Symptoms of discontent were frequently shown by the civil mechanics in the Government service at the authorized employment of the military artificers. They looked upon the measure as a political move, or as a dangerous experiment to ascertain how it would work; and then, if found to answer, to extend a like control to the other workmen in the Crown establishments. This notion they imbibed from the expressed apprehensions of some leading men of the liberal party in parliament; and, as a consequence, they were jealous of the military artificers, whom they treated with great disrespect. A species of rivalry was thus induced that rather increased than allayed the feeling of mutual animosity. The civilians were not sparing of their taunts, nor were the military artificers as temperate in their retorts as might have been wished. Quarrels naturally ensued, individual feuds were frequent, and in this way did the civilians endeavour to hold up the military artificers to ridicule and disgrace for the purpose of goading the Government to disband them; but how far they succeeded the existence of the corps at this day affords a satisfactory reply.
At one of the stations the bad feeling that existed between the civil and military artificers was exhibited in an altercation that originated between the latter and some sailors, in which the dock workmen interfered. This brought about a serious rupture, the particulars and consequences of which are given below
Matches for wrestling and cudgelling between soldiers and sailors were arranged to take place in a field adjoining Stoke Church, near Plymouth, on the afternoon of the 4th June—the King’s birthday—on which occasion the soldier-artificers, in common with the civilians, were granted a holiday. The victors were to be rewarded with buckskin breeches and silver cups. But few of the military would venture to take part in the amusements, so that the company and the sailors, and some mechanics of the dock-yard, were the principal actors. The men of the soldier-artificers who entered the lists were chiefly from Cornwall and adepts at wrestling, They only went, however, to witness the games—not to join in them; and it was not till they were challenged that they entered the arena. Having done so, they exerted themselves according to the fashion of their country, and succeeded in gaining almost the whole of the prizes; which, as was natural, they bore away with suitable demonstrations of pride and pleasure.
A dispute arose between a couple of rivals about the unfair award of a prize. It was given to a sailor, although fairly earned by a military-artificer. The misunderstanding would have been easily settled had it been left to the wrestlers themselves to decide; but the dock people interfered, and fomented the quarrel, directing their abuse in particular to the soldier-artificers. For a time the latter calmly submitted to these insults, and yielded the prize for the sake of peace; but roused at length to retaliate, they sought satisfaction in the ordinary way by fighting. Overpowered, however, by numbers, they were very severely treated and driven into barracks, where they remained for two or three hours. At last, breaking this self-imposed restraint, they again appeared in the town, having taken the precaution to prepare themselves with pick-handles and short sticks concealed about their persons, to resist any attempt at violence on the part of the civilians; and the better to cope with their opponents, they walked into the streets, when occasion required, in small parties or sections; which, however, had the unfortunate semblance of defiance, and excited the sailors and dockmen to renew their insolence.
Thus aggravated, the military artificers fell upon the civilians and drove them pell-mell through the town. Intelligence of the resumed affray soon spread, and numbers of holiday folk joined the ranks of the rabble. Armed with bludgeons, staves, and broom-handles, the civilians paraded the streets, and finding a small party of the military artificers refreshing themselves at an inn, the rabble entered and furiously attacked them. Against such overwhelming odds the little party could not hold up, and being easily mastered, they were forcibly ejected from the house and pursued to the barracks.
What had happened was, as yet, merely a series of individual or sectional encounters—the preliminaries to something more serious. Galled by a second reverse, the military artificers now mustered in full strength, together with their non-commissioned officers, and sallied into the street, brandishing brooms, pick-handles, clumps of wood, and various other unmilitary weapons. Some marines and a few other soldiers, sympathizing with the company, joined in the unhappy broil. By this time the civilians and sailors were also considerably strengthened, and every moment crowds were pouring in to swell the hostile mob.
The instant the two parties came in sight the conflict recommenced. Closely and warmly it continued for about an hour, when the civilians gave way, running in all directions from the field and leaving the military victors. The mob, soon rallied, and assembled more numerous than before, on the government ground between Cumberland and St. George’s Squares, to make another and a final struggle for the ascendancy. Thither the military artificers with their partisans hurried. Nothing dismayed by the numbers collected to oppose them, they resumed the combat. Pokers, bars of iron, and bludgeons were used with merciless fury; stones of all sizes, broken bottles, and crockery-ware were thrown, and weapons even were pressed into the riot. The scene that ensued was frightful, and the civilians continued the contest with much rancour and obstinacy. They were routed once, but suddenly turning, they dashed at the soldiers again with a frenzy that deserved a better result. The effort exhausted them; the spirit of the soldiers was stirred afresh, and, plunging among the enraged but feeble throng, they spared none that had the daring to confront them. Beaten at every point by a handful of soldiers, the civilians faced about, and retreated precipitately from the contest by the nearest avenues. The military artificers and soldiers, flushed with success, would have pursued them, and repaid their insolence in a manner not soon to be forgotten; but by the activity of Captain Jonathan Passingham, of the 38th Regiment, who paraded the town with the main guard from the lines, the intention was frustrated. The conflict lasted several hours, and many of each party were left for dead. Several, however, soon recovered, and it was then found that the casualties were—one military artificer killed, and two severely wounded; and on the side of the sailors and dock men, one killed, two mortally wounded who died, and three severely wounded.[[84]] Of the less serious wounds and accidents, from which very few escaped, no notice appears to have been taken.
For three days the company was confined to barracks by order of the Commandant, to allay the popular excitement. But whatever may be thought of the part taken by the military artificers in this riot, certain it is that it taught the dock workmen a good lesson, and had the effect of repressing their insults and annoyances, and making their future demeanour more pacific and respectful.
Several recruits having enlisted in Scotland for the companies at Gibraltar, passage was provided for them on board a ship—the name of which cannot be confidently traced—and they landed or “joined” at the fortress on the 16th April, 1791. When in the Bay of Biscay the vessel encountered a white squall, accompanied by terrific thunder and lightning, which carried, away her main and foremasts. Each moment, indeed, her final plunge was expected, and the passengers and crew, clinging to spars and boxes, shreds of sails, and fragments of the dismantled bulwarks, as the last and only chance for their lives, awaited in suspense the time when the dread alternative must be taken. With the appearance of the morning, providentially came the desired calm. All hands immediately set to work to right the vessel; the jury-mast was rigged, and the shivered ship, once more under weigh, wore on with struggling throes, and made good her passage to the Rock. The wreck and its circumstances gave rise to a song, called “The Bay of Biscay, O!”[[85]]
In January and February, 1792, the Woolwich company was employed at the Tower of London, constructing an earthen battery for four guns in front of the gates, and a wooden battery for four guns, projecting from the coping of the wall of the fortress facing the Minories, to sweep the ditch and the hill. These defensive measures were undertaken by Captain Holloway of the engineers, sergeant John Watson being the overseer, and were intended to oppose any attack on the Tower which might be attempted by the turbulent Jacobins.