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 am 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.
INTRODUCTION OF BAYONETS INTO THE ARMY.
The first allusion to bayonets in the English army is contained in the following extract from a warrant bearing date 2nd of April, 1672:—
“Charles R.—Our will and pleasure is that the Regiment of Dragoones which we have established and ordered to be raised in twelve troopes of fourscore in each, besides officers, who are to be under the command of Our most deare and most entirely beloved Cousin, Prince Rupert, shall be armed out of Our stores, remaining within Our office of the Ordinance, as followeth: that is to say, three corporalls, two sergeants, the gentlemen at armes, and twelve souldiers of each of the said twelve troopes, are to have and carry each of them one halbard, and one case of pistolls with holsters; and the rest of the souldiers of the several troopes aforesaid, are to have and to carry each of them one matchlocke musket with a collar of bandaliero, and also to have and to carry one bayonet or great knive. That each lieutenant have and carry one partizan, and that two drums be delivered out for each Troope of the said Regiment.”
When bayonets were first introduced, and for years afterwards, they were made to fit into the muzzle by a screw, and after the men had exhausted all their ammunition, they would then fit them in and use them as knives. This new weapon soon became a great favourite with our men. At length the bayonet was fastened with a socket, which enabled the muzzle to be left clear for firing. The following is from Grose’s Military Antiquities:—“In one of the campaigns of King William III in Flanders, in an engagement, there were three French Regiments present, whose bayonets were made to fix after the present fashion. One of them advanced against the 25th King’s Own Borderers, with fixed bayonets; the commander at once ordered his men to screw their bayonets into their muzzles to receive them. But to his great surprise, when they came within a short distance, the French threw in a heavy fire, which for a time staggered his people, who by no means expected such a greeting, not conscious how it was possible to fire with fixed bayonets; but our people soon recovered themselves and closed upon the enemy, and almost destroyed them to a man.” Almost all the battles that have been fought for the last 200 years on land, have been decided by that never-failing weapon. Artillery have been baffled, cavalry have been laughed at, but the bayonet in the hands of a Briton has proved itself too much for both black and white. Every battle in the Peninsula, from Roliça to Toulouse, was decided by that weapon; every fortress was taken with it. Sebastopol defied all the fire of Artillery; the bayonet had to do, and did, what shot and shell could not. And the late go-in in Egypt has again proved that, in the hands of determined men, it is an unconquerable weapon; they may well call it the “queen of weapons.” One of the most desperate contests that ever was fought between man and man was at Albuera, 16th May, 1811, and it was decided by the bayonet, the enemy being routed from the field. As the great military historian, Sir W. Napier, says, “This battle was to all human appearance lost; our Artillery were in the hands of the enemy, the Cavalry riding all over the hill, spearing the wounded, and cutting down all that resisted. The retreat had been ordered by our Commander, Lord Beresford, but there was one on the field endowed with the heart of a lion and the eye of an eagle; this was the late Lord Hardinge, then Captain Hardinge, and Aide-de-Camp to Marshal Beresford—he rode up to General the Hon. L. Cole, and ordered him to advance with his brigade, and thus redeem the fortune of the day, that all thought to be lost. The General, supposing that the order was from the Commander, at once put his Fusiliers in motion; they consisted of two battalions of the 7th Royal Fusiliers, and two of the 23rd Royal Welsh Fusiliers. Such a line—such a gallant line—issuing from the smoke, and rapidly separating itself from the confused and broken multitude, startled the enemy’s heavy masses, which were increasing and pressing forward as to an assured victory. The Fusiliers wavered, hesitated, and then, after vomiting a storm of fire, endeavoured to enlarge their front, while a fearful discharge of grape from the enemy’s guns whistled through their ranks. The Colonel of the 7th (Myers) fell dead, the Officers fell thick, and the Fusilier battalions, struck by the iron tempest, reeled and staggered like drunken men. Suddenly and sternly recovering, they closed on their terrible enemies, and then was seen with what majesty the British soldier fights. In vain did Soult, by voice and gesture, animate his Frenchmen. In vain did the hardiest veterans extricate themselves from the crowded columns, and sacrifice their lives to gain time for the mass to open out on such a fair field. In vain did the mass bear itself up, and, fiercely striving, fire indiscriminately on friend and foe; while the cavalry, hovering on their flanks, threatened to charge the advancing line. Nothing could stop our astonishing infantry; no sudden burst of undisciplined valour, no nervous enthusiasm weakened the stability of their order; their flashing eyes were bent on the dark columns in front, their measured tread shook the ground, their dreadful volleys swept away the head of every formation, their deafening shouts overpowered the cries that broke from all parts of the crowd, as foot by foot, and with a horrid carnage, it was driven, by the vigour of the attack, to the edge of the hill. In vain did the French reserves join the struggling multitude, endeavouring to sustain the fight; their efforts only increased the confusion, and the mighty mass, like a loosened cliff, went headlong down the hill. The rain flowed after in streams discoloured with blood, and 1,500 unwounded men, the remnant of 6,000 unconquerable British soldiers, stood triumphant on that fatal hill.” Such was the advance of the Fusilier Brigade; everything was carried by the bayonet. The whole French Army on the field was swept off that fatal hill. But, to add to the horror of the scene, at the close of the day our Artillery were compelled to gallop over everything as they came past, with blood, brains, and human hair upon their hoofs and wheels. They were compelled to ride over the poor wounded, deaf to the cries of the brave fellows there laid prostrate in the dust. Reader, what a scene! But such is war. This fight had a wonderful effect upon the French, and, ever after that, they approached the British Infantry with a secret feeling of distrust, for these never knew when they were beaten. Wellington, who came up with the remainder of the army shortly afterwards, said, “This victory will be as good as 10,000 men to me.”[29]
But the following is, without doubt, the crowning and most daring, dashing, and dare-devil bit of work that ever took place: there is nothing in military records to compare with it. The regiments that so nobly upheld the honour of old England were the 5th Northumberland Fusiliers and 77th Foot. It was at El Bodón, on the 24th September, 1811. It was not called a battle; our people were retiring to take up a position, and the commander of the French, thought of either destroying or capturing them before assistance could be brought up. But the Lion was in their path. Their Cavalry repeatedly came thundering on, and our little band was completely surrounded; but they kept sending a sheet of fire into their assailants; our handful of Cavalry charged them at least twenty times; our guns mowed them down with grape, but still the brave sons of France came on, squadron after squadron. Our danger was now imminent; our guns were in the hands of the enemy; the Artillery had been cut down; our handful of Cavalry had been routed or destroyed. One man, a dashing soldier—Major H. Ridge, of the Fusiliers—rushed boldly into the midst of the French Cavalry with his Fusiliers; all was left to the bayonet; the 77th nobly took the hint, and on they went too, with their comrades, in a desperate headlong charge. It was Infantry charging Cavalry, with that never-failing weapon, the bayonet. The enemy were routed from the field and our guns re-taken. They were thunderstruck, and could hardly believe it; they once more collected themselves, and came down like lightning upon these devoted regiments; but were again met with that nasty piece of cold steel, and thus these two noble regiments held their own until assistance came up. The enemy had been baffled at all points. Wellington might well thank them for their conduct.