FOOTNOTES:
[6] Some of these poor wretches cut a ludicrous figure, having the men's great-coats buttoned over their heads, whilst their clothing being extremely ragged and scanty, their naked legs were very conspicuous. They looked a tribe of travelling beggars.
[7] Our division, under Craufurd, in this retreat, as I have before mentioned, made for Vigo.
CHAPTER XV.
THE WALCHEREN EXPEDITION.
Filling up the ranks—Going out recruiting—Bagging a blackbird—Coaxing the militia, and hoaxing them—A demon runner—Winning a commission.
After the disastrous retreat to Corunna, the Rifles were reduced to a sickly skeleton, if I may so term it. Out of perhaps nine hundred of as active and fine fellows as ever held a weapon in the field of an enemy's country, we paraded some three hundred weak and crest-fallen invalids.
I myself stood the third man in my own company, which was reduced from near a hundred men, to but three. Indeed, I think we had scarce a company on parade stronger than ten or twelve men, at the first parade. After a few parades, however, our companies gradually were augmented (by those of the sick who recovered), but many of those who did not sink in hospital, were never more of much service as soldiers.
The captain of my company was sick, and Lieutenant Hill commanded the three men who answered for No. 4 on this occasion.
I remember he smiled when he looked at me. "Harris," he said, "you look the best man here, this morning. You seem to have got over this business well."
"Yes, Sir," I said, "thank God I feel pretty stout again now, which is more than many can say."
Both battalions of the Rifles had been in that retreat. The first battalion lay at Colchester at this time. Ours (the second) was quartered at Hythe. Colonel Beckwith commanded the first, and Colonel Wade the second. I remember the 43rd and 52nd Regiments paraded with our battalion on this occasion at Hythe, and both having been with us on the Corunna retreat, cut as poor a figure as we ourselves did.
After awhile, some of the strongest and smartest of our men were picked out to go on the recruiting service, and gather men from the militia regiments to fill up our ranks. I myself started off with Lieutenant Pratt, Sergeant-Major Adams, and William Brotherwood, the latter of whom was afterwards killed at Vittoria by a cannon-ball, which at the same moment ended Patrick Mahon and Lieutenant Hopwood.[8]
I was a shoemaker in the corps, and had twenty pounds in my pocket which I had saved up. With this money I hired a gig, and the Sergeant-Major and myself cut a very smart figure. The only difficulty was, that neither of us knew how to drive very well, consequently we overturned the gig on the first day, before we got half way on our journey, and the shafts being broken we were obliged to leave it behind us in a small village, midway between Hythe and Rye, and take to our legs, as was more soldier-like and seemly. We reached Rye the same night, and I recollect that I succeeded in getting the first recruit there, a strong, able-bodied chimney-sweep, named John Lee. This fellow (whose appearance I was struck with as he sat in the taproom of the "Red Lion" on that night, together with a little boy as black and sooty as himself) offered to enlist the moment I entered the room, and I took him at his word, and immediately called for the Sergeant-Major for approval.
"There's nothing against my being a soldier," said the sweep, "but my black face; I'm strong, active, and healthy, and able to lick the best man in this room."
"Hang your black face," said the Sergeant-Major; "the Rifles can't be too dark: you're a strong rascal, and if you mean it, we'll take you to the doctor to-morrow and make a Giniril of you the next day." So we had the sweep that night into a large tub of water, scoured him outside, and filled him with punch inside, and made a Rifleman of him.
The Sergeant-Major, however, on this night, suspected from his countenance, what afterwards turned out to be the case, that Lee was rather a slippery fellow, and might repent. So, after filling him drunk, he said to me—"Harris, you have caught this bird, and you must keep him fast. You must both sleep to-night handcuffed together in the same bed, or he will escape us;" which I actually did, and the next morning retraced my steps with him to Hythe, to be passed by the doctor of our regiment.
After rejoining Sergeant-Major Adams at Rye, we started off for Hastings in Sussex, and on our way we heard of the East Kent Militia at Lydd; so we stopped there about an hour to display ourselves before them, and try if we could coax a few of them into the Rifles. We strutted up and down before their ranks arm-in-arm, and made no small sensation amongst them. When on the recruiting service in those days, men were accustomed to make as gallant a show as they could, and accordingly we had both smartened ourselves up a trifle. The Sergeant-Major was quite a beau, in his way; he had a sling belt to his sword like a field-officer, a tremendous green feather in his cap, a flaring sash, his whistle and powder-flask displayed, an officer's pelisse over one shoulder, and a double allowance of ribbons in his cap; whilst I myself was also as smart as I dared appear, with my rifle slung at my shoulder.
In this guise we made as much of ourselves as if we had both been Generals, and, as I said, created quite a sensation, the militia-men cheering us as we passed up and down, till they were called to order by the officers.
The permission to volunteer was not then given to the East Kent, although it came out a few days afterwards, and we persuaded many men, during the hour we figured before them, that the Rifles were the only boys fit for them to join.
After looking up the East Kent, we reached Hastings that same night, where we found that the volunteering of the Leicester Militia (who were quartered there) had commenced, and that one hundred and twenty-five men and two officers had given their names to the 7th Fusileers, and these, Adams and I determined to make change their minds in our favour if we could.
The appearance of our Rifle uniform, and a little of Sergeant Adams's[9] blarney, so took the fancies of the volunteers, that we got every one of them for the Rifle corps, and both officers[10] into the bargain. We worked hard in this business. I may say that for three days and nights we kept up the dance and the drunken riot. Every volunteer got ten guineas bounty, which, except the two kept back for necessaries, they spent in every sort of excess, till all was gone. Then came the reaction. The drooping spirits, the grief at parting with old comrades, sweethearts, and wives, for the uncertain fate of war. And then came on the jeers of the old soldier; the laughter of Adams and myself, and comrades, and our attempts to give a fillip to their spirits as we marched them off from the friends they were never to look upon again; and as we termed it, "shove them on to glory"—a glory they were not long in achieving, as out of the hundred and fifty of the Leicestershire, which we enlisted in Hastings, scarce one man, I should say, who served, but could have shewn at the year's end some token of the fields he had fought in; very many found a grave, and some returned to Hythe with the loss of their limbs.
I remember the story of many of these men's lives; that of one in particular, named Demon, whom I myself enlisted from the Leicester Militia, is not a little curious. Demon was a smart and very active man, and serving as corporal in the light company of the Leicestershire when I persuaded him to join our corps, where he was immediately made a sergeant in the 3rd battalion, then just forming; and from which he eventually rose to be a commissioned officer in one of our line regiments, but whose number I cannot now remember. The cause which led to Demon's merits being first noticed was not a little curious, being neither more nor less than a race.
It happened that at Shoreham Cliff, (soon after he joined) a race was got up amongst some Kentish men, who were noted for their swiftness, and one of them, who had beaten his companions, challenged any soldier in the Rifles to run against him for two hundred pounds. The sum was large, and the runner was of so much celebrity, that although we had some active young fellows amongst us, no one seemed inclined to take the chance, either officers or men, till at length Demon stepped forth and said he would run against this Kentish boaster, or any man on the face of the earth, and fight him afterwards into the bargain, if any one could be found to make up the money. Upon this, an officer subscribed the money, and the race was arranged.
The affair made quite a sensation, and the inhabitants of the different villages for miles around flocked to see the sport; besides which the men from different regiments in the neighbourhood, infantry, cavalry, and artillery, also were much interested, and managed to be present, which caused the scene to be a very gay one. In short, the race commenced, and the odds were much against the soldier at starting, as he was a much less man than the other, and did not at all look like the winner. He however kept well up with his antagonist, and the affair seemed likely to end in a dead heat, which would undoubtedly have been the case, but Demon, when close upon the winning-post, gave one tremendous spring forward, and won it by his body's length.
This race, in short, led on to notice and promotion. General Mackenzie was in command of the garrison at Hythe. He was present, and was highly delighted at the Rifleman beating the bumpkin, and saw that the winner was the very cut of a soldier, and in short that Demon was a very smart fellow, so that, eventually, the news of the race reached the first battalion then fighting in Spain. Sir Andrew Barnard, as far as I recollect from hearsay, at the time, was then in command of the Rifles in Spain; and, as I now remember the story, either he or some other officer of rank, upon being told of the circumstance, remarked that, as Demon was such a smart runner in England, there was very good ground for a Rifleman to use his legs in Spain. He was accordingly ordered out with the next draft to that country, where he so much distinguished himself that he obtained his commission, as already mentioned.
I could give many more anecdotes connected with the recruiting at this time for the three battalions of Rifles, but the above will suffice; and soon after the incident I have just narrated (our companies being full of young and active men), we started off with the expedition, then just formed, for Walcheren. I could not help feeling, when we paraded, that I stood enranked for this first expedition comparatively amongst strangers, since in the company I belonged to, not a single man, except James Brooks, whom I have before named, then paraded with me who had been a fellow comrade in the fields of Portugal and Spain. I felt also the loss of my old Captain (Leech), whom I much loved and respected, and who left the second battalion at that time to be promoted in the first. When I heard of this change, I stepped from the ranks and offered to exchange into the first, but Lieutenant Hill, who was present, hinted to Captain Hart (my new commanding officer) not to let me go, as, if he did, he would perhaps repent it. I will not say here what the Lieutenant then said of me, but he persuaded Captain Hart to keep me, as my character had been so good in the former campaign; and accordingly I remained in the second battalion, and started on the Walcheren expedition.
From Hythe to Deal was one day's march; and I remember looking along the road at the good appearance the different regiments made as we marched along. It was as fine an expedition as ever I looked at, and the army seemed to stretch, as I regarded them, the whole distance before us to Dover.