-links afforded some relief, acting as a kind of neutral soothing medium between antagonistic aspirations. But the final solution of his troubles came from a famous piece of water which is there, called the Witches' Pond. The virtue of this water was great in the barbaric age when the curse of witchcraft lay heavy on the land. The suspected person was thrown into the water. If she floated, her guilt was proven and she was incontinently burned; if she sank, it proved the high specific gravity of flesh and bone. Happy thought! The young man would subject his life's destiny to this convenient ordeal. He would jump into the pond, and either sink as a lawyer or emerge as a soldier!
After this original form of baptism, initiation into the mysteries soon followed, and the young soldier saw much active service during the Napoleonic wars in the Peninsula and in the Low Countries. He missed Waterloo through being on other duty, and in the piping times of peace which followed that decisive battle an idyllic life at Richmond seemed to bound the horizon of his unsatisfied ambition for some fifteen years. From a totally unexpected quarter the call to arms reached him in his retreat, and suddenly roused all his sleeping energies. The offer of a commission in the service of the young Queen of Portugal met with an eager response, and Shaw entered heart and soul into the service of Donna Maria.
As well as being an active soldier, Major Shaw was a lively correspondent, and it is from his letters to his family that we get the most brilliant flash-lights on the incidents of his military career generally, and more particularly on that exciting portion of it which most concerns the subject of these volumes. These letters were edited and published by himself at the close of the operations in Spain.
Colonel Hodges, who commanded the foreign brigade in Portugal, and seems to have left the queen's service in a huff, also published a narrative of the campaign, of which, however, the historical value is not enhanced by its apologetic and explanatory motive.
From the contemporary notes of these two officers we get generous and emphatic testimony to the manner in which Mr Alcock acquitted himself under the ordeal of severe military service. Indeed his comrades and commanding officers, first in Portugal and afterwards in Spain, seem to have vied with each other in spontaneous eulogy of the conduct of the young surgeon, none of them more flattering than General De Lacy Evans, who commanded in Spain. It is the record of a hero and a philanthropist, of high military ardour subordinated to still higher duty both to the cause he was serving and to the comrades whose lives were under his care. The valour of a non-combatant makes no less a demand on the virile stamina than the valour of the soldier,—oftentimes indeed more, since he lacks the stimulus of active conflict and confronts danger passive and unarmed. A few extracts from these really remarkable testimonials may still be read with pleasure after the lapse of sixty years.
Shaw writes to his family:—
A peasant led the way (they wear no shoes and their feet are like hands). I took off my shoes, and after getting down about fifty yards, I looked up and saw a favourite soldier of mine close above me, and an intimate friend of Ramus, the assistant-surgeon Alcock (a nice young fellow), following. I ordered the soldier to halt; but his answer of, "I'll follow your honour to death, captain," made me silent. I tried military authority with young Alcock, as I saw he was much excited; but no, his professional services were, he thought, required, and follow he would. Every moment expecting he would roll down, I clasped my toes and fingers close to the precipice, that he might fall without sweeping me with him: such is selfish nature! Two or three times I determined to return, but the soldier's speech forced me on. We reached the bottom in about half an hour, and, believe me, I returned thanks.
I proceeded along the rocky beach, and there found poor Ramus lying on a rock, in a sleeping position, with all his clothes torn, and a dreadful gash in his head; his body all broken; but with an expression of countenance indicating he had suffered no pain. I was astonished to see him without his shoes; but in ascending a sharp rock I found them, with the marks where his heels had caught as he tumbled backwards head foremost. Finding that our descent had been useless, I told those who had come down that I would not allow them to risk their lives in ascending, and sent off a peasant to get a boat; but he failed both in this and in getting ropes to pull us up. Self again stepped in, and as senior I led the way—one great reason being that no one could tumble back on me! I reached the top—hands torn and feet bruised; and to my joy young Alcock made his appearance, but so faint that I was obliged to supply him liberally with my brandy.
The duty which now had to be performed by the medical men was of the most arduous character. The surgeon of the British battalion, Souper, carried away by the military spirit instilled into him by being an actor in the "Three Days of July," resigned his commission as surgeon, and on this day commenced and finished his military career, being killed at Hodges' side while carrying orders to the French battalion. His place was filled up by Mr Rutherford Alcock, who had the same love for "fire," but for a different object—that of being close at hand to give prompt assistance to any one who was wounded. Although young, Alcock was old in knowledge and experience: he was highly respected by all who knew him, and beloved by those who entered into action, as they felt assured that he thought not of his own safety when his services could be of benefit to them. In the most exposed situations I saw him this day, dressing officers and men with the same coolness as if he were in a London hospital; and I cannot refrain from expressing envy at the gratified feeling he must ever possess when he thinks of the number of human beings he has saved by his knowledge, experience, bravery, and activity, both at Oporto, Vittoria, and St Sebastian. But his trials after the fight of the 29th of September were great.
Owing to the fights of Pennafiel, Ponte Fereira, and the different affairs on the Lugar das Antas, the wards allotted to the British in the general hospitals were full; therefore, one may form some idea of the misery of the British when scattered among the different hospitals, speaking a language which was not understood. Measures were taken by Hodges and Alcock to gather the wounded foreigners together, but the Minister of War threw every impediment in the way of this; almost making one suspect, that now that the soldier had done his work and was useless, the sooner he died the better.
Truth compels me to state a fact I should wish to avoid, but it is right that those who are to be soldiers should know the value that is sometimes put upon their services. The words were made use of by Dom Pedro, but from what I have seen of him, I think others must have at the moment prompted him. The medical man was mentioning that it would be necessary to amputate the legs and arms of some of the British. "No, no," said Dom Pedro, "you British are fond of amputations, because your men are to have pensions, and that is expensive."
No application from myself as commanding the battalion; from Alcock, as senior medical officer; nor from Hodges, as the representative of the foreigners, had any effect on Augustinho José Freire: thus the poor fellows, crowded together, without beds, without nurses, without clothes, and even without medicines, died in numbers.
The references to Alcock's services are so frequent in these letters, so unconventional and spontaneous, as to prove the deep and lasting impression the young surgeon had made on his companions in arms. "I am glad for all your sakes to tell you that my wounds have healed in an extraordinary manner.... I consider myself greatly indebted to Alcock both for his skill and attention." And at the close of the Portuguese campaign: "I wonder if Alcock knows that he has got the decoration of the Tower and Sword? No man in the service deserves it more, both for bravery and kindness to the wounded." "The scarcity of medicines was dreadful; but with the active and willing assistance of Alcock, and the Portuguese medical gentlemen, it is quite wonderful what has been accomplished."
The bad condition of the hospitals at Oporto is the burden of many references in both Shaw's letters and Hodges' more formal narrative; and as the only records of the campaign from Alcock's own pen happen to be in official documents connected with the medical service, we give in extenso one of his despatches, showing in an inexperienced boy of twenty-three a maturity of judgment and a broad grasp of duty, with, what is perhaps more important, a mastery of work, that would not discredit a veteran.
Oporto, Sept. 20, 1832.
Sir,—The danger to which the patients were found to be exposed by the fire of the enemy caused their removal to a place of greater safety, where they might at least have nothing to fear from the enemy's shells. This change in the arrangements, however, has been in other respects extremely disadvantageous to the sick and wounded men. They are now crowded from the higher parts of the building into the corridors and ground-floors—a situation well known to be unfavourable to the recovery of sick men, from the air being so much less pure. Our own men, including the English sailors, have been placed in one ward, which, though of tolerably large dimensions, is very far from affording the necessary space and quantum of air required for forty-eight or fifty patients, which for some time has been the average—an average which we may rather expect to see increased than diminished during the approaching wet season. Moreover, from peculiar localities, it is quite impossible efficiently to ventilate the room, or to ensure a free circulation of air, which is as essential as any other means employed for the recovery of health.
It is under these circumstances that I feel not only authorised, but bound in duty, to draw your attention to the subject; assured that in any measures proposed for the benefit or wellbeing of the men under your command it is only necessary to show they are really required to meet your cordial support. Many difficulties, and many disadvantageous arrangements, have always attended the treatment of the patients in the present establishment; but these last compulsory changes, when added to the former state, place my patients in too dangerous a position to allow me to be silent or inactive. Situated as we are, I cannot promise the speedy recovery of any of the gunshot wounds, nor indeed of the sick generally, and their liability to any of the epidemics unfortunately so common in crowded hospitals renders me exceedingly anxious to have some steps taken to place them in a more favourable position.
The means I have to submit for your consideration and approval are, I believe and hope, extremely feasible. I desire to have some large dwelling-house appropriated for the reception of all English and French sick and wounded, by which means the General Hospital would be relieved of nearly a hundred patients, and of those, moreover, who, from the difference of language, are a fruitful and constant source of trouble and inconvenience—nay, more, of irregularity as prejudicial to the patients as it is discreditable to a military establishment of such importance. Many houses well adapted for this purpose might easily be mentioned, already at the disposal of the Government by the flight of the owners. One I could point out at this moment which, from a superficial inspection, I believe might be advantageously appropriated—a corner house in the Praça de St Ildefonso, adjoining the church.
The advantages which would accrue from this arrangement cannot for a moment be counterbalanced by the trouble or difficulty of first organising the separate establishment. The patients could then be classed and placed in different rooms, and not, as now, promiscuously crowded together—surgical and medical, fevers and amputations; by which arrangement their liability to any epidemic would be exceedingly diminished, while the patients would be more immediately under the eye and control of the medical attendants. Both surgeon and patient would thus be placed under more favourable circumstances, and the general service much facilitated by the removal of foreign troops from an establishment entirely Portuguese.
In glancing at the advantages, I should omit one of very great importance if I did not submit to you the facility it would afford for the good treatment of wounded and sick officers. Instead of being attended at their own quarters, often just within the first line, to their own great risk and the inconvenience of the surgeon, they would be removed to a place of safety, and where, moreover, from being entirely under medical command, their rank would procure them none of those injurious indulgences in the way of diet, &c., which even the wisest of us are apt to risk the enjoyment of when in our power. They might easily enjoy every necessary comfort, while they would be carefully guarded from all imprudent excess.
The chief difficulties I foresee, and which I have no doubt will immediately present themselves to your mind, appear to me very far from insurmountable. I require the assistance of no Portuguese officer whatever, except a commissary or purveyor, on whom I can fully depend, for the due and regular supply of fuel, meat, wine, fowls, and such other articles as are required for the good treatment of the patients, and which are daily supplied to the General Hospital. This is of the greatest importance, as any irregularity in this branch of the service would not only cripple my efforts, but be of serious injury to all under my care. In addition to this I should require one Portuguese domestic to every fifteen cases, for the purpose of cooking, washing the linen, keeping the wards clean, and such other menial duties as are independent of those appertaining to the orderlies. The expense of a separate establishment ought to be, and would be, of the most trifling kind. The same beds, trussels, and utensils, now exclusively appropriated to us, would be equally serviceable in any other hospital. Two or three boilers, and a few cooking utensils, with a slipper bath, are really the chief and most expensive things required. I may safely leave it to you, sir, to decide if this can cause any grievous outlay.
Should it be any convenience, or be deemed by you, sir, advantageous to the service, to the English and French might be added the wounded Portuguese soldiers of your brigade. I have little more to add, but should you require further detail, I beg to refer to a letter addressed to Major Shaw on this subject. I am fully conscious and aware of the labour I am entailing on myself, and that which is still more irksome, the heavy responsibility, but I have a duty to perform. I neither court the labour nor desire the responsibility; but if they come as a consequence of my efforts to do that duty I can look steadfastly on them, and I trust I have energy and perseverance enough to do all that depends upon me in spite of them. My most ardent wish is to prove myself worthy of the confidence you have honoured me with, and the trust conferred upon me.—I have the honour to be, sir, your obedient humble servant,
Rutherford Alcock.
To Colonel Hodges,
commanding Foreign Brigade, &c., &c.
As the campaign in defence of the Queen of Portugal closed, that in defence of the Queen Christina of Spain opened, and their rough experiences in the former did not deter either Colonel Shaw or Surgeon Alcock from accepting service in the Spanish Legion organised and commanded by De Lacy Evans. "On my arrival in London," writes Shaw in 1836, "you may suppose how delighted I was to find my friend Alcock at the head of the medical department, as his experiences in difficulties made him decidedly the most proper man." As it is no part of our plan to trace the operations, we give one characteristic letter from Colonel Shaw. It is dated San Sebastian, 2 o'clock, May 6, 1836:—
My dear Mother.—The steamer is detained, so I write to you once more. I and my brigade are so fatigued and cut up that we have been allowed to return here for the night. We had a terrible morning's work of it, the brigade having lost, in killed and wounded, about 400 men and 27 officers; others not so much. How I escaped I know not; kind Providence was my protector. My watch is smashed, the ball having cut through cloak, coat, trousers, drawers, and shirt, and only bruised me. A spent ball hit me on the chest, and my gaiter was cut across by another. We had dreadful lines to force: very steep, vomiting fire; and the clay up to our ankles made us so slow that they picked as they chose. The enemy not only behaved well behind their lines, but charged out, and twice or thrice put us for a moment in confusion. Alcock is slightly wounded.
And as an agreeable pendant to the severe strictures on the state of the Portuguese hospitals, the following may fitly close our extracts from these racy records of arduous military adventure:—
Bayonne, September, 1836.
When you land, introduce yourself to my friend Alcock, and beg him to take you through the hospitals. You will, or I am greatly mistaken, be agreeably surprised by the prevailing cleanliness and regularity, as also the care and attendance bestowed on the sick and wounded. Alcock has had a most difficult card to play. He knows well that there are many disabled poor fellows who, if they were in the British service, would be sent to England, certain of receiving their pensions; but he is also aware that a poor fellow sent to England from the service of Queen Christina, instead of receiving his pension, is generally left to starve. It is therefore from a praiseworthy charity that he keeps many in hospital, under his own eye, in order that they may in this manner get as much as will keep body and soul together.
Mr Alcock retired from military service in 1837 with the rank of Deputy-Inspector of Hospitals, having received the Order of the Tower and Sword together with the war medal of the three years' service in Portugal, and the Cross of the Order of Charles III. and Commander's Cross of Isabella the Catholic, with medals for the two principal actions against the Carlists.
The six years of Peninsular experiences he declared to have been "the most stirring and attractive of his life," and in some portions of that period he had "more complete personal gratification and material happiness than could be safely anticipated in the future." He was now to have six years of quite a different experience, which led up to the turning-point in his life.