It will be readily understood that so large a force was not collected without difficulty. But of the extent of the labour involved no one can adequately judge who has not had access to the official letter-books of the time. The expedition to the Helder proved at once the necessity of a head-quarters staff for the Royal Artillery, and the capacity of the man who had been selected as the first Deputy-Adjutant-General of the Corps. The later campaigns, in whose organization Sir John Macleod had so large a share, were undoubtedly on a grander scale; but it is questionable whether his zeal, tact, and activity were ever so prominent, as in the arrangements for this unfortunate expedition to Holland. He did everything, and made a point of knowing everything, himself: he gave himself no rest until he accomplished his purpose; nor yet did the amount of his official labours interfere with the courtesy to all ranks for which he was so remarkable. A private letter of friendly notice always preceded the order for movement, where such intimation could be given without detriment to the Service; no unnecessary mystery attended his actions: he was almost laboriously anxious to meet the convenience of all concerned, and evinced in his letters a sympathy, such as he could not have surpassed in his dealings with his own relations. His correspondence with the various commanding officers, from under whose control he had to steal detachments to bring the companies for service up to their required strength, is a masterpiece. Never for one moment leaving the line of action which necessity and the Board had imposed on him, he yet seemed to consult and defer to the Generals whose divisions he was weakening, and to obtain by their consent what he really was taking by force. If ever a wrong system, such as the old dual government of the Artillery was, could be made less detestable, it was made so by Colonel Macleod’s tact and courtesy. And it is better that the deformities of a military system should be laid bare in time of peace, than on the eve of war, when the almost inevitable confusion cannot afford to be increased by ill-timed revelations. An indifferent machine well-worked is better than an admirable one whose powers are paralysed by some temporary, but thorough disarrangement. It is not when breakers are ahead, that men speculate on the beauties of their engines: it is then that—be they what they may—they are expected to work to the utmost of their power. In the hands of Colonel Macleod the evils of a wrong system were reduced to a minimum: but the system was a wrong one still.
His exertions to perfect the force which he had to organize were as admirable, as were his endeavours to remove all possible friction. There have been times in our military history, when the great wheel of progress and success has—after much creaking—been set in motion by the untiring exertions of unexpected leaders, or uncomplaining heroism in the ranks, instead of the labours of those on whom the organization of the armies depended. And at such times of unexpected fortune, it has generally been found that the official flies have buzzed most loudly around the revolving wheel, as if they had been the motive power. Not so with Colonel Macleod in 1799. Nothing was beneath his notice; no exertion was spared by him which could ensure the perfection, as well as the harmony, of the machine. The same pages which reveal his consideration for individuals show also his determination to render the Artillery part of the expedition unrivalled: and his difficulties were very great. In the single item of horses, he found an obstacle which bid fair to be insurmountable; for the horses did not exist in the service, and could hardly be bought. Such animals as were procured by scouring the country were in so wretched a condition, that they could barely crawl in harness. So important was every day of decent rations to the sorry brutes, that to every party marching to the port of embarkation—Ramsgate—Colonel Macleod sent orders to shorten the marches, and to delay going on board as long as possible—and D. A. Gen.’s Correspondence. at all hazards, “except,” he wrote, “that of allowing it to be said, ‘We are waiting for the Ordnance.’”
Among other evils was the monotonous cry from distant colonies—not only heard in 1799, nor by one Deputy Adjutant-General—of “More men from England!” Every place was drained of every available man; even the old gunners at the Tower were drafted away, and raw recruits sent in their place: but the colonial wants were not satisfied. Militia regiments, which were embodied, were also sending daily petitions for battalion guns, followed by remonstrances and strongly-worded indignation. And Colonel Macleod, in spite of his personal opinions, was obliged to strain every nerve to meet a wish, which was still supported by our military system. His personal opinions, it has been said,—and truly: for the correspondence of the period reveals the fact that Colonel Macleod had commenced to detest the existing system of battalion guns. He dared not say openly what he thought; but from a private letter written at this time his opinion may be easily learnt. Writing of some detachments which had been collected under an officer’s command, Letter to Colonel—afterwards Sir John—Smith. he said: “I believe they are intended for the battalion guns of the Infantry Brigades, and I had some thoughts of drawing them to Chatham, where I would have them drilled to the duty expected of them—appointing 1 non-commissioned officer and 7 gunners to each 6-pounder, and accustoming them to make use of a horse to advance, instead of drag-rope men—a custom which weakens the battalions they are attached to without aiding the services of the Artillery. For, between you and I, six men are too few to drag guns, and too many to stand with ropes in their hands to be shot at.”
An incident, which occurred at this time, shows that the system of drawing lots was not confined to choice of stations or barracks at home. In a letter to the commanding officer at Newcastle—Colonel Lawson—Colonel Macleod, in calling for one of the companies under his command for service in the expedition, requested him to assemble the Captains, and make them draw lots for the duty.
It was in August 1799 that the force sailed from England; and the student, who has realised the labours of Colonel Macleod, will also be able to conceive the feelings of relief with which he despatched, at 3 A.M. on a day at the beginning of that month, a mounted orderly, to carry the intelligence from Woolwich to the Duke of York at Deal, that the last man and horse of the Artillery had embarked. It will now be necessary to follow the expedition, merely remarking here that the casualties, which speedily occurred, rendered a fresh supply of ammunition and horses necessary before many weeks had passed, and that consequently Colonel Macleod had but a brief respite from his toil.
The expedition to the Helder was intended to effect two things—the capture of the Dutch fleet, which in the hands of the French was an unmistakable danger to England, and a military demonstration in Holland, which should lead to a rising against the Republican Government. In the first of these objects the expedition succeeded; in the second it miserably failed. For an exhibition of fruitless gallantry, it has not been surpassed in the annals of the British Army. But happily it was the closing scene in the drama of military failure, with which the last decade of the eighteenth century was surfeited. With the new century came a spirit in England’s military operations, which made her campaigns by land as glorious as her successes by sea. The wars of the nineteenth century threw into the background the share taken by our armies in the wars of the French Revolution, during the period which preceded the overthrow of the Directorate in France and the virtual assumption of the supreme power by Napoleon in the winter of 1799. But the Regimental historian has to bring even fruitless and unsuccessful wars to light again, in his search for stories of individual gallantry or for the causes of failure.
England’s ally in the expedition to the Helder was Russia. It had been arranged by the two governments that the land forces should comprise a Russian contingent of 17,000 men, and an English army of 13,000. England more than fulfilled her promise: for the actual force sent by her was as much as that promised as the Russian contribution. In addition, England furnished vessels to assist in the transport of the Russian troops from the Baltic, and a powerful fleet, of more than sixty men-of-war, under Admiral Lord Duncan. On the 21st August, 1799, the fleet and transports arrived off the mouth of the Zuyder Zee, and anchored off the Helder: but foul weather prevented a disembarkation until the 27th,—a delay which gave undoubted advantage to the French and Batavian troops. The enemy was at first under the command of General Daendels, but he was almost immediately superseded by General Brune; and the army, which had at first been 10,000 strong, rose in a few weeks to nearly treble that number.
23rd, 27th, 29th, 55th, and 85th Regiments.
Abercromby’s division was the first to land, and after a very severe engagement, in which the Infantry under Generals Sir James Pulteney and Coote behaved most gallantly, the Dutch were driven back, and the English took possession of the Kirkduin, and the fort of the Helder. The Artillery was not landed till after this engagement: nor was the Cust. ground favourable to the use of the Dutch artillery. The fleet was summoned to surrender: and the Dutch Admiral, conscious of a strong spirit of insubordination among his crews, ever since the appearance of the British flag, consented to deliver over his ships, unconditionally; and thus gave over to the English the complete control of the Zuyder Zee. On this taking place, the Dutch troops retired, and took up a position in front of Alkmaar, where they were joined by General Brune and 7000 French. Abercromby occupied the ground vacated by the Dutch, and strengthened it in every way possible, being resolved to await there the arrival of the Duke of York and the Russian contingent. General Brune, however, saw the advantage of an engagement before such a junction could be effected; and therefore on the 10th September he assumed the offensive, but without success,—being totally defeated with a loss of 2000 men. ‘London Gazette,’ 16 Sept. 1799. The Artillery was of great service to Abercromby; and it was in this engagement—known as the action of Zyp—that Lieutenant Simpson was wounded. The French resumed their old position in front of Alkmaar, which they greatly strengthened; and confined their operations to preventing Abercromby from advancing out of the contracted space in which he was situated.
On the 12th September the Russians arrived, and on the day following the Duke of York assumed the command, and resolved on leaving the position where the army had been stationed, and on attacking the enemy with the large force now at his disposal, numbering about 35,000 men. He divided his army into four columns: the right being under General Hermann, and composed entirely of Russians; the second, under General Dundas, consisting partly of British, and partly of Russians; the third, under Sir James Pulteney, with a large proportion of Artillery and Cavalry; and the fourth, under Sir Ralph Abercromby, consisting entirely of British troops; the last being intended to make a détour on the evening of the 18th September—the day before the intended battle—and to turn the enemy’s right flank. The first three columns were ordered to attack simultaneously at break of day on the 19th, moving on different named points. These arrangements, which have been somewhat severely criticised, would doubtless have succeeded, had the Duke’s orders been obeyed; but unfortunately the first, or Russian, column precipitated the engagement by attacking the enemy two or three hours before the other columns were ready to move, and drove the enemy out of the village of Bergen. General Brune brought up his reserve to recover his lost ground, and fell upon the Russian troops when in a state of intoxication from the excesses of which they had been guilty since the capture of the village. A disgraceful scene followed, ending in the tumultuous flight of the Russians with the loss of many prisoners. The Duke of York accompanied the second column, but the retreat of the Russians on his right compelled him to fall back, and to send orders to the third and fourth columns to do the same. Great success had in the meantime attended the efforts of Sir James Pulteney,—the Guards, 17th and 40th Regiments, having greatly distinguished themselves; but, owing to the change given to the whole plan by the mistake and misbehaviour of the first column, when night came the Allies occupied precisely the same ground as they held in the morning. The loss to the English amounted to 500 killed and wounded, and 500 taken prisoners;—and the Russians lost 3000 men; but an equal number of the enemy had been taken prisoners by the Allies. In this engagement, known as the battle of Bergen or Alkmaar, the loss of the Royal Artillery was as follows:—