Brave British soldiers and the Victoria Cross / a general account of the regiments and men of the British Army, and stories of the brave deeds which won the prize "for valour"

by Unknown

Notwithstanding their superiority in numbers, the French were repulsed at every point; the English remained masters of the field; and this was the first of a series of successes which led to the evacuation of Egypt and the overthrow of all Napoleon’s hopes of Eastern conquest.

In 1809 we find the Welsh Fusiliers at Corunna, in Spain. It would be foreign to our purpose to relate the events which preceded that battle; suffice it to say, that Sir John Moore, after a series of brilliant encounters with the enemy, was obliged to retreat. The Spaniards afforded no assistance to the retreating army, which was reduced to the greatest privations; officers and men suffered alike from hunger and fatigue; it was not unusual for the soldiers to point to some young aristocrat marching at the head of his company without shoes or stockings, and to say, with grim humour, “There goes ten thousand a year.” On this, as almost every occasion, the officers bore up better than the men, so great is the influence which the mind has over the body. On reaching Corunna, where they were about to embark for England, our men were attacked by the French. Sir John Moore was prepared to receive them; the sick, the cavalry, and part of the artillery were already embarked; the remaining part of his forces were drawn up to meet the attack of the enemy. The Welsh Fusiliers formed part of General Fraser’s division, which was stationed in the rear at a short distance from Corunna. The enemy charged again and again, but our men not only kept their ground and remained unbroken, but actually forced them to retire at the point of the bayonet. The battle began at mid-day, and at five o’clock in the afternoon the enemy were foiled at every point, and our army occupied a more advanced position than at first. The loss of the British was 800 killed and wounded, including their gallant leader, who was struck to the ground by a cannon-ball, and died in the hour of victory. His death has been commemorated in lines familiar to all our readers, and it is satisfactory to know that Soult, instead of insulting his ashes, caused a monument to be erected to his memory. It is by such generous acts that nations prove their manhood amid the fierce passions evoked by war.

The Welsh Fusiliers also took part in the reduction of Martinique, one of the French West Indian islands, which was compelled to surrender after a gallant resistance. In those stirring times a regiment seldom remained long in one place, and in 1812 we find them in Spain, where they were present at the battle of Albuera and the siege of Badajoz, which was defended by the French with obstinate valour. Many of our men perished in the breaches, and every species of missile was hurled upon them as they attempted to scale the walls. “Never, probably, since the invention of gunpowder,” says Colonel Jones, “were men more exposed to its action than those assembled to assault the breaches.” For two hours, shells, hand-grenades, and bags of gunpowder were hurled upon our men as they crowded into the ditch; when they rushed up the breach their passage was arrested by ponderous beams bristling with sword-blades, and loose planks studded with sharp iron points, which tilted up the moment they were trodden on, and precipitated the assailants into the ditch below. Again and again our men rushed against the glittering sword-blades and were shot down by the enemy from the walls above; the rear pressed on, and tried to make a bridge of the writhing bodies of their slaughtered comrades. About midnight 2000 men had fallen, and Wellington was about to give orders to retire, when he received notice that Picton had taken the castle by escalade. “Then the place is ours,” he exultingly exclaimed, and sent word to Picton to retain the castle at all hazards. The attack was continued, and next morning Philippon, the French general, surrendered to Lord Fitzroy Somerset, better known to this generation as Lord Raglan. We must draw the veil of sorrow over the fearful scenes which were enacted by an infuriated soldiery when the devoted city fell into their hands; for three days all discipline was at an end, and the tumult only subsided when the rioters were exhausted with their excesses. We cannot give the exact loss of the Welsh Fusiliers, but, in common with all the other British regiments engaged in this siege, they suffered severely.

The next memorable event in the Peninsular War was the battle of Salamanca, which was fought on the 22nd of July, 1812. On the 16th of June, Wellington overtook the French near the right bank of the Tormes, the enemy retreating across the river. For several days both armies remained encamped on the opposite banks without molesting one another, and the most friendly intercourse sprang up between them. They were in the habit of conversing together and exchanging provisions, as if they had been on the best of terms. When the warfare was resumed, the French officers said, on parting, “We have met and been for some time friends; we are about to separate and may meet as enemies; as friends we have received each other warmly; as enemies we shall do the same.” Warm indeed was the reception which they gave to one another on the blood-stained field of Salamanca. At first the French had the advantage, but an unguarded movement on the part of Marmont, their general, having caught the eagle eye of Wellington, he joyfully exclaimed, “At last I have them,” and gave orders for a general charge. The French, remembering their former promise, presented a bold front to their assailants, who, pouring a destructive volley into the opposing columns, rushed upon them with the bayonet. Such was the impetus of the English attack that the close phalanx bent before it, swayed backward and forward like a ship struck upon a heavy sea, then broke and scattered over the plain. The French were completely routed, with the loss of 14,000 men. The victors behaved with great humanity to the vanquished; many of the fugitives, pursued by the cavalry, fled to the British lines for protection, which was readily granted. The infantry covered their retreat, and protected them from the sabres of the horsemen; once within their lines, they were safe from injury and insult; not a single man was bayoneted, plundered, or molested. It is pleasing to record such instances of humanity; it shows that the exchange of hospitalities on the banks of the Tonnes was not forgotten in the hour of battle. The Royal Welsh and the other British regiments engaged in this battle were permitted to inscribe Salamanca on their colours in memory of their victory.

The next year, on the 20th of June, the 23rd saw the Peninsular campaign brought to a close by the battle of Vittoria. The French were commanded by Jourdan, and the English by Wellington. Our troops were completely victorious, and the expulsion of the French from Spain was one of the fruits of their victory. The French fought resolutely till Picton gave the word to charge, when our men bore down all opposition before them, and spread death and consternation through the ranks of the enemy, who fled with such precipitancy that they left all their artillery and baggage behind. Joseph Bonaparte, placed by his brother Napoleon on the throne of Spain, was present at the battle; he only escaped by leaving his carriage and mounting a swift horse. The royal calash fell into the hands of the 10th Hussars, who found in it all the portable valuables of his regalia. The whole of his equipage and treasures fell into the hands of the British. The booty was enormous; it comprised all that could minister to the appetites or pleasures of a sensual monarch. The most delicate wines and the rarest luxuries fell into the hands of our soldiers, who exchanged many a joke at the expense of the luxurious monarch as they regaled themselves with them; poodles, parrots, and monkeys were among the captives of war. Grim old Peninsulars amused themselves after the battle in getting up a sort of masquerade, in which they appeared in the uniforms of French generals, or displayed the most recent inventions of the Parisian mode on their somewhat ungainly persons, and Wellington allowed them to indulge their grotesque humour. And when it was reported to him that some of them had seized the French military chest and were loading themselves with money, “Let them have it,” he said; “they deserve it, though it were ten times more.” Among the other spoil was the bâton of Marshal Jourdan, which Wellington sent with his despatches to the Prince Regent: soon after this he received the bâton of an English field-marshal along with a very handsome letter. “The British army,” said the prince, “will hail it with enthusiasm, while the whole universe will acknowledge those valorous efforts which have so imperiously called for it.” While this victory made Wellington a field-marshal, it procured for the Welsh Fusiliers the honour of adding Vittoria to the other glorious names inscribed on their colours.

The battle of Vittoria was attended with the most important results. The scattered remains of the French army were driven through the rugged passes of the Pyrenees, and the British army advanced rapidly in the direction of France. The enemy sometimes endeavoured to rally in their retreat, but were successfully driven from the positions they occupied by the impetuosity of the Welshmen and Highlanders, whose early training specially fitted them to excel in this mountain warfare. The constant success of the British army led many to expect that France would yield, and allow Wellington to cross the frontier without further resistance; but Napoleon, elated with his recent successes in Germany, appointed Soult to the command of the army of the Pyrenees, and that able general displayed such vigour and skill that there was some danger at first of the British losing all the fruits of the great victory of the 20th of June. On the 25th of July, 15,000 French troops attacked the British, about 3000 in number, at the pass of Maya, and for ten hours our men maintained the conflict, notwithstanding their inferiority in numbers. When their ammunition was exhausted they hurled stones at their assailants, who were arrested by the mass of dead and dying by which the pass was blocked, and were at length repulsed by the aid of some reinforcements. The pass of Maya will long be remembered in the annals of the British army; our soldiers fought as bravely there as the Greeks did at Thermopylæ.

We must omit the other stirring events of the Pyrenees, in all of which the Royal Welsh acted a distinguished part, and enjoyed many advantages over others unaccustomed to a mountainous country. They had many extraordinary adventures, being sometimes enveloped in the mists that shrouded the summits of the mountains, and brought into fierce collision with the enemy, who were ignorant of their approach. After the two battles of Lauroren, the tide of success turned against Soult, who was almost taken prisoner at St. Estenau. Such were the skilful arrangements of the English general here, that the French army would have had to surrender had not three marauding British soldiers crossed the ridge which concealed their comrades, and thus warned the enemy of their danger. On such small causes do great events hinge! The cupidity of three Englishmen saved the whole French army. On the 1st of August Soult abandoned the Spanish territory, with the loss of 15,000 men; and on the 7th of September Wellington planted the victorious standard of Britain on the soil of France. Seven thousand of the allies were buried among the mountain passes of the Pyrenees, and the different regiments engaged were allowed to preserve the remembrance of this campaign on their colours.

The Royal Welsh next appear at the battle of the Nivelle, where the French, after obstinate resistance, were driven back, and the allies, profiting by this success, crossed the river, and established themselves between it and the sea. A succession of heavy rains rendered all movements impracticable for a time, and Soult did all he could to strengthen his position. Frost having set in, Wellington moved his forces on the 14th of February, 1814, and, in the course of sixteen days, constructed a bridge across the Adour, passed five large and several small rivers, traversed eighty miles of ground, drove the enemy from their strongest positions, was successful in one great battle and two combats, took many prisoners, and forced Soult to evacuate Bayonne. We can only enumerate his successes, and refer our readers to the history of those times for minuter details. The great battle was fought at Orthès on the 27th of February. At first, victory seemed to declare in favour of the French, but the English general bided his time with imperturbable calmness till a movement of the enemy placed them in his power. Every point was carried; the French retired at first in an orderly manner, till their left wing was attacked, when they were thrown into confusion, and ran off at full speed. The English pursued them for three miles till they reached Sault de Navailles, where scarcely any remains of Soult’s army were to be seen. The loss of the enemy was estimated at 8000 men in killed, wounded, and prisoners, while that of the allies did not exceed 1600. Here, as usual, the Welsh Fusiliers were foremost in the fray, and their bravery was rewarded by the addition of Nivelle and Orthès to the other historic names on their colours.

Then followed the bloody and needless battle of Toulouse. We need not here stop to inquire who was the cause of that fearful carnage, or to refute the foolish assertion that the French gained a victory. Such a statement is inconsistent with the fact that Soult had to abandon Toulouse and all his lines of defence, while Wellington attained the object he had in view. It is said that Soult knew before the battle that Napoleon had abdicated, and that his only motive for fighting was a desire to retrieve his fame as a general; but we think no brave man—and Soult was brave—would sacrifice the lives of thousands for so unworthy a motive. After a furious contest the enemy were driven from the heights; again and again they returned to the attack with a gallantry which nothing but British valour could resist. At length they desisted from the attempt, and the field of battle remained in possession of the allies. That same evening Soult evacuated the city, and the following morning the allies took possession of it. In the course of the day they received official notice that Napoleon had abdicated. Then our soldiers began to think of home and all its endearments; they had done enough for fame, and a grateful country was waiting to welcome them to their native shores. The soft peace march, “Home, brothers, home,” must have sounded sweetly in the ears of the Royal Welsh and the other veterans, who, under the command of their able leader, had liberated two kingdoms, fought eight pitched battles against the bravest soldiers and most skilful generals of France, reduced many fortresses by assault, and at length established themselves in the two principal cities in the South of France. Britain had issued from all her trials the most triumphant nation in the world, and had welcomed back with acclamation the wearied soldiers who had done so much to sustain her honour. Such men had a right to rest on their laurels. Their rest was brief. The caged eagle escaped from Elba. The veterans of the Peninsula had to buckle on their armour again. The Royal Welsh took part in that brief but glorious campaign which was brought to a close at Waterloo. Then for a period of forty years they had no opportunity of displaying their courage. Now followed the Crimean war, and deeds equalling “Greek and Roman fame,” which earned for some of them the proud distinction of the Victoria Cross.

The gallant Welshmen gained their first Victoria Cross at the battle of the Alma. Russell’s picturesque letters and Kinglake’s bewitching pages have rendered many readers familiar with the chief incidents of that engagement; and it is here unnecessary for us to dwell upon them, for in future pages we shall relate the circumstances under which Colonel (then Captain) Bell gained at that first Crimean fight the honourable distinction of the reward “For Valour.”