THE BATTLE OF DORKING.

New Zealand Herald, Volume VIII, Issue 2342, 28 July 1871, Page 3

THE BATTLE OF DORKING.

(Continued.) THE BATTLE. "A tremendous thunderstorm, which had been gathering all day, bursr. on us, and a torrent of almost blinding rain came down, which obscured the view even more than the smoke, while the crashing of the thunder and the glare of the lightning could be heard and seen even above the roar and flashing of the artillery. Once the mist lifted, and I saw for a minute an attack on Box-hill, on the other side of the gap on our left. It was like the scene at a theatre —a curtain of smoke all round and a clear gap in the centre, with a sudden gleam of evening sunshine lighting it up. The ste*p smooth slope of the hill was crowded with the dark-blue figures of the enemy, whom I now saw for the first time— an irregular outline in front, but very solid in rear; the whole body was moving forward by fits and starts, the men firing and advancing, the oiliccM waving their swords, the columns closing up and gradually making way. Our people were almost concealed by the bushes at the top, whence the sinoke and their fire could be seen proceeding: presently from these bushes on the crest came out a red line, and dashed down the brow of the hill, a flame of fire belching out from the front as it advanced. The enemy hesitated, gave way, and finally ran back in a confused crowd down the hill. Then the mist covered the scene, but the glimpse of this splendid charge was inspiriting, and I hoped we should show the same coolness when it came to our turn. It was about this time that our skirmishers fell back, a good many wounded, some limping along by themselves, others helped. The main body retired in very fair order, halting to turn round and fire ; we could see a mounted officer of the Guards riding up and down encouraging tuem to be steady. Now camd out turn. For a few minutes we saw nothing, but a rattle of bullets came through the rain and mist, mostly, however, passing over the bank. We began to fire in reply, stepping up against the bank to fire, and stooping down to load; our brigademajor rode up with an order, and the word was passed through the men to reserve our fire. In a very few moments it mast have been that, when ordered to stand, we could see the helmet-spikes and then the figures of the skirmishers as they came on : a lot of them there appeared to be, five or six deep I should say, but in loose order, each man stopping to aim and fire, and then coming forward a little. Just then the brigad'er clattered on horseback up the lane. ' Now, then, gentlemen, give it them hot,' he cried; and fire away wa did, as fast as ever we were able. A perfect storm of bullets seemed to be flying about us too, and I thought each moment must be the last; escape seemed impossible, but I saw 110 one fall, for I was too busy, and so were we all, to look to the right or left, but loaded and fired as fast as I could. How long this went on I know not—it could not have been long; neither side could have lasted many minutes under such a fire, but it ended by the enemy gradually falling back, and as soon as we saw this we raised a tremendous shout, and some of us jumped up on the bank to give them our parting shots. Suddenly the order was passed down the line to cease firing, and we soon discovered the cause ; a battalion of the Guards was charging obliquely across from our left across our front. It was, I expect, their flank attack as much as our fire which had turned back the enemy ; and it was a splendid sight to see their steady line as they advanced slowly across the smooth lawn below 11s, firing as they went, but as steidy as if on parade. We felt a great elation at this moment; it seemed as if the battle was won. Just then somebody called out to look to the wounded, and for the first time I turned to glance down the rank along the lane. Then I saw that we had not beaten back the attack without loss. Immediately before me lay Lawford of my office, dead on his back from a bullet through his forehead, his hand still grasping his rifle. At every step was some friend or acquaintance killed or wounded, and a few paces down the lane I found Trarers, sitting with his back against the bank. A ball had gone through his lungs, and blood was coming from his mouth. I was lifting him, but the cry of agony he gave stopped me. I then saw that this was not his only wound; his thigh was smashed by a bullet (which must have hit him when standing on the bank), and the blood streaming down mixed in a muddy puddle with the rain-water under him. Still he could not be left here, so, lifting him up as well as I could, I carried him through the gat e which led out of tbe lane at the back to where our camp hospital was in the rear. The movement must have caused him awful ng"ny, for I could not support the broken thigh, and he could not restrain his groans, brave fellow though he wa§; but how I carried him at all I cannot make out, for he was a much bigger man than myself; but I had not gone far, one of a stream of our fellows, all on the same errand, when a bandsman and Wood met me, bringing a hurdle as a stretcher, and on this we placed him. Wood had just time to tell me that he had got a curt down in the hollow, and would endeavour to take off his master at onco to Kingston, when a staff officer rode up to, call us to the ranks. ' Yoa really must nob straggle in this wjy, gentlemen,' he said ; • pray keep your ranks.' iiuc'we can't leave

our wounded to be trodden dowa and die,' cried one of our fellows. 'Beat off the enemy first, sir,' he replied. "Gentlemen, no, pray, join your regiments, or we shall be a regular mob.' And no doubt he did not j speak too soon; for besides our fellows straggling to the rear, lots of volunteers from the regiments in reserve were running forward to help, till the whole ground was dotted with groups of men. I hastened back to my post, " ut just time to notice that all the ground in our rear was occupied by a thick mass of troops much more numerous than in the morning, and a column was moving down to the left of our line, to the ground now held by the Guards. All this time, although the musketry had slackened, the artillery fire seemed heavier than ever; the shells screamed overhead or burst around; and I confess to feeling quite a relief at getting back to the friendly shelter of the lane. Looking over the bank, I noticed for the first time the frightful execution our fire had created. The space in front was thickly strewed with dead and badly wounded, and beyond the bodies of the fallen enemy could just be seen—for it was now getting dusk— tlie bearskins and red coats of our own gallant Guards scattered over the slope, and marking the line of their victorious advance. But hardly a minute could have passed in thus looking over the field, when our brigademajor came moving up tha lane on foot (I suppose his horse had been shot), crying 'Stand to your arms, Volunteers ! they're coming on again and we found ourselves a second time engaged in a hot musketry fire, ilow long it went on I cannot now remember, but we could distinguish clearly the thick line of skirmishers, about 60 paces off, and mounted officers among them ; and we seemed to be keeping them well in check, for they were quite exposed to our fire, whi'e we were protected nearly up to our shoulders, when—l know not how-I became sensible that something had gone wrong. 'We are taken in flank!' called out some one; and looking along the left, sure enough there were dark figures jumping over the bank into the lane, and firing along our line. The volunteers in reserve, who had come down to take the place of the Guards, must have given way at this point; the enemy's skirmishers had got through our line, and turned our left flank. How the next move came about I cannot recollect, or whether it was without orders, but in a short time we found ourselves out of the lane, and drawn up in a straggling line about 30 yards in rear of it—at our end, that is, the other flank had fallen back a good deal more—and the enemy were lining the hedge, and numbers of them passing over and forming up on our side. Beyond our left a confused mass were retreating, firing as they went, followed by the advancing line of the enemy. We stood in this way for a short space, firing at random as fast as we could. Our colonel and major must have been shot, for there was no one to give an order, when somebody on horseback called out from behind—l think it must have been the brigadier—' Now, then, Volunteers ! give a British cheer, and go at them—charge !' and, with a shout, we rushed at the enemy. Some of them run, some stopped to meet üb, and for a moment it was a real hand to-hand fight. I felt a sharp sting in my leg as I drove my bayonet right through the man in front of me. I confess I shut my eyes for I just got a glimpse of the poor wretch as he fell back, his eyes starting out of his head, and, savage though we were, the sight was almost too horrible to look at. But the struggle wm over in a second, and we had cleared the ground again right up to the rear hedge of the lane. Had we gone on, I believe we might have recovered the but we were all out of order; there was no one to say what to do ; tlie enemy began to line the hedge and open fire, and thoy were streaming past our left; and how it came about I know not, but we found ourselves falling back towards our right rear, scarce any semblance of a Hue remaining, and the volunteers who had given way on our left mixed up with us, and adding to the confusion. It was now nearly dark. On the slopes which we were retreating to was a large mass of reserves, drawn up iu columns. Some of the leading files of these, mistaking us for the enemy, began firing at us ; our fellows, crying out to them to stop, ran towards their ranks, and in a few moments the whole slope of the hill became a scene of confusion that I cannot attempt to describe, regiments and detachments mixed up in hopeless disorder. Moat of us, I believe, turned towards the enemy and fired away our few remaining cartridges ; but it was too late to take aim, fortunately for us, or the guns which the enetny had brought up through the gap, and were firing point-blank, would have done more damage. As it was, we could see little more than ihe bright flashes of their fire. Iu our confusion we had jammed up a line regiment immediately behind us, and its colonel and some staff officers were ia v»in trying to make a passage for it, and their shouts to us to march to the rear and clear a road could be heard above the roar of the guns and the confused babel of sound. At last a mounted officer pushed his way through, followed by a company in sections, the men brushing past with firm set faces, as if on a desperate task ; and the battalion, when it got clear, appeared to deploy aud advance down the slope. I have also a dim recollection of seeing the Life Guards trot past the front, and push 011 towards the to*n—a last desperate attempt to save the day—before we left the field. Our adjutant, who had got separated from our flank of the regiment in the confusion, now came up, and managed to lead us, or at any rate some of us, up to the crest of the hill in the rear, to re-form, as he said ; but there we met a vast crowd of volunteers, militia, and waggons, all hurrying rearward from the direction of the big house, and we were borne in the stream for a mile at least before it was possible to stop. At last the adjutant led us to an open space a little off the line of fugilives, aud there we re-formed the remains of the companies. Telling us to halt, he rode off to try and obtain orders, and find out where the rest of our brigade was. From this point, a spur of high ground running off from the main plateau, we looked down through the dim twilight into the battle-field below. Artillery fire was still going on. We could see the flashes from the guns on both sides, and now and then a stray shell came screaming up and burst near us, but we were beyond the sound of musketry. This halt first gave us time to think about what had happened. The long day of expectancy had been succeeded bj the excitement of battle; and when each minute may be your last, you do not think much about other people, nor when you are facing another man with a rifle have you time to consider whether he or you is the invader, or that you are fighting for your homes and hearths. All fighting is pretty much alike, I suspect, as to sentiment, when once it begins. But now we had time for reflection, and although we did not yet quite understand how far the day had gone against us, an uneasy feeling of self condemnation must have come up in the minds of most of us ; while, above all, we now began to realize what the loss of this battle meant to the country. Then, too, we knew not what had become of all our wounded comrades. Reaction, too, set in after the fatigue and excitement. For myself, I had found out for the first time that besides the bayonet wound in my leg, a bullet had gone threugh my left arm, just below the shoulder and outside the bone. I remember feeling something like a blow just wnen we losu the lane, but the wound passed unnoticed till now, when the bleeding had stopped and the shirt was sticking to the wound."

" This half-hour seemed an age, and while we stood on this knoll the endless tramp of men and rambling of carts along the downs beside us told their own tale. The whole army was falling back. At last we could discern the adjutant riding up to us out of the dark. The army was to retreat, and take up a position on Epsom Downs, he said; we should join in the march, and try and find our brigade in the morning ; so we turned into the throng ajain, and made our way on as best we could. A few scraps of news he gave us as ho rode alongside of our leading section; the »rmy had held its position well for a time, but the enemy had at last broken through the line between us and Guilford, as well as in our front, and had poured his men throughfc he point gained, throwing the

line into confusion, and the first army corps near G-uildford were also falling back to avoid being outflanked. The regular troops were holding the rear; we were to push on as fast as possible to get out of their way, and allow them to make an orderly retreat in the morning. The gallant old lord commanding our corps had been badly wounded early in the day, he heard, ani carried off the field. The G-uards had suffered dreadfully; the household cavalry ha ' ridden down the cuirassiers, but had got into broken grouud and been awfully cut ud. Such were fhe scraps of news passed down our weary column. What had become of our wounded no one knew, and no one liked to ask. So we trudged on. It must have been midnight when we reached Leatherhead. Here we left the onen ground and took to the road, and the block became greater. We pushed our way painfully along; several trams passed slowly ahead along the railway by the roadside, containing the wounded, wo supposed—such of them, at least, as were lucky enough to be picked up. It was daylight when we got to Epsom. The night had been bright and clear after the storm, with a cool air, which,blowing through my soaking clothes, chilled me to the bone. My wounded leg was stiff and sore, and I was ready to drop with exhaustion and hunger. ?for were my comrades in much better case ; we had eaten nothing since breakfast the day before, and the bread we had put by had been washed away by tlie storm ; only a little pulp remained at the bottom of my ba:'. The tobacco was all too wet to smoke. In this plight we were all creeping along, when the adjudant guided us into a field by the roadside, to rest awhile, aud we lay down exhausted on the sloppy grass. Ihe roll was here taken, and only 180 answered out of nearly 500 present on the morning of the battle. How many of these were killed and wounded no one could tell; but it was certain many must have got separated in the confusion of the evening. While resting here, we saw pass by in the crowd of vehicle-' and men, a cart ladcu with commissariat, stores, driven by a man iu uniform. ' Food ! cried some one, and a dozen volunteers jumped up and surrounded the cart. The driver tried to whip them off; but he was pulled otf his seat, and the contents of the cart thrown out in an instant. They were preserved meats in tins, which wo tore open with our bayonets. The meat had been cooked before, I think ; at any rate we devoured it. Shortly after this a general came bv with three or four staff-oiii.-ers. He stopped and spoke to our adjutant, and then rode into the field. 'My lads,' said he, 'you shall join rnv division for the present : fall in, and follow the regiment that is now passing.' \V« rose up, fell in by companies, each about 20 strong, and turned once more into the stream moviiig along the road ; regiments, single volunteers or militiauicn, country people making off, some srith bundles, some without, a few ia carts, but most on foot ; here and there waggons of stores, with men sifting wherever there was room, others crammed with wounded so liiera. Many blocks occured from horses falling, or carts breaking do am and filling up the road. In the town the confusion was even worse, for all the houses seemed full of volunteers and militiamen, wounded or resting, or frying to find food, and the streets were almost choked up. Some officers were in vain trying to restore order, but the task seemed a hopeless one. One or two volunteer regiments >vhich had arrived from the north the previous night, and had been halted there for orders, were drawn up along the roadside steadily enough, and some of the retreating regiments, including ours, may have preserved the semblance of discipline, but for the most part the mass pushing to the rear was a mere mob. The regulars, or what remained cf them, were now, I believe, all in the rear, to hold tho advancing army in check. A few officers among such a crowd could do nothing. To add to the confusion, several houses were being emptied of the wounded brought here the night before, to prevent their falling into the hands of the enemy, some in carLs, some being carried to the railway by men. The groai.s of these poor fellows as they were jostled through the street went to our he-irls, seliish through fatigue and suffering had maJeua. At last, following tiie guidance of a staff officer who was standing to show the way, we turned otf from the main London road, and took that towards Kingston. Here the crush -vas less, and we managed to move along pretty steadily. The air had been cooled by the storm, and there was no dust. We passed through a village where our new general had seized all the public-houses, and taken possession of the liquor ; and each regiment as it came up was halted, and each man got a drink of beer, served out by companies. Whether the owner got paid, I know not, but it was like ik-ctar. It must have been about 1 o'clock in the afternoon that we came in sight of Kingston. We had been on our legs 16 hours, and had got over about 12 miles of ground. There is a hill a little south of the Surliton station, covered then mostly with villas, but open at the western extremity, where there was a clump of trees on the summit. We had diverged from the road towards this, and here the general halted us and disposed the line of the division along his front, facing to the south-west, the right of the line reaching down to the Thames, the left extending along the southern slope of the hill, in the direction of the Epsom road by which we had come. We were nearly in the centre, occupying the knoll just iu front of the geueral, who dismounted on the top, and tied his horse to a tree. It is not much of a hill, bat commands an extensive view over the flat country around ; aud as we lay wearily on the ground we could see the Thames glistening like a silver field in the bright sunshine, the palace at Hampton Court, the bridge at Kingston, and the old church tower rising above the haze of the town, with the woods of "Richmond-park behind it. To most of us the scene could not but call up the associations of happy days of peace—days now ended and peace destroyed through national infatuation. We did not say this to each other, but a deep depression h id como upon us, partly due to weakness aud fatigue, no doubt, but we saw that another stand was going to be made, and we had no longer any confidence in ourselves. If we could not hold our own when stationary in line, on a good position, but had been broken up into n rabble at the first shock, what chance had we now of manoeuvring against a victorious enemy in this open ground. A feeling of desperation came over us, h determination to struggle on against hope ; but anxiety for the future of the country, and our friends, and alt dear to us, filled oar thoughts now that we had time for reflection. We had had no news of any kind since Wood joined us the day before—we knew not what was doing in London, or what the Government was about, or anything else ; and exhausted though we were, we felt an intense craving to know what was happening in other parts of the country. *' Our general had expected to find a supply of food and ammunition here, but nothing turned up. Most of us had hardly a cartridge lefr, so he ordered the regiment next to us, which came from the north and had not been engaged, to give us enough to make up 20 rounds a man, and he sent off a fatigue party to Kingston to try and get provisions, while a detachment of our fellows was allowed to go foraging among the villas in our rear ; and in about an hour they brought back some bread and meat, which gave us a slender meal all round. They said most of the houses were empty, and that many had been stripped of all eatables, and a good deal damaged already.

Ifc must have been between 3 and 4 o'clock when the sound of cannonading; began to be heard in the front, and yto could see the smoke of the guns rising above the woods of Esher and Claremont, and soon afterwards some troops emerged from the fields below us. It was the rearguard of regular troops. There were some guna also, whicli were driven up the slope and took up their position round the knoll. There were three batteries, but they only counted eight guns amongst Behind them was posted the line; it was a brigade apparently of four regiments, but the whole did not look to be more than eight or nine hundred men. Our regiment and another had been moved a little to the rear to makeway for them, and presently we were ordered down to occupy tiio railway stati-m on our rijjht reir. My Jo»r was now so stiff I conld no longer march with the rest, and my

left arm was very - aiid sore, and almost useless; but anything 'seemed better than being left behind, so I limped after the"*' battalion as best I could down to the station. .There was a goods shed a little in advance of it down the line, a strong brick building, and here my company was posted. The rest of our men lined the wall of the enclosure. A. staff-officer came with us to arrange the distribution ; we should be supported by line troops, lie said, and in a few minutes a train fall of then came slowly up from G-uildfor i way. Ifc was the last; the men got out, the" tr-La passed on, and a party began to tear ud the rails, while the rest were distributed among the houses on each side. A sergeant's party joined us in our shed, and an engineer officer with sappers came to knock holes in the walls for us to Are from; but there were only half-a-dozen of their, so progress was not very rapid, and as we had no tools we could not help. " It was while we were watching this job that the adjutant, who was as active as ever, looked in, and told us to muster in the vard. The fatigue-party had como back from Kingston, and a small baker's handcart of food was made over to us :>s our share. It "Attained loaves, flour, nnd some joints o. The meat or flour wo had not time or m

to cook. The loaves were devoured; ; * there was a tap o! water in the yard, so we felt refreshed by the meal. I should have liked to wash my wounds, which were becoming very offensive, but I dared not take off my coat, feeling sure I should not bo able to get it on again. It was while we were eating our bread that the rumour first reached us of another disaster, even greater than that we had witnessed ourselves. Whence it came I know not; but a whisper went down the ranks that Woolwich iial been captured. We all knew that it was our only arsenal, and understood the significance of the blow. hope, if this were true, of saving the country. Thinking over this, we went back to the shed.

Although this was only our second 'lay of war, I t.iink we were already old soldiers so far that we had come to be careless about fire, and the shot and shell that now began to open on us made no sensation. We felt, indeed, our need of discipline, and we saw plainly enough the s!en !cr chance of success coming out of such a rabble as wo were ; but I think we were all determ-ned to fight on as long as we could. Our gallant adjula-.it gave his spirit to everybody ; and the staff-officer commanding was a very cheerful fellow, and we..: about as if we were certain of victor}. Just as tlie firing began lie looked m to say that we were as safe as iu a church, tb"-.t we must be sure and pepper the enemy well, and that more cartridges would soon arrive. There were some steps and benches in the shed, and cm these a par' of our men were standing, to fire through the upper loop-holes, while the line soldiers and others stood' on the ground, guarding the second row. I sat on the floor, for I could not now use my rifle, and b sides, there were snore men than loop-holer. The artillery fire which had opened uow on our position was from a longish range ; and occupation for the ritl?men iiad hardly begun when there was a crash iu the shed, and I wps knocked down by a blow on t-e head. I was almost stunned for a time, and could not make out what ii;.d happened. A shot or shell had hit tho shed without quite penetrating the wall, but tho blow had upset- the steps resting against it and the men standing on them, bringing down a cloud of plaster aud brickbats, one of which had struck me. I felt now past being of use. I could not use my rifle, and could barely stand ; and after a time I thought I would make for my own house, on the chance of finding some one still there. I got up, therefore, and staggered homewards .Musketry fire had now commenced, aud out ude were b ! azing away from the windows of the houses, and from behind walls, and from the shelter of some trucks stiil standing in the station. A couple of field-piece? in the yard were firing, and in the open space in rear a reserve was drawn up. There, t'-o, was the staii'-otficer on hors-baek, watching the fight through his field-glass. I remember having still enough sense to fee! th-.t the position was a hopeles one. Thru straggling liie- of houses and gardens would surely be bro-.ea through at some point, and then the iine must, give way like a rope of sand. It was ah Tit a mile to our house, and L was thinking how L could possibly drag myself so far when I suddenly recollected that I was pa-sing Travers's house, —one of the first of a row of villas then leading from the station to Kingston, ila-i lie been

bruiight horns?, I wondered, as his faithful old servant promised, and was his wife here ? I remember to this day tlu -ens-itiun o''shame I felt, when I recollected that I had r.ot once given him —n - ,y greatest fri<«:td—a thou _mt since I carried liim of? the ii■..•ld the day before. But war and suffering make men selfish. I would go in now :;t any rale and rest awhile, and see if I i.-i>uid bo u!' The little garden before the home wis .as trim as ever—l used to pass it every day on my way to the train, and knew every shrub in it—and a. blaze of lljwers, but the hail-door stoo l ajar. I stepped in and saw little! Arthur standing in the hall. He had been dressed as neatly as ever that day, and as ho stood there in his pretty blue frock and white trousers and soeke, showing his chubby little hys, with his golden locks, fair face, and large d u-k eyes, the picture of childish beauty, in the quiet hall, j.ist 33 it used to 100k —the vases of fl uvers, the hat and coats banging up, the familiar pictures on the wtills—this vision of pence in the midst of war made me wonder for a moment, faint and giddy as I was, if the pandemonium outside had any real exhtenee, and was not merely a hideout dream. Uit 111 ■ > mar of guns making the house, shake, and the rushing of the shot, gave a ready answer. Th? lit'.lo fellow appealed almost unconscious of the scene around him, and was walking ua the stairs holding by ihe radius, ono step at a time, as I had seen him do a hundred times before, but turned round as I came in. My appearance frightened him, and staggering as I did into the hall, my face aud clothes covered with blood and dirt, I must have looked au awful object to the child, for be gave a cry and turned to run toward the basement stairs. But he stopped on hearing my voice cailing him back to his god-papa, and after a while came timidly up to me. Papa h.s been to the battle, he said, and was very ill : mamma was with papa: Wood was out. Lucy was in the cellar, and had taken him there, but he wanted to go to mamma. Telling him to stay in the hall a minute till I called him, I climbed up-stairs and opened the bedroom-door. Aly poor friend lay there, his body resting on the bed, Ins head supported 011 his wife's shoulder as she sat by the bedside. He breathed heavily, but the pallor of his face, the closed eye 3, the prostrate arms, the clammy foam she was wiping from his mouth, all spoke of approaching death. The good old servant had done his duty, at least, —he had brought his master home to die in his wife's arms. The poor woman was too intent on her charge to notice the opening of the door, and as the child would be better away, I closed it gently and went down to the hall to take litr.ie Ardiur to the shelter below, where the maid was hiding. Too late ! He lay at the foot of the stairs on his face, his little arms 81 retched out, his hair dabbled in blood. I had not noticed the crash among the othe- noises, but a splinter of a shell must have come through the open doorway ; it had carried away the back of his head. The poor child's death must have been instantaneous. i (Med to lift up the little corpse with mv one arm, but even this load was too much for me, and while looping down I fainted away."

■'To bo continue I.' l