2 nine-pounder guns; and

4 small ammunition waggons.

The time occupied in the passage of the troops was fifty minutes, and on its completion, the bridge was speedily broken up into rafts. These, with the assistance of the India-rubber rafts, manned by the same detachment as on the 5th July, were afterwards employed in ferrying back the 38th and 93rd regiments at a spot 150 yards wide, below where the bridge had been constructed. This duty was also completed in fifty minutes. In all the operations, there appears to have been a remarkable coincidence of duration, which, had the facts not been carefully ascertained and recorded, would seem to be the errors of carelessness or inexperience.

In crossing the bridge, many of the horses of the Life Guards became unmanageable. Not a few of them got into a gallop and started off, sometimes as many as three abreast. Several of the artillery horses also were restive. Among so much violence and disorder, the sappers, who lined the bridge as before, had to bear their full share of accident and danger, and before the passage was effected, as many as twenty-five sergeants and rank and file were thrust overboard. All fortunately could swim, and soon made good their places on their respective rafts.

This day’s bridging closed the operations on Virginia Water. With the exception of seven rafts and the six carriages, the remainder of the pontoons and stores were packed up and removed to their original stations at Woolwich and Chatham. The seven rafts, &c., were soon afterwards conveyed to Staines, in readiness for ulterior service over the Thames.

On the 27th July another pontoon bridge was thrown, this time across the Thames, at Runnymede, celebrated alike for its historic claims and attractions, and for the beauty of the surrounding landscape. The point chosen was an angle of the river about a mile from the town of Egham, opposite Ankerwycke House. The operation bore some resemblance to that which took place on Virginia Lake on the 5th July. The sappers commenced their march at eight o’clock in the morning, and, proceeding with the pontoons along the Windsor and Staines roads, halted on the banks of the river at Runnymede at a quarter to eleven. At once the men set to work, and under the more natural circumstances of steep banks and a strong tidal current, unfelt at Virginia Water, threw in thirty-five minutes a bridge consisting of six rafts of twelve cylindrical pontoons in open order, twelve feet apart, and two half bays. To allow the operation to be conducted without interruption, a mimic battle was fiercely carried on some distance higher up the river, and to afford protection to the bridge as it approached the Ankerwycke shore, parties of the 79th Highlanders were rapidly rowed across in punts, which at the time were lying unemployed and captured for the occasion. Soon the combat was removed to the pontoons, and a heavy fusillade was for a long time kept up. Under cover of the guns of the horse artillery, fired from a commanding position, the troops poured over the bridge in a continuous stream, and followed the retreating enemy, with all the impetuosity of enthusiastic pursuit into Magna Charta Island. There the fight was hotly maintained, and ultimately won by the little band of mixed troops under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Vicars.

The troops that crossed the bridge were a battalion of the Guards, 4th Light Dragoons, the other battalion of Guards, 79th Highlanders, the Horse Guards Blue, and some batteries of horse and foot artillery.

An accident took place just as the last battery was crossing the bridge. The vertical motion of the rafts was such as to startle the horses, and some, from the dull reverberating noise produced by their tramp, coupled with the booming roll of the heavy wheels on the superstructure, became ungovernable, and six horses tumbled into the stream dragging with them a gun with its carriage and limber. As usual, the sappers lined the bridge with extended oars, and in the struggling of the horses, four of the men were swept into the current. Three of them were injured—two severely. These were privates John Piper and William Swann,[[126]] who were also nearly drowned. The latter was entangled with the horses in the water, and it was with great difficulty he succeeded in getting on the back of one of them, when he was picked up by the crew of a boat quickly manned for the purpose. Four of the horses were cleverly rescued by colour-sergeant William Jamieson and private Henry Collins, who dexterously cut the traces; but the two wheel-horses, borne down by the carriage, could not be saved. Privates Daniel Port, Henry Collins,[[127]] and Elias Garratt conducted themselves with intrepidity on the occasion by plunging from the bridge into the river to rescue the men and save the horses.

After the operation the sappers bivouacked on the ground, and dined on the day’s ration taken with them from the camp. The bridge was afterwards dismantled, packed on the waggons, and then accompanied the troops to Staines. The company belonging to the Chobham force did not reach its tents till eight o’clock in the evening.

On field days the sappers, together with a company of the Guards, on several occasions under Captain the Prince Edward of Saxe Weimar, and a company of the 23rd fusiliers[fusiliers], represented the enemy under the command of Colonel Vicars, R.E. All acted as skirmishers; and when pressed by charges of the troops, formed squares, or resorted to such other simple manœuvres as were best adapted to their position and circumstances. On these days the expenditure of ammunition by the company was enormous; 100 rounds per man at least were consumed. On the first day of the pontooning at Virginia Water, the sappers, who were posted to prevent the passage of the troops by Blacknest Bridge, fired in an hour and a-quarter about 120 rounds a man. The firing of the main body of the division was always comparatively trifling. From the hard nature of the duties that devolved upon the enemy, the men composing it gained in camp the familiar designation of “The Kaffirs.” The last field day at Chobham was one of labour and fatigue to the men. They fired more than an average quantity of ammunition, and at its close the sappers marched at the head of the line in review, before the Duke of Cambridge and Lord Seaton. Their blackened faces, dingy accoutrements, and well-worn apparel afforded a striking contrast to the clean appearance, unsoiled appointments, and bright uniform of the passing squadrons and battalions; and it was no inappropriate commendation to say on this, their last camp inspection, that in their endurance, their hardihood, their wearied but dauntless aspect, they looked like “Polish patriots—few, but undismayed.”