The history of the 1st Batt. Wilts Volunteers, from 1861 to 1885

by R. D. Gibney

The 1st Administrative Battalion, Wilts, saw much bloodless service whilst attending these autumn manœuvres, and learnt how wars were won, but whether the future tense can be used is not for the writer to say, he only thinks not. The Battle of Codford was a terrible battle on paper, and doubtless, with the aid of good district maps, admirably contrived so that both sides should win, or that defeat was unlikely. Science and skill were to be the deciders of this great battle, not murder and panic. Trout streams of varying depths, from inches to feet, were to be considered rivers, with bridges here and there broken down by artillery or blown up, so as to delay progress. Walls and roadside buildings, loop-holed, demanded either delay, or a detour through fields or swamps to recover the high road, and artillery were so artfully posted as to be unknown and unseen until the hail of shot and shell swept away at least a brigade from among the many advancing, heedless of consequences. These contretemps have occurred in real warfare. There was a surprise at Moodkee, something worse at Ferozeshah; bayonets and bravery versus entrenchments and mistakes at Subraon; and a defeat at Chillianwallah, all in India; but these happened in days when skill was not so much considered, and when weapons of destruction and arms of accuracy were quite in their infancy. The Crimea had taught us something; the Mutinies, China and Cape wars, more; and the result of the short, but cruel war, between France and Germany, too recent for its lessons to be forgotten. Besides all this, what were these autumn manœuvres got up for, but to teach troops how to fight skilfully, and their commanders to practically acquire a knowledge of strategy and tactics?

The valley dividing the great ridge, or Grovely Wood, and through which valley somewhat lazily meandered the Wiley Brook, was the scene where much of the conflict occurred. Farm houses, cottage gardens, and water-meadows, half concealed in alder bushes, and low jungle, well aiding the attack of the bold northern army on the position behind Grovely Wood, and the great ridge taken up by the southerners. In vain did the enemy's artillery vomit forth smoke and imaginary shot and shell from copse and half-hidden points of advantage. The southerners were not to be scared, but commencing the offensive, poured down upon the devoted enemy through the paths of the Great Ridge Wood, and covered by a cloud of skirmishers, drove the enemy from the valley, dividing the positions of the two forces. Artillery answers artillery, and cavalry, careless of consequences, chase skirmishers over the meadows. Now the strategy, or previous arrangements of the south begin to tell, and gradually the attackers withdraw to their stronghold across the great river Wiley, there in their turn to be attacked.

Perhaps the strategical part was over, and tactics required modification; or, it may have been that the lessons in the "New Primer," reduced to greater simplicity from the German edition on the subject of warfare, were omitted for the occasion; however, what-ever was the cause, the minor matters of "bridges blown up," "this part of river unfordable," "this house is loop-holed," &c., were treated with the contempt deserved, and men, flushed with victory, risked their all in running through "unfordable" streams, passing over "blown-up bridges," or hugging highways whose sides were lined with "loop-holed" cottages or outhouses. It was no time to stop and consider these trifles, losing valuable half hours over the restoration of a bridge, or moving far away to a flank so as to avoid the discharge from loop-holed barn or house. The heights of Codford, crowned with artillery and armed men, bid defiance as they rose above the high road leading to Salisbury, and to take these was to gain the victory.

"Deploy! Deploy!" was the word of command, and brigades extended into line at the base of the steep hillside, firing volley after volley into it, preparatory to commencing the ascent. Then came the storm, and, amid a hail of bullets of imagination, a smother of hot powder, hotter and thicker from its uncommonly close delivery, a jeer as from an over-confident enemy, the brave 2nd Brigade struggled up the slippery, moss-grown chalk hill, and staggering with over-exertion, breathless, and disorganized, on reaching the summit, fearlessly attacked the defenders' right, and claimed a victory. There was a pause. The bugles rang out the "Cease fire," and whilst north and south were wrangling among themselves as to blunders made, the umpire's decision was given for the southern army, and parting company, both forces returned to their camps.

The war ended not here. Yet another encounter took place between the northern and southern armies before the time arrived for the 1st Administrative Battalion, Wilts, to return homewards. It tried the marching powers of the volunteers, and appeared to have in it a definite object and a definite plan; and so far as opening out the road to London, or to somewhere in that direction, it was decidedly successful. The flank of the northerners resting on Wishford, was turned, and there could be no doubt of the inability of the centre and right to share the glory, even had they come to the aid.

The Grovely Wood, or Great Ridge as it is termed, was an advantage to the southern force. It extended for many miles continuous with their right flank, and enabled them at any time to use its various openings for the purpose of raiding the valley of the Wiley, or for obtaining information of any changes occurring in the camp of the enemy, posted on the higher ground between Codford and Wishford. On the 7th September, the battle of Wishford took place, and was commenced by a large portion of the southern army (using the Great Ridge as a screen) making a detour to the eastward, and then, when clear, crossing the Wiley lower down at Wilton, and attacking in force the left flank of the enemy at the time resting on the undulating ground above the village of Wishford. The attack was irresistible, and to all appearances unexpected; the numbers of the attackers being in excess of the defenders, and no help from centre or flank being given. Indeed this portion of the northern army had been kept fully employed during the time occupied by the flank movement of the southerners, by frequent attacks on it made by the troops holding Great Ridge and the intervening valley of the Wiley; so that probably their being attacked in force on the left was a surprise, and doubtless a defeat.

It was a very hard day's work, beginning any short time after daybreak, lasting until nearly sunset, and it required a man to be the sternest of disciplinarians not to enter fully into the satisfactory feelings of H.M. Guards, when, some time before the finish of the day, they were told by their commanding officer to lie down. "Smoke, if you like," added the hardened man, as he expressed himself grateful to the cocked hat putting him and his regiment out of action till the battle was over. Misguided man; he had perhaps despised his enemy, or on some hill, somewhere, artillery were massed, and would play havoc among his men, and for these he had not allowed. "You should have reduced your front, sir," said he of the cocked hat, with withering sarcasm in his tone, adding, "You are out of action until the battle is over."

"Thank God! Lie down, my men," was the impenitent reply of that colonel.

Tired, hungry, and footsore, the battalion marched back again to Wilton, and there, whilst the train was preparing by which they should return homewards, they were hospitably entertained by Captain the Earl of Pembroke, a proceeding certainly not anticipated earlier in the day, by the noble host, or his hungry guests.