Thank you for correcting the text in this article. Your corrections improve Papers Past searches for everyone. See the latest corrections.

This article contains searchable text which was automatically generated and may contain errors. Join the community and correct any errors you spot to help us improve Papers Past.

Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image

REMINISCENCES OF A VOLUNTEER, A. D. 1925.

THE BATTLE OF T)OK.KJ>~<.>.

(Concluded from uitr la-,1 iwr.) THE SCENE OF orEKATJOXS. At the first sign of dawn, the bugles of the regiments sounded the reveille, and we were ordered to fall in, and the roll was called. About twenty men were absent, who had fallen out sick the day before ; they had been sent up to London by train during the night, I believe. After standing in column for about half an hour, the brigade major came down with orders to pile arms and stand easily, and perhaps half an hour afterwards we were told to get breakfast as quickly as possible, and to cook a day's food at the same time. This operation was managed pretty much in the same way as the evening before, except that we had our cooking puts and kettles ready. Meantime there was leisure to look around, and from where we stood there was a commanding view of one of the most beautiful scenes in England. Our regiment was drawn up on the extremity of the ridge which runs from Guihlford to Dorking, This is indeed merely a part of the great chalkrange which extends from beyond Aidershot east to the Medway, but there is a gap in the ridge just here where the little stream that runs past Dorking turns suddenly to the north, to find its way to the Thames. We stood on the slope of the hill as it trends down eastward towards this gap, and had passed our bivouac in what had appeared to be a gentleman's park. A little way above us, and to our right, was a very tine country seat to which the park was attached, now occupied by the head quarters of our division. From this house tho hill sloped steeply down southward to the valley bolow, which runs nearly east and west parallel to j the ridge, and carries the railway and the road from Guihlford to Reigate, and in which valley, immediately in front of the chateau, and perhaps a mile and a half distant from it, was the little town of Dorking, nestled in the trees, and rising up the foot of the slopes on the other bide of the valley which stretched away to Leith Common, the scene of yesterday's march. Thus the main part of the town of Dorking was on J our right front, but the suburbs stretched away eastward nearly to our proper front, | culminating in a small railway station, ! from which the grassy slopes of the park rose up, dotted with shrubs and trees, to where we were standing. Hound this railway station was a cluster of villas, and one or two mills, of whose gardens we thus had a bird's-eye view, their little ornamental ponds glistening like looking glasses in the morning sun. Immediately on our left the park sloped steeply down to the gap before mentioned, through which ran the little stream, as well as the railway from Epsom to Brighton, nearly due north and south, meeting the Guildford and Reigate line at right angles. Close to the point of intersection and the little station already mentioned, was the station of the former line, where we had stopped the clay before. Beyond the gap on the east (otir left), and in continuation of our ridge, rose the chalk-hill again. The I shoulder of this ridge overlooking the gap is called Box hill, from the shrubbery of boxwood with which it is covered. Its sides were very steep, and the top of the ridge was covered with troops. The natural strength of our position was manifested at a glance ; a high grassy ridge steep to the south, with a stream in front, and but little cover up the sides. It seemed made for a battle-field. The weak point was the gap ; the ground at the junction of the railways and the roads immediately at the entrance of the gap formed a little valley, dotted, as I have said, with buildings and gardens. This, in one sense, was the key of the position ; for although it would not be tenable while we held the ridge commanding it, the enemy by carrying this point and advancing through the gap would cut our line in two. But you must not suppose I scanned the ground thus critically at the time. Anybody, indeed, might have been struck with the natural advantages of our position ; but what, as I remember, most impressed me, was the peaceful beauty of the seene — the little town with the outline of the houses obscured by a blue mist, the massive crispness of the foliage, the outlines of the great trees, lighted up by the sun, and relieved by deep blue shade. So thick was the timber here, rising up the southern slopes of the valley, that it looked almost as if it might have been a primeval forest. The quiet of the scene was the moi'e impressive, because uontrasted in the mind with the scenes we expected to follow ; and I can remember, as if it were yesterday, the sensation of bitter' regret that it should now be too late to avert this coming desecration of our country, which might bo easily have been prevented.

A little firmness, a little prevision on the part of our rulers, even a little common sense, and this great calamity would have been rendered utterly impossible. Too late, alas ! We were like the foolish virgins in the parable. VACILLATION OF THE TRESS. A couple of newspapers the old man had brought were eagerly competed for by all, even at this critical moment, for we had heard no authentic news since we left London on Sunday. And even at this distance of time, althoiigh I only glanced down the paper, I can remember almost the very words I read there. They wore both copies of the same paper ; the iirst, published on Sunday evening, when the news had arrived of th<; successful landing at three points, was written in a tone of despair. The country must confess that it had been taken by surprise. The conqueror would be satisfied with the humiliation inflicted by a peace dictated on our own shores ; it was the clear duty of the Government to accept the best terms obtainable, and to avoid further bloodshed and disaster, and avert the fall of our tottering mercantile credit. The next morning's issue was in quite a different tone. Apparently the enemy had received a check, for we were here exhorted to resistance. An impregnable position was to be taken up along the Downs ; a force was concentrating there far out-numbering the rash invaders, who, with an invincible line before them, and the sea behind, had no choice between destruction or surrender. Let there be no pusillanimous talk of negotiation — the fight must be fought out ; and there could be but one issue. England, expectant, but calm, awaited with confidence the result of the attack on its unconquerable volunteers. The writing appeared to me eloquent, but rather inconsistent. The same paper said the Government had sent off .100 workmen froom Woolwich to open a branch arsenal at Birmingham. OPEXIXd FJRE. For twelve hours had we been waiting for the coming struggle, till at last it seemed almost as if the invasion were but a bad dream, and the enemy, sis yet unseen by us, had no real exist encu. So far things had not been very different, but for the numbers, and for what we had been told, from a volunteer review on Brighton Downs. I remember that these thoughts were passing through my mind as we lay down in groups on the grass, some smoking, some nibbling at their bread, some even asleep, when the listless state we have fallen into was suddenly disturbed by a gunshot fired from the top of the hill on our right close by the big house. It was the first time I had ever heard a shotted gun fired, and although it is iifty years ago, the angry whistle of the shot as it left the gun is in my ears now. The sound was soon to become common enough. We all jumped up at the report, and fell in almost without the word being given, grasping our rilies tightly, and the leading files peering forward to look for the approaching enemy. This gun was apparently to begin, for' now our batteries opened tire all along the line. What they were firing at 1 could not see, and I am sure the gunners could not see much themselves. I have told you what a haze had come over the air since the morning, [and now the .smoke from the guns settled like a pall over the hill, and soon we could see little but the men in our ranks, and the outline of some gunners in the battery drawn up next us on the slope on our right. This li ring went on, I should think, for nearly a couple of hours, and still there was no reply. We could see the gunners — it was a troop of horse artillery— working away like fury, ramming, loading, and running up with carI fridges, the officer in command riding slowly up and down just behind his guns, and peering out with his field-glass into the mist. Once or twice they ceased firing to let their smoke clear away, but this I did not do much good. For nearly two hours did this go on, and not a shot came in reply. "If a battle is like this," said Dick Wake, who was my next-hand rile, " it's mild work, to say the least." The words were hardly uttered when a rattle of musketry was heard in front ; our skirmishers were at it, and very soon the bullets began to sing over our heads, and [some struck the ground at our feet. Up to this time we had been in column : we were now deployed into line on the ground assigned to us. From the valley or gap on our left there ran a lane light up the hill almost due west, or along our front, This lane had a thick hank about 4ft. high, and the greater part of the ' regiment was drawn up behind it ; but a little way up the hill the lane trended back out of the line, so the right of the regiment here left it, and occupied the open grass land of the park. The bank had been cut away at this point to admit of our going in and out. We had been | told in the morning to cut down the bushes on the top of the bank, so as to make the ppace clear for firm. over, but

we had no tools to work with ; however, a party of sappers had come down and finished the job. My company was on the right, and was thiis beyond the shelter of the friendly bank, (hi our light again was the battery of artillery already mentioned ; then came a battalion of the line, then more guns, and then a great mass of militia and volunteers, and a few line up to the big house. At least, this wojs the order before the firing began, after that I do not know what changes took place. And now the enemy's artillery began to open ; where their guns were posted we could not see, but we began to hear the rush of the shells over our heads, and the bang as they burst just beyond. And now what took place I can really hardly tell you. Sometimes, when I try to recall the scene, it seems as if it lasted for a few minutes : yet I know, as we lay on the ground, I thought the hours would never pass away, as we watched the gunners still plying their task, tiring at the invisible enemy, never stopping a moment except when now and then a dull blow would be heard and a man fall down, and three or four of his comrades would carry him to the rear. The captain no longer rode up and down : what had become of him I do not know. Two of the guns ceased riling for a time ; they had got injured in some way, and up rode an artillery general. I think 1 see him now, a very handsome man, with straight features and a dark moustache, his breast covered with medals. He appeared in a great rage at the guns stopping fire. " Who commands, this battery i" he cried. " I do, Sir Henry,"' said an officer, riding forward, whom 1 had not noticed before. The group is before me at this moment, .standing out clear ngaimt the background of .smoke, Sir Henry erect on his splendid charger, his flashing eye, his left arm pointing towards the enemy to enforce something he was going to say, the young oiiicer reining in his horse just beside him, and saluting with his right hand raised to his busby. This for a moment, then a dull thud, and both hor.ses and riders are prostrate on the ground. A round shot had struck ail four at the saddle line. Some of the gunners ran up to help, but neither o nicer could have lived many minutes. This was not the first I saw killed. Some time before this, almost immediately on the enemy's artillery opening, as we were lying, I heard .something like the sound of steel striking steel, and at the same moment Dick Wake, who was next to me in the ranks, leaning on his elbows, sank forward on his face. I looked round and saw what had happened ; a shot fired at a high elevation, passing over his head, had struck the ground behind, nearly cutting his thigh off. It must have been the ball striking his sheathed bayonet which made the noise. Three of us carried the poor fellow to the rear with difficulty for the shattered limb ; but he was nearly dead from loss of blood when we got to the doctor, who was waiting in a sheltered hollow about 200 yards in the rear, with two other doctors in plain clothes, who had come up to help. We deposited our burden, and returned to the front. Poor Wake was sensible when we left him, and apparently too shaken by the shock to be able to speak. Wood was there helping the doctor. 1 paid more visits to the rear of the same sort before the evening was over. THE BATTLE. A tremendous thunderstorm, which had been gathering all day, burst 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 j thunder and ihe glare of the lightning could be heard and seen even above the roar and Hashing of the artillery. Once the mist lifted, and I saw for a minute an attack on Box-hill, on the other side lof the gap on our left. Tt was like the scene at a theatre — a curtain of smoke all round ami a clear gap in the centre, with a stidden gleam of evening sunshine lighting it up. The steep smooth slope of the hill was crowded with the darkblue figures of the enemy, whom f now saw for the rir.it 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 officers waving their swords, the columns closing up and gradually making way. Our people were almost concealed by the bushes at the top, whence the smoke 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, aflame of tire 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 coolne^ when it came to our turn, It "yvao about this time that !

our skirmishers fell back, a good many wounded, some limpiner along by themj selves, others helped. The main body rc1 tired in very fair order, halting to turn round and lire ; we could see a mounted oiiicer of the Guards riding up and down encouraging them tobesteadj r . Now came our turn. For a few minutes w e saw nothing, but a rattlejjf 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 ; but our brigade-major rode up with an order, and the word was passed through the men to reserve our fire. In a very few moments it must 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, rive 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 brigadier clattered on horseback up the lane. "Now, then, gentlemen, give it them hot," he cried ; and iire away we 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 jbe the last ; escape seemed impossible, but £ saw no one fall, for I was too busy, and so were we all, to look to the right or | left, but loaded and tired as fast as we could. How long this went oji I know not — it could not have been long ; neither ; side could hn\ c lasted many minutes under such a tire, but it ended by the enemy gradually falling back, and as so vi 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 tho 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 Avas, I expect, their flank attack as much as our rire 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 us, firing sis they went, but as steady as if on parade. We felt a great elation at this moment; it seemed asif the battle was won. Just then somebody called out to look to the wounded, and for tho first time 1 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 Law ford of my office, dead on his back from a bullet through his forehead, his hand still grasping his rifle. -\t every step was sonic friend or acquaintance killed or wounded, and a few paces down the lane I found Travers, sitting with his back against the bank. A ball had gone through hib lungs, and blood was coming from his mouth. I wa& lifting him, but the cry of ;r_v >ny he gave st< >pped me. 1 then saw that i 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 therain-wsitcrundorhim. Stiil he could not be left here, so, lifting him up as well as f could, 1 carried him through the gate "which led out of the lane at the back to where our camp hospital was in the rear. The movement must have caused him awful agony, for I could not support the broken thigh, and he could not restrain his groans, brave fellow though he was ; but how I carried him at all I cannot make out, for he was a much bigger man than myself : but 1 had not gonu far, one of a stream of our fellows, all on the some 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 <>;ot a, Ciii t down in the hollow, and would endeavour h> take olVhis master at oiiccfo Kingston, when a^tafl" officer rodo up to c;>ll us to the ranks. '" Yon really must m >t strangle in this way, gentlemen,'' he said "pray keei> your rank."' " But we can't leave our wounded to be trodden down and die," cried one of our fellows. '" Beat off the enemy first, sir," he replied. "Gentlemen, do, pra}', join your regiments, or we shall be a regular mob." And no doubt he did not .speak too soon ; for besides our fellows Ktraggling to the rear, lots of volunteers from the regiments in reserve were running forward to help, till the whole ground was dotted with i^roups of them. [ hastened back to my post, but I had just time to notice that all tho ground in our rear was occupied by a thick mass of troops much more numerous than in the morning, s>nd 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 ab getting back to the fnendlv shelter of the lane. Looking i>\ er the bank, I noticed for the lirst time the frightful execution our fire had created. The space in front was thickly strewed with dead and badly wounded, and beyond th> bodies of tho ! fallen, enemy could jiut be peeiwfor ft

Avas now getting dusk — the bearskins and red coats of our own gallant Guards scattered over the slope, and marking the line of their victorious adA'ance. But hardly a minute could have passed in thus looking over the iiold, when our brigadeinajor ciimo moving up the lane on foot (I suppose his hor.se had been shot), crying, ' v Stand to your arms-, Volunteers ! they're coming on again ;"' and a\c found ourselves a second time engaged in a hot musketry tire. How long it Avent on I cannot now remember, but Aye could distinguish cleaily the thick line of skirmisheis, about (30 paces oil", and mounted officers among them : and we seemed to be keeping them Avell in check, for they Avere quite exposed to our fire, while Aye were protected nearly Up to our shoulders, Avhen — I 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 tiring 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 1 cannot recollect, or whether it was Avithout orders, but in a short time avc found ourselves out of the lane, and draAvn up in a straggling line about 30 yards in tho rear of it — at our end, that is, the other flank had fallen back a good deal more — and the enemy Avere lining the hedge, and numbers of them passing o\er and forming up on our side. Beyond our left a confused mass Avere retreating, firing as they went, followed by the advancing line of the enemy. We stood in this way for a short space, tiring at random as fast as we could. Our colonel and major must have been shot, for there was no one to give an order, Avhen somebody on horseback called out from behind — I think it must liaA'e been the brigadier — "Now, then, Volunteers ! give a British cheer, and go at them — charge !"' and, with <i shout, avc rushed at the enemy. Some' of them ran, home stopped to meet us, and for a moment it Avas 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 1 just got n 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 was over in a second, and avc had cleared the ground again right up to the rear hedge of the lane. Had Aye gone on, I believe avc might have recovered the lane too : but avc were all out of order ; there avhs no one to say A\h.it to do : the enemy began to line the hedge and open fire, and they were streaming past our left ; and how it came about J know not, but we found ourselves falling back toAvards nur right rear, scarce any semblance of a line remaining, and the volunteers who had given Avay on our left mixed up Avith us, and adding to the confusion. It A\as iioav nearly dark. On the slopes which we A\ere 3'etreating to Avas a large mass of le.serves, draAvn up in columns. Some of the leading files of these, mistaking n s for the enemy, began filing at us ; our fellows, crying out to them to stop, ran toAvnrds their ranks, and m 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. Most of us, I believe, turned towards the enemy and fired away our few remaining cartridges ; hut it was too lafo to take ami, foitunately f" 1 " '"■s (ll ' fhe guns which the enemy had brought up through tin'j,ap, and were living poinl-bhmk, would li,i\c done more damage. As it was v,e muld sec little more than fb; 1 bright fl.'l-.ht's of (heir Inc. In our confusion wu liad jammed up a line regiment immediately behind us m»d its colonel and some .stair officers were in vain trying to make a passage for it, and their shouts to us to march to the lear and clear a road could be heaul above the roar of the guiin and the confused babel of sound At last a mounted officer pushed his Avay 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 and adAancu down the slope. I have also a dim recollection of seeing the Life Guards trot past the front, and push on towards the town — a last desperate attempt to saA^e the day — before avo left tho field. Our adjutant, Avho had got separated from our Hank 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-reform, as he said ; but there we met a \ast crowd of volunteers, militia, and waggons, all hurrying rearward from the direction of the big house, and we were borne in the stream fur at least a mile before it was possible to stop. At last the adjutant led us tn an open space a little off tho line of fugitives. and here wo jre-fonned the remaps o

'the companies. Telling us to halt, lie 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, avc 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, andnoAvand then, a stray .shell came screaming up and burst near us, but we were be\ond the sound of musketry. This halt fir.st ga\e us time to think about Avhat had happened. The long day of expectancy had been succeeded by 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 Avith a rifle have you time to consider whether lie or you is the invader, or that you are fighting for your homes and hearths. All lighting is pretty much alike, I suspect, as to sentiment, when once it begins. Cut now avc had time for reflection ; and although we did not yet quite understand how far the day had gone against us, an uneasy feeling of selfcondemnation must haA"e come up in the minds of most of us ; while, above all, we now began to realise Avhat the loss of this battle meant to the country. Then, too, avc knew not Avhat had become of all our Avounded 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 through my left arm, just below the shoulder and outside the bone. I remember feeling something like a blow just Avhen avc k-nt the lane, but the wound passed unnoticed till now, Avhen the bleeding had stopped, and the shirt Avas sticking to the wound

This half-] i< nu* seemed an age, and ■while we stood on this knoll the endless tramp of men and rumbling 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 inarch, and try and find our brigade in the morning ; so we turned into the throng again, and made our way on as best we could. A few scraps of news he gave us as he rode alongside of our leading section ; the army had held its position well for a time, but the enemy had at last broken through the line between us and Guildford, as well as in our front, and had poured his men through the point gained, throwing the line into confusion, and the first army corps near Guildford ■were also falling back to avoid being outflanked. The regular troops Avere holding the rear ; we ■were to push on as fast as possible to get out of their Avay, 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, and carried oft* the tield. The Guards had suffered dreadfully ; the household cavalry had ridden down the cuirassiers, but had got into broken ground and been awfully cut up. Such were the 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 Avhen we reached Leatherhead. Here avc left the open ground and took to the road, and the block became greater. We pushed our Avay painfully along : several trains passed slowly ahead along the railway by the roadside, containing the Avounded, avc supposed — such I of them, at least, as were lucky enough to be picked up. Jt A\as daylight when we got to Ep^om. The night had been bright and clear after tin: storm, with a fool air. which, blow ing through my soaking clothes, clnlled me io the bom i . My •wounded leg was still'.uid sore, and I was ready to drop w ith exhaustion and hunger. Nor A\ere my comrades in much better case; we had eaten nothing since breakfast the day before, and the bread we had put by had been \\ ashed away by the storm; only a little pulp remained at the bottom of my bag. The tobacco was all too wet to smoke. In this plight we were all creeping along, when tho adjutant guided us into a tield by the roadside to rest awhile, and Aye lay doAvn exhausted on the sloppy grass. The 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 Abounded no one could tell ; but it Avas certain many must have got separated in the confusion of the evening. "While resting here, Aye saAV pass by in the crowd of A'chicles and men. a cart laden with eonnnissaiia,t stores, driven by a man in uniform. '"Food!"' cried some one, and a dozen volunteers jumped up and surrounded the cart. The driver tried to whip them oil' ; but he Avas pulled oil" his seat, and the contents of the cart thrown out in an instant. They weio preserved meats in tins, Avhich we tore open with our bayonets, The meat had been cooked before, I think ; at any rate Aye devoured it. Shortly after this a general came by three or four pcaff-oflicew. Eo

stopped and spoke to nur adjutant, and then rode into the field, ;< My lads," said he, k ' you shall join my division for the present ; fall in. and follow the regiment that is now passing. We rose up, fell in by companies, each about 20 strong, and turned once more into the stream moAing along the road; regiments, detachments, single Aohinteevs or militiamen, country people making off, some with bundles, some without, a few in carts, but most on foot : here and there waggons of stores, with men .sit ling wherever there a\ as room, others crammed with wounded soldiers. Many blocks occurred from horses falling or carts breaking down and filling up the road. In the town the confusion was even Avorse, for all the houses seemed full of volunteers and militiamen, Avounded or resting, or trying 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 vohinteer regiments who had arrived from the north the previous night, and had been halted therefor orders, Avere 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 Avliat remained of them, were now, J believe, all in the rear, to hold the advancing enemy 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 carts, some being carried to the railway by men. The groans of these poor felloA\s as they Avere jostled through the street went to our hearts, selfish though fatigue and suffering had made us. At last, following the guidance of a stall' officer avlio was standing to show the way, avc turned off from the main London road, and took that towards Kingston. Here the crush was 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 whore 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 knoAvnot. but it Avas like nectar. It must luia'c been about 1 o'clock in the afternoon that avc came in sight of Kingston. We had been on our legs 1G hours, and had got over about 12 miles of ground. There is a hill a little south of the Surbiton station, covered then mostly with villas, but open at the Avestern extremity, Avhere there avhs 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 sou tli- west, the right of the line reaching doAvn to the Thames, the left extending along the southern slope of the hill, in the direction of the Epsum road by Avhich we had come. We Avere nearly in the centre, occupying the knoll just in front of the general, a\lio dismounted on the top, and tied his horse to a tree. It is not much of a hill, but commands an extensiA'e view over the fiat country around ; and as we lay Avearily on the ground, avc 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 toAvn, Avith the woods of Richmond Park behind it. To most of us the scene could nut but call up the associations of happy days of peace- days now ended and peace destroyed through nat'onal infatuation. We did not xiy this to each other, but a deep depression had come upon us, partly due to Aveakncss and fatigue, no doubt ; but we saw that another stand was going t<» be made, and we had no longer any confidence in ourselves. If we could not hold our own when stationary in llinte t on a good position, but had been broken up into a rabble at the fivsv shock, Avhat chance had Aye now of manoeUATing against ;t sietorions enemy in tins open ground. A feeling of despeiation came over us — a determination to struggle on against hope ; but anxiety for the future of the country, and our friends, and all dear to us, filled our thoughts now that avc had time for rcllection. We had no news of any kind since Wood joined us the day before — avc knew not Avliat was doing in London, or Avhat the Government was about, or anything else ; and exhausted though Aye were, we felt an intense craving to kwnv 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 rail ridge lefb, 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 jju foraging among tho villas in nm< xear ; and in about an hour they brought back some bread and meat, which gave us a slender meal all round. They .siid most of the houses were empty, and that many had been stripped of all eatables, and a good deal damaged already. Jt must ha\e been between '.) and 4 o'clock when the sound of cannonailin:/ began to be heard in the front, and we could see the smoke of the guns risin^ above the woods of E.sher and Claremont, ami soon afterwards some troops cnierged from the fields belov, us. It w ,us the rearguard of regular troops. There were some guns also, which Avere driven up the slope, and took up their position round the knoll. There were three bat tenes. but they only counted eight gum amongst them. Behind them was posted the line : it was a brigade, apparently of four regiments, hut the Avliole did not look to be mure than eight or nine hundred men. Our regiment and another had been moved a little to the rear to make way for them, and presently avc Avere ordered down to occupy the railway station on our right rear. My leg Avas now so stiff I could no longer march A\ith the rest, and my left arm was very swollen and 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 Avas a goods shed a little in advance of it down the line, astrong brick building, and here my company Avas posted. The rest of our men lined the wall of the enclosure. A staff-officer came Auth us to arrange the distribution ; Aye should be supported by line troops, he said, and in a fW minutes a train full of them came slowly up from Guildford way. It was the last; the men got out, the train passed on, and a party began to tear up the rails, Avhile the rest were distributed among the houses on each side. A sergeant's party joined us in our shed, and an engineer officer Avith sappers came to knock holes in the Avail for us to fire from ; but there were only half-a-dozen of them, so progress Avas not \ cry rapid, and as Aye had no tools we could not help.

It Avas Avhilc Aye were watching this job that the adjutant. a\lio Avas as actiAe as ever, looked in, and told us to muster in the yard. The fatigue-party had come back from Kingston, and a small baker's handcart of food was made oA'er to us as our share. It contained loaves, flour, and some joints of meat. The meat or flour avc had not time or means to cook. The loaA'es were devoured ; and there Avas a tap of Avatcr in the yard, so avc felt refreshed by the meal. T should have liked to wash my Avounds, Avhich Avero becoming very offensive, but I dared not take off my coat, feeling sure I should not be able to get it on again. It Avas Avhile Aye were eating our bread that the rumour first readied us of another disaster, even greater than that we had Avitnessed ourselves. "Whence it came I knoAv not ; but a whisper went doAvu the ranks that "Woohvich had been captured, A\ c all kneA\ that it ay.is our only arsenal, and understood the significance of tho blow. xSo hope, if this Avere true, of saving the country. Thinking over this, avc Avent back to the shed.

Although this was only our second day of war, 1 think Aye were already old soldiers so far that we hail come to be careless about fire, and the shot and shell that now begun to open on us made no sensation. "We felt, indeed, our need of discipline, and a\c saw plainly en<vugh the slender chance of success coming out of such a rabble as avc were ; but I think Are were alt determined t<> light on as long as we could. Our gallant ad|utant gate bis spirit U< everybody ; and (he staffoilicer conuiiaudmg was a very cheerful fellow, and \wiit about as jf avu were certain of victory. -lust as the firing began, he looked hi to say thai we Avere as safe as in a church, that wemu^tbe sme and popper the enemy well,, ;u\d dut more cartridges Avould soon <umve. There weie some steps and benches in the shed, and on these a part of onr men were standing, to fire through the upper loop-holes, while the line soldiers and others stood on the ground, guarding the second row. T sat on tho floor, for! could not now use my ritle, and besides, there were more men than loopholes. The artillery fire which had opened now on our position was from a longisJi range ; and occupation for the riflemen had hardly begun Avhen there was a crash, in the shed, and I Avas knocked down by a blow on the head. 1 Avas almost stunned fora time, and could n,>t make out what had happened. A shot or shell had hit the shed withouttmite penetrating the Avail but the blow had upset the steps resting against it and the men standing on them, bringing down a cloud of plaster and brickbats, one of which had struck inc. J 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 oavii house, on the chance of finding some one still there. I got up, therefore, and. staggered home*

Wards. Musketry fire had now commenced, and our side wero blazing away from the windows of the lumses, and fr )in behind walls, and from the shelter of some trucks still standing in the station. A couple of field-pieces in the yawl were tiring, and in the open space in rear a reserve was drawn np. There f.oo, was the staff-officer on horseback, matching the fight through his field-glass. I remember having still enough sense to feel that the position was a hopeless one. That straggling line of houses and gardens would surely be broken through at some point, and then the line must give way like a rope of sand. It was about a mile to our house, and I was thinking how I could possibly drag myself so far when I suddenly recollected that 1 was passing Travers's house—one of the first of a row of villas then leading from the station to Kingston, Had lie been brought home, I wondered, as his faithful old servant promised, and was his wife here i I remember to this day the sensation of shame I felt, when T recollected that I had not once given him — my greatest friend — a thought since 1 carried him off the field the day before. But war and suffering make men .selfish. I would go in now at any rate and rest awhile, and see if I could be of use. The little garden before the house was as trim as ever — I used to pass it every day on my way to the train, and knew every shrub in it — and a blaze of flowers, but the hall-door stood ajar. I stepped in and saw little Arthur standing in the hall. He had been dressed as neatly as ever that day, and as he stood there in his pretty blue frock and white trowsers and socks, showing his chubby little legs, with his golden locks, fair face, and large dark tyeh, the picture of childish beauty, in the quiet hall, just as it used to 100k — the vases of flowers, the hat and coats hanging up, the familiar pictures on the walls — -this vision of pence in the midst of war made me wonder for a moment, faint and giddy as 1 was, if the pandemonium outside had an}- real existence, and was not merely a hideous dream. But the roar of guns making the house shake, and the rushing of the shot, gave a ready answer. The little fellow appeared almost unconscious of the scene around him, and was walking up the stairs holding by the railing, one step at a time, as I had seen him do a hundred times before, but turned round as i came in. ZMy appearance frightened him, and staggering as I did into the hall, my face and clothes covered with blood and dirt, I must have looked an awful object to the child, for he gave a cry and turned to run toward the basement stairs. But he stopped on hearing my voice calling him back to his god-papa, and after a while came timidly up to me. Papa has 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 upstairs and opened the bedroom door. My poor friend lay there, his body resting on the bed, his head supported on his wife's shoulder as she sat by the bedside. He breathed heavily, but the pallor of his face, the closed eyes, 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 T closed it gently ;md went down to the hall to take little Arthur to tlie shelter below, where the maid was hiding. Too late ! He lay at the foot of ' tlie stairs on his face, his little arms stretched out, his hair dabbled in blood. 1 had not noticed the crash among the other noises, but a splinter of a shell must have come through the open doorway ; it had carried away the back of his head. The pool 1 child's death must Inue been instantaneous. I tried to lift up the little corpse with my one arm, but (ivt'ii this load an as too much for me, and while stooping down T fainted away. I On recovering his senses the volunteer found himself in the house of his friend Travers, and XHIi EXEMY IX I'OSKES.SIOX. There was no gas, and the drawingroom door was closed ; but from tlie open dining-room the glimmer of a candle feebly lighted up the hall, in which half a dozen sleeping (igures could be discerned, while the room itself was crowded with men. Tlie table was covered with plates, glasses, and bottles ; but most of the men were asleep on the chairs or on the floor, a few men were smoking cigars, and one or two with their helmets on were still engaged at supper, occasionally grunting out an observation between the mouthfuls. "Sind wackere soltaden diese Englishen, Freiwillengen," said a broad-shoul-dered brute, stuffing a great hunk of beef into his mouth with a silver fork — an iiu-

plement, I should think, he must have been using for the first time in his life. " Ja, ja," replied his comrade, who was lolling back in his chair, with a pair of very dirty legs on the table, and one of poor Travers's best cigars in his mouth, "Sic sogut laufen konnen." " Ja wohe," responded the first speaker; " aber sind nicht eden so schnell wis die FranzsOischen Mobloten. " ' ' Geweiss !" grunted a hulking lout from the floor, leaning on his elbow, and sending out a cloud of smoke from his ugly I jaws; "und da sind hicr etwa gute Schutzen. " "Aast recht, lange Peter," answered number one; "wenn die Schurken so gut exercisen wie sclvutzen kuonnten, so waren wir heut nicht hier !" "Recht! Recht!'' said the second; "das exercisen macht den gntcn soldaten." What more criticisms on the shortcomings of our unfortunate volunteers might | have passed, I did not stop to hear, being j interrupted by a suund on the stair. Mrs Travers was standing on the landingplace, f limped up the stairs to meet her. Among the many pictures of those fatal days engraven on my memory, I remembernone more clearly than the mournful aspect of my poor friend, widowed and motherless within a few moments, as she stood there in her white dress, coming forth like a ghost from the chamber of the dead, the candle she held lighting up her face, and contrasting its pallor with the dark hair that fell disorderly around it, its beauty radiant even through features worn with fatigue and sorrow. She was calm, and even tearless, though the .trembling lip told of the effort to restrain the emotion she felt. " Dear friend," she said, taking my hand, " I was coming to seek you, forgive my selfishness in neglecting you so long ; but you will under- | stand"' — glancing at the door above — "how occupied I have been.'' "Whore,"' l began, "is,"' — " my boy,"' she answered, anticipating my question. " I have laid him by his father. " ' ' But now your v. « >unds must be cared for ; how pale and faint you look ! — rest here a moment— and descending to the dining rooms, she returned with some wine, which I gratefully drank, and then miking me ait down on the top step of the stairs, she brought me water, and linen, and cutting off the sleeve of my coat, bathed and bandaged my wounds. "Twas I who felt selfish for thus adding to her troubles ; but, in truth. I was too weak to have much will left, and stood in need of the help which she forced me to accept, and the dressing of my wounds afforded indescribable relief. While thus tending me, she explained in broken sentences how matters stood. Every room but her own and the little parlour into which she, with Wood's help, had carried me, was full of soldiers. Wood had been taken away to work at repairing the railroad, and Lucy had run off from fright, but the cook had stopped at her post and had served up supper and opened the cellar for the soldiers' use ;, she did not understand what they said, they were rough and boorish, but not uncivil. I should now go, she . said, when my wounds were dressed, to look nfter my own house, where I might be wanted ; for herself, she wished only to be allowed to remain watching there — | pointing to the room Avhere lay the bodies of her husband and child — where she would not be molested. I felt that her advice was good. I could be of no use as protection, and I had an anxious longing to know what had become of my sick mother and sister ; besides, .some arrangements must be made for the burial. I therefore limped away. There was no need to express thanks on either side, and the grief was too deep to be reached by any outward show of sympathy. Outside the house there was a good deal of movement and bustle, many carts going along, the waggoners from Sussex and Surrey, evidently impressed, and guarded by soldiers ; and although no gas was burning, the road towards Kingston was well lighted by torches held by persons standing at short intervals in line, who had been seized for the duty — some of them the tenants of neighbouring villas. Amongst the first of these torch-bearers T came to was an old gentleman whose face I was well acquainted with, from having frequently travelled up and down in the same train. He was a senior clerk in a government office, I believe, and was a mild looking old man with a prim face and a long neck, which he used to wrap in a wide double neckcloth. A thing, even in those days, seldom seen. Even in that moment of bitterness, I could not help being amused by the absurd figure this poor old fellow presented, with his solemn face and long cravat, doing penance with a torch in front of his own door to light up the path of our conquerors. But a more serious object now presented itself, a corporal's guard passing by with two English volunteers in charge, their hands tied behind their backs. Thoy cast an imploring glance at me, and I stepped into the road to ask the corporal what was the matter, and even ventured,

as he was passing on, to lay my hand on his sleeve. "Auf, dem Wege, Spitzbub !" cried the brute, lifting his rifle, as if to knock me down. "Must one prisoners who fire at us let shoot," he went on to add. Shot the poor fellows would have been, I suppose, if I had not interceded with an ofticer who happened to be riding by. " Herr Hauptmann,'" I cried, as loud as I could, "is this your discipline, to let unarmed prisoners be shot without orders i" The officer thus appealed to reined in his horse and halted the guard, till he heard what I had to say. My knowledge of other languages here stood me in good stead, for the prisoners, north country hands apparently, were of course utterly unable to make themselves understood, and did not even know in what they had offended. I therefore I interpreted their explanation ; they had , been left behind, while skirmishing near Ditton, in a barn, and coming out of their I hiding place with their rifles in their I hands, the latter thought they were going to tire at them from behind. It was a wonder they were not shot down on the spot. The captain heard the tale, and then told the guard to let them go, and they slunk off at once into a "byroad. He was a line soldierlike man, but nothing | could exceed the insolence of his manner, which was perhaps all the greater because it seemed not intentional, but seemed to arise from a sense of immeasurable superiority. Between the lame freiwillujvi' pleading for his comrades and the captain of the conquering arm} 7 , there was in his view an infinite gulf. Had the two me i b.en dogs, their fate could not have been decided more contemptuously. They wore let go simply because they were not worth keeping as prisoners, and, perhaps, to kill any living thing without cause went against the hanptMitim'ii sense of justice. But why speak of this insult in particular I Had not every man who lived then his tale to tell of insult and degradation I For it v>as the same story everywhere. After the first stand in line, and when once they had got us on the march, the enemy laughed at us. Our handful of regular troops was sacrificed almost to a man in a vain conflict with numbers — our volunteers and militia vith officers who did not know their work, -without ammunition, or equipment, or staff to superintend, starving in the midst of plenty, we had soon become a helpless, mob, fighting desperately here and here, but with whom, as a manoeuvring army, the disciplined invaders did just what they pleased. Happy those whose bones whitened the field of Surrey ; they, at least, v* ere spared the disgrace we lived to endure. THE ILShOXS OF EXPERIENCE. After all, the bitterest part of our reflection is, that all this misery and decay might have been .so easily prevented, and that we brought it about ourselves by our own short sighted recklessness. There, across the narrow Strait, w,b the writing on the wall, but we could not choose to read it. The warnings of the few were drowned in the voice of the multitude. Pirn er was then passing away from the class which had been used to rule, and face political dangers, and which had brought the nation with honour unsullied, I through former struggles, into the ' hands of the lower classes, uneducated, untrained to the use of political rights, and swayed by demagogues ; and the few who were wise in their generation were denounced as alarmists, or as aristocrats, who sought their own aggrandisement, by wasting public money on bloated armaments. The rich were idle, and luxurious ; the poor grudged the cost of defence. Politics had become a mere bidding for radical votes, and those who should have led the nation, -.topped rather to pander to the selfishness of tlie day, and humoured the popular cry which denounced those who would secure the defence of the nation, by enforced arming of its manhood, as interfering with the liberties of the people. Truly, the nation was ripe for a fall, but -when I reflect how a little firmness, and self-denial, or political cou- , r.tge and foresight might have averted > the disaster, I feel that the |judgment ' must really have been deserved. A nation too selfish to defend its liberty, could not have been fit to retain it. To you, my grandchildren, who are now going to seek a home in a more prosperous land, let not this bitter lesson be lost upon you, in the country of your adoption. For me, lam too old to begin life again in a strange country ; and, hard and evil as have been my days, it is not much to await in solitude tlie time which cannot now be far off, when my old bones will be laid to rest in the soil I have loved so well, and whose happiness and honour I have so long survived. — Sptxtahn; I

The Cromwell Aigus states that the petition ayaiast any alteration in the present educational system in this province, is now in course of signature in the town and district of Cromwell.

Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/OW18710826.2.15

Bibliographic details

Otago Witness, Issue 1630, 26 August 1871, Page 5

Word Count
10,189

REMINISCENCES OF A VOLUNTEER, A. D. 1925. Otago Witness, Issue 1630, 26 August 1871, Page 5

REMINISCENCES OF A VOLUNTEER, A. D. 1925. Otago Witness, Issue 1630, 26 August 1871, Page 5

Help

Log in or create a Papers Past website account

Use your Papers Past website account to correct newspaper text.

By creating and using this account you agree to our terms of use.

Log in with RealMe®

If you’ve used a RealMe login somewhere else, you can use it here too. If you don’t already have a username and password, just click Log in and you can choose to create one.


Log in again to continue your work

Your session has expired.

Log in again with RealMe®


Alert