In the present work there is a straining after novelty with no capable designers at the helm. We ought, as a national duty, to encourage to our utmost any industry that can be worked in the rural districts. Let the Education Authorities frankly acknowledge that our Art Schools cannot turn out lace designers, and import one of our clever French neighbours to help the Devonian workers. It would, after all, only be a case of L’histoire se répète toujours since the days of Benedict Biscop, who imported vestments which gave the English their first lesson in embroidery.
Alice Dryden.
“THE BLOODY ELEVENTH”;
With Notes on County Defence.
By Lieut.-Col. P. F. S. Amery.
The Devonshire Regiment, of which the Haytors now form a battalion, was raised so far back as 1685, has seen a vast amount of service, and has ever served with distinction before the enemy in the two centuries of its history. During the rebellion of the Duke of Monmouth, in 1685, many new corps were raised, and among them a regiment of musketeers and pikemen by the Duke of Beaufort. It was composed of loyal men of Devon, Somerset, and Dorset, and was known as “The Duke of Beaufort’s Musketeers.” In the same year, after the rebellion had been crushed at Sedgemoor, the Duke resigned the colonelcy to his son, the Marquis of Worcester. At that time regiments were named after their colonels. The corps was distinguished by tawny-coloured ribbons in their hats, scarlet coats lined with tawny-coloured shalloon, tawny-coloured breeches, stockings, and sashes. Lord Worcester was succeeded in 1687 by Lord Montgomery, who was devoted to the interests of James II. In 1688 the regiment was in garrison at Hull, when the Prince of Orange landed at Torbay. The Governor of Hull was also a supporter of James. The regiment, however, led by its Lieutenant-Colonel, Sir John Hanmer, declared with the inhabitants of Hull for the Prince of Orange and the Protestant party. Sir John Hanmer was made Colonel, and in 1689 took part with his regiment in the famous relief of Londonderry. In 1690 it served under the eye of William III. at the Battle of the Boyne, where it repulsed three cavalry charges and materially assisted to secure the Protestant succession. In 1707, under Colonel Hill, it was present at the terrible battle of Almanza, in Portugal, where, after performing deeds of valour, it was overpowered and cut to pieces. Twenty-six officers and nearly all the men were killed, wounded, or taken. In 1709 it served under Marlborough in the Netherlands, took part in the siege of Mons, where it greatly distinguished itself in repulsing a sortie, in which ten officers and 150 men were lost. In 1715, under Colonel Montague, it took part against the rebellion under the Earl of Mar in Scotland, and at the battle of Dunblane lost eight officers and 108 men. In 1738, Colonel Cornwallis was appointed, and as Cornwallis’ regiment took part in the war of Austrian succession. It was present at the battle of Dettingen, in 1743, where George II. in person commanded the army, and received a French cavalry charge in line. Cornwallis’ and another battalion executed a difficult manœuvre, which brought the enemy’s cavalry under fire. The name of Dettingen is borne on the colours. In 1745, at Fontenoy, it again broke through the French lines, and almost secured victory; its losses were seven officers and 212 men. It was re-called to England during the Pretender’s rebellion in Scotland, and sent again into the Low Countries in 1746, where, as Graham’s regiment, it took a prominent and honourable part in the desperate battle of Roucoux against the renowned Marshal Saxe, where it lost twelve officers and 206 men.
1st July, 1751.—A royal warrant was issued, regulating the clothing and colours of every regiment. It was now numbered as 11th Regiment of Foot, and the “facings spoken of as being green,” but when they were changed from tawny is not known. The drummers were clothed in green, faced with red. 1756.—The strength was increased to twenty companies, which were divided into two battalions. 1758.—The second battalion was constituted the Sixty-fourth Regiment, illustrating the birth of new regiments. The 11th took part in the Seven Years’ War, 1760 to 1763, under the Prince of Brunswick. In 1782 county titles were given to regiments in order to facilitate recruiting, and the 11th was designated the “North Devon Regiment,” and the officers were enjoined to cultivate an intercourse with that part of the county, so as to create a mutual attachment between the inhabitants and the regiment. Exactly a century afterwards similar orders and changes took place for a like purpose. In 1793, when England was threatened with invasion by the French Republic, and volunteers were being drilled, the 11th was defending Toulon against Napoleon. It was evacuated after a gallant defence by twelve thousand men of five different nations, over a line of outposts extending fifteen miles in circumference, against an army of between thirty and forty thousand men. The 11th formed part of the garrison under Lord Mulgrave, and distinguished itself in several sorties, especially that on 30th November, 1793, when the French were driven from their batteries and guns spiked. In this affair, Napoleon Bonaparte, then an artillery officer, received a bayonet wound in his thigh. Thus the first contact the future Emperor made with a British battalion was with our Devon Regiment; and he did not again come face to face with us until the Battle of Waterloo, although he is said to have watched some of the battles in the Pyrenees from a distance. In 1798, it was sent to Ostend on a very hazardous expedition to cut the Great Canal; it did its work, but was unable to re-embark owing to a storm, and 24 officers and 456 men were captured. In 1800, the 11th was sent to the West Indies, took part in the capture of St. Bartholomew, St. Martin’s, St. Thomas, St. John, and Santa Cruz; in 1807 to Madeira. In 1808, a second battalion was again added, which formed a part of the Walcheren expedition in 1809. At the taking of Flushing they took a set of brass drums belonging to the 11th French Regiment, and enlisted the musicians of a Prussian band serving in the French army, when all the men joined with their instruments. In 1810 and 1811, they took part in the Peninsula War. On 22nd July, 1812, the regiment won glory at the decisive battle of Salamanca, which led to the French being driven out of Spain. The 11th, 53rd, and 61st Regiments formed a brigade in the Sixth Division, commanded by Major-General Clinton. Lord Wellington had noticed that in manœuvring his troops the French marshal had so extended his forces as to be unable to support each other. To take advantage of this mistake, the 11th, as leading its brigade, was pushed forward under a heavy fire, and was soon engaged in a desperate struggle, and drove the French from their ground. At the close of the action a French division made a very determined stand to recover the retreat. The 6th British Division again attacked, led by the 11th, and as the darkness came on overpowered the French, who fled in confusion. They lost 16 officers, 325 men; only 4 officers and 67 men came out unwounded. The 11th captured a battery of guns and a green standard without an eagle. The 122nd French Regiment, which was opposed to the 11th with two battalions, numbering 2,200 strong, the next day only mustered 200 men; they were mostly taken prisoners. Captain Lord Clinton, uncle of our late Lord Lieutenant, was despatched with the news direct from the field, and carried with him the green standard. He landed at Plymouth, and in a chaise and four rattled up the road to London. As he passed through the towns on the way he exhibited the standard, and persons now living in Ashburton remember seeing him pass through; he was at that time Lord of the Borough of Ashburton. The 11th earned the nickname of “The Bloody Eleventh” from the part it had taken in that terrible day. It suffered severely in the battles in the Pyrenees and following movements, which resulted in driving the French across the frontier. It was not present at Waterloo, and in 1816 the Second Battalion was disbanded at Gibraltar, the men being incorporated in the First Battalion. In 1825, new colours were presented to the regiment whilst at Cork, on which were added the names of the Peninsula battles. During the years of peace it moved from station to station, and was not in the Crimea. During the Indian Mutiny a Second Battalion was again raised, but did not take part. In 1879–1880, the 11th took part in the Afghan War; in 1881, the regiment ceased to be the 11th and became the “Devonshire Regiment,” but the green facings were changed to white, in common with other line regiments, and are alone borne by the junior battalion, viz., the Haytor Volunteer Battalion. The Devonshire Territorial Regiment now consists of two line battalions for foreign service, two militia battalions, five volunteer battalions, of which the 1st and 2nd are rifles, total nine.
The reformation and development of the volunteer force in the middle and latter half of the nineteenth century, with its embodiment into the territorial line regiments, has tended to increase the local esprit de corps throughout the kingdom, and especially in Devon, where the movement had its birth. A short sketch of the formation and growth of the volunteers in Devon will, therefore, not only be of local interest, but will be an illustration of the steps taken in times of danger for the defence of our shores in the times of our grandfathers, and continued through the years of peace under our late imperial Sovereign, Queen Victoria.
Plymouth and its immediate neighbourhood is the cradle in which the spirit of volunteer defence has been nurtured; frequently before the sixteenth century have French and Spaniards made or attempted landings there for pillage or destruction, but in each case they suffered severely from the resolute resistance of the townspeople. In the Civil War the inhabitants formed themselves into trained bands and resisted the Royalist siege. In 1745, when Prince Charlie, the young Pretender, landed in Scotland and gained the battle of Prestonpans, Plymouth again raised a body of volunteers; and in 1759, when France determined on a descent on England and had 18,000 men ready to embark on board the French fleet, Plymouth again raised two companies of volunteers to strengthen the militia, one of which undertook to clothe and feed itself. The destruction of the French fleet by Admiral Hawke, at the mouth of Quiberon Bay, and the decisive battle of Minden, where the 20th, or East Devon Regiment, learned its celebrated “Minden Yell,” removed for a time the fear of French invasion. When, therefore, in 1779, the combined fleets of France and Spain held for a time the possession of the English Channel, and the gallant Elliot was holding the rock of Gibraltar against famine and bombardment, and most of our army was fighting in America, the Spanish and French fleets suddenly appeared off Plymouth, causing great alarm for the safety of the dockyard and the numerous French prisoners in the port, the inhabitants were again ready to enroll themselves. Mr. William Bastard, of Kitley, the great grandfather of the present Mr. B. J. B. Bastard, the first Lieutenant-Colonel of the Haytor Volunteer battalion, offered to raise a force of 500 men as a corps of Fencibles, and in two days had 1,500 young men to select from, who wished for the honour of serving under him. On 23rd August, 1779, he escorted 1,300 war prisoners to Exeter for safety, and on the 25th delivered them to the commanding officer there, and at once returned with his regiment to Plymouth. I have been unable to find any traditions of this march preserved in the towns through which they must have passed, but we may be sure at the time it caused much excitement along the road and at the places they rested the two nights. The whole of this eventful period at Plymouth is well described by Miss Peard in her charming little book, Mother Molly. The example of Plymouth was followed by the citizens of Exeter, who also raised a Volunteer corps. For these services the King, on the 24th September, signed a warrant for a baronetcy for Mr. Bastard, who, however, modestly declined the honour. The supremacy in the Channel was soon restored by the return of the fleet, and the victories of Admiral Rodney rendered our shores safe for a time.
In 1794, the effects of the French Revolution had made themselves felt in England, and several elaborate plots were formed to supersede Parliament by a National Convention after the French model, and to abolish the Monarchy. Great distress prevailed in the country, which always forms the best weapon of revolutionists. The rate of interest rose to seventeen per cent.; the Bank of England only saved itself by the suspension of cash payment. Monge, the French Minister of Marine, threatened to land in England with 50,000 red caps of liberty, and to overthrow the Government of the country.
It was at this crisis that the Government called on the different counties to take steps for the defence of the kingdom, and a meeting of magistrates was called by Lord Fortescue, the Lord Lieutenant, and presided over by the High Sheriff, J. S. Pode, Esq., on the 22nd April, 1794. 1795, 7th January, returns showed two troops of cavalry and twenty-three companies of infantry to have been raised and equipped by subscription. March 23rd, the Lord Lieutenant, Earl Fortescue, ordered monthly returns from each corps. 7th April, 1795, the twelve corps in the eastern part of the county were formed into a battalion, under Col. Mackenzie. 2nd June, Colonel Orchard, of Hartland Abbey, reported that he had inspected his own regiment, viz., corps at Fremington, Westleigh, Northam, Hartland, and two companies at Bideford. This appears to be the six western companies of the north battalion. 1796 returns showed two troops of cavalry, twenty-two companies of infantry—1,651 men. In this year an attempt was made by the French to land in Bantry Bay, which, however, failed, and the expedition was glad to get back to Brest, with the loss of four ships of the line and eight frigates. Early in 1797, another expedition, under Tate, appeared in the Bristol Channel, off Ilfracombe, with the intention of burning Bristol. The North Devon Volunteers turned out with great zeal, and were prepared to dispute the landing on their coast. The French, however, turned northward and landed in Wales, where they soon surrendered to a far inferior force of militia, yeomanry, and volunteers, commanded by Lord Cawdor, and supported by a reserve of Welsh women in red cloaks. 1798 saw the nation in the most serious crisis of its history. The French Directory having made terms with the European powers, were able to turn all their attention to the invasion and conquest of the British Isles. Former expeditions were designed to stir up the disloyal and assist them to overthrow the Government, but now a French army was to land on our shores. The Spanish and Dutch fleets had been pressed into the French service, but British courage and seamanship had effectually disposed of them in the great naval battles of St. Vincent and Camperdown. Nevertheless, an army was organized, named the Army of England, and distributed along the French coast in readiness for embarkation. Flat-bottomed boats were prepared for landing troops and for service on our rivers. The bankers of Paris were called upon to advance a loan on the security of English property. The greatest calamity, however, was a general mutiny in the Channel Fleet at the Nore, which expelled their officers, elected their own admiral and captains, hoisted the red flag, and blockaded the mouth of the Thames; they seriously discussed the expediency of making the whole over to the French. If England could not depend on her fleet she must fall. Had not prompt measures been taken and the mutiny quelled, invasion on a large scale would certainly have taken place. To add to these troubles a formidable rebellion broke out in Ireland, and its leaders arranged for the support of the French army, under Hocke, a general of great experience. A brigade of 1,000 men actually landed in Ireland, under General Humbert, beat the local troops, and advanced into the country, but were compelled to surrender to Lord Cornwallis; and Admiral Warren caught a French fleet with 3,000 troops on their way to support them, and only one of the nine ships returned to France. Such being the state of public affairs, it cannot be denied that our great grandparents had good grounds for alarm. There is hardly a district or family in Devon but has some tradition of that period. Nervous people were afraid to take off their clothes at night. Old gentlemen provided themselves with hollow walking-sticks filled with guineas to carry with them in their flight. At Totnes my great-grandfather’s family permanently engaged a post-chaise in which the women and children might escape to Bristol; the family plate was packed ready to be taken off, and a belt of guineas provided. The schoolboys enjoyed it, for there was no school, as the seniors were too much engaged in obtaining and discussing news to attend to them. The saying still exists at Totnes, “Going to Paignton to meet the French,” for “meeting trouble half-way.” Beacon fires were prepared to spread the news of any landing. A story is told of a tramp at Dawlish who, in lighting his pipe, set a hay rick on fire; the watchers at the nearest beacon took it for a signal of an invasion, and lighted their fires, which were answered in every direction, and the people sprang to arms until “That time of slumber was as bright and busy as the day.” One old sailor, however, had his wits about him, when his daughter shook him out of a deep sleep with the news that the French had landed. Rubbing his eyes, he told her to go and look at the weather-cock. She came back saying the wind was from the north. “I thought so,” said he, “and so it was yesterday. The French can’t land with this wind.” And so the ancient mariner turned round and went to sleep again.