REMINISCENCES OF A SUBALTERN.

NO. IX.

THE joke about Darby Rooney's wardrobe, and the conversation that took place between him and Gen. Mackinnon, was circulated throughout the army, and I believe there was not one regiment unacquainted with the circumstance; indeed, so general was its circulation, that it reached the head-quarters of Lord Wellington himself, and if report spoke truly, (which it don't always do,) it caused his Lordship to laugh heartily.

I have myself,-before, and since I wrote the story, often been asked if it was really a fact that we had no squads in the companies of my regiment, and I have invariably answered that we had not, and that every iota told by Bob Hardiman was true, for I think Bob's description of the Connaught Rangers altogether too rich to be contradicted or even altered; but were I myself to give a " full and true account" of the "boys," I would set them down as a parcel of lads that took the world easy, or, as they themselves would say-aisy, with a proper share of that nonchalance which is only to be acquired on service-real service; but I cannot bring myself to think them, as many did, a parcel of devils, neither will I by any manner of means try to pass them off for so many saints! but the fact is, (and I have before said so,) that there was not one regiment in the Peninsular army more severely-perhaps so severely-drilled as mine was; but I also say, without the slightest fear of contradiction, that the officers never tormented themselves or their men with too much fuss. We approached their quarters as seldom as we possibly could-I mean as seldom as was necessary-and thereby kept up that distance between officers and privates, so essential to discipline; this we considered the proper line of conduct to chalk out, and we ever acted up to it. We were amused to see some regiments whose commanding officers obliged their subalterns to parade their men at bed-time in front of their respective quarters in their blankets! Why, they looked like so many hobgoblins! but if such an observance was necessary as far as concerned the soldiers, surely a serjeant ought to be able to do this much.

The serjeants in the British army are better paid than the subalterns of any other European power, and if they are incapable of performing the regimental drudgery, it comes to this--that they either receive too much pay, or do too little duty. Upon this conviction we ever acted; we made our serjeants do the duty usually performed by officers in other regiments, and we found our account in it. Our argument was one that must be, I should conceive, obvious to the meanest capacity,-it was this: if the serjeants were proper attentive persons, as they should be from the rate of their pay, they were just as capable as commissioned officers to fulfil such duties as I have mentioned; if, on the contrary, they were idle inefficient fellows, the best method to make them acquainted with their duty was by accustoming them to perform it. Practice, they say, makes perfect, and sure enough we kept our fellows to it. There may be some few who would combat this line of reasoning, but my reply to those gentlemen is, that a certain emulation ought to exist amongst the non-com

66

missioned officers in every battalion; otherwise, how will that esprit du corps so essential to the well-being of a crack regiment be kept up? It cannot be done. Old Gen. Hamilton used to say, that a soldier without pride was not worth his salt-and old Gen. Hamilton was right; however, should there be persons sceptical enough to combat my position, backed as I think it is by so good an authority, come on and fight-if I have no fence, there is the better chance of victory. But what is any regiment the better for too much quackery? Decidedly not one whit. It is the cant to say that it is not only the better for it, but that it is an ingredient essential to its very existence. I know this; but have I found it so? Certainly not. Does it make a regiment more healthy, march better, fight better, or more staunch to its colours? I have never found that it did. Does it make the men more content with their lot, or the officers with theirs? Or-and here is a point of some consideration-does it raise the non-commissioned officers in the estimation of the soldiers, or in their estimation of themselves? I think not, and there's the rub; for I should be sorry to have it supposed that my anxiety to make the minor duties of a battalion be performed by serjeants, was meant as a cloak for the subalterns to shy their work. Heaven knows, and so do my brother subs at least such of them as are in the land of the living-that such is not my motive; but there are some curmudgeons at the head of regiments who are never at rest unless they have their unfortunate subs thrusting their noses into every nook, no matter how filthy.

If a selection of good serjeants and corporals (such as the Connaught Rangers could boast of!) be made by the officer at the head of a regiment, and if that officer will only allow those individuals to do their duty, there is not the least doubt but that they will do it-I peril myself upon the assertion, and I bet a sovereign that "the Guards" agree with me!

I well remember some of those regiments, circumstanced as I have described, during the Peninsular War; these poor fellows were much to be pitied, for they were not only obliged to fag, but to dress also, with as much scrupulous exactness as the time and place would admit of. What folly! but was Lord Wellington to blame for this? Unquestionably not. He never troubled his head about such trifles, and had the commanding officers of corps followed the example set them (of not paying too much respect to minutiæ) by the Commander-inchief, the situation of the junior officers in the army would have been far different from what it was.

Another custom prevailed in many regiments, which was attempted to be got up in mine, but we crushed it in its infancy; it was the sending a surgeon or his assistant to ascertain the state of an officer's health, should he think himself not well enough to attend an early drill.

We had in my old corps, amongst other "characters," one that, at the period I am writing about, was well known in the army to be as jovial a fellow as ever put his foot under a mess-table; his name was Fairfield; and though there were few who could sing as good a song, there was not in the whole British army a worse duty officer; indeed, it was next to impossible to catch hold of him for any duty whatever, and so well known was his dislike to all military etiquette, that the officer next to him on the roaster, the moment Fairfield's name ap

peared for guard-mounting or court-martial, considered himself as the person meant, and he was right nine times out of ten. The frequent absence of Fairfield from drill, at a time too when the regiment was in expectation of being inspected by the general of division, obliged the officer commanding to send the surgeon to ascertain the nature of his malady, which from its long continuance (on occasions of duty!) strongly savoured of a chronic complaint. The doctor found the invalid traversing his chamber rather lightly clad for an indisposed person; he was singing one of Moore's melodies, and accompanying himself with his violin, which instrument he touched with great taste. The doctor told him the nature of his visit, and offered to feel his pulse, but Fairfield turned from him, repeating the lines of Shakspeare, "Canst thou minister," &c. &c. "Well," replied the surgeon, "I am sorry for it, but I cannot avoid reporting you fit for duty." "I'm sorry you' cannot," rejoined Fairfield; " but my complaint is best known to myself!" and I feel that were I to rise as early as is necessary, I should be lost to the service in a month." Why," said the doctor, " Major Thomson says you have been lost to it ever since he first knew you, and that is now something about six years!" and he took his leave for the pur pose of making his report.

The Major's orderly was soon at Fairfield's quarters, with a message to say that his presence was required by his commanding officer. Fairfield was immediately in attendance. "Mr. Fairfield," said the Major, " your constant habit of being absent from early drill has obliged me to send the surgeon to ascertain the state of your health, and he reports that you are perfectly well, and I must say that your appearance is anything but that of an invalid-how is this?" "Don't mind him, Sir," replied Fairfield; "I am, thank God! very well now, but when the bugle sounded this morning at four o'clock, a cold shivering came over me-I think it was a touch of ague! and besides, Doctor Gregg is too short a time in the Connaught Rangers to know my habit!" "Is he?" rejoined the old Major," he must be damn'd stupid then; but that is a charge you surely can't make against me; I have been now about nineteen years in the regiment, during six of which I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance, and you will allow me to tell you, that I am not only well acquainted with your habit,' but to request you will, from this moment, change it," and with this gentle rebuke he good-humouredly dismissed him. He was an excellent duty officer ever after.

There are many who will, perhaps, say that the commanding officer should have been more rigid, and at the very least have placed the offender in arrest, but this is a false notion. An officer at the head of a regiment is often obliged or at least ought often-to shut his eyes against little irregularities, and a gentle rebuke is sometimes better than a harsher mode of proceeding; and not only the interior economy, but the interior harmony of a corps is better insured by this means, If the officers are happy, the soldiers are sure to be so; and if officers and privates are content with their lot, all must go right.

A soldier of the 88th (while that corps were stationed in Lower Canada, in 1814,) was once asked by a Yankee, "Why it was that the men of his corps never deserted when so fine an opportunity was afforded them to do so?" "Why thin," replied Paddy," is you want

to know the raison that we don't desart, I'll tell it to you nately. We have no complaint to make against our officers, and we can't be more happy than we are. Our officers and we give and take with each other, and there's the ins and outs of it." And there is the "ins" and "outs" of it: this is the grand secret.

A regiment is a piece of mechanism, and requires as much care as any other machine, whose parts are obliged to act in unison to keep it going as it ought. If a screw or two be loose, a skilful hand will easily right them without injuring the machine; but if it falls into the hands of a self-sufficient, ignorant bungler, it is sure to be injured, if not destroyed altogether; and as certain as the daylight, if it is ever placed in a situation where it must, from necessity, be allowed to act for itself where the main-spring cannot control the lesser ones, much less the great body of the machine-it will be worse than useless→→→ worse than a log-not only in the way, but not to be depended upon !

It must not, however, be supposed, that these observations are meant to favour a too little regard to that system of discipline which is so essential to be observed in the army, and without which any armybut particularly a British one-would be inefficient; they are written by one who, although he never did, or, in all human probability, ever will, attain a higher rank than these "Reminiscences" avow him to hold, has had, nevertheless, some experience; and if anything he writes now, or may write hereafter, conduces to the amusement-he is not vain enough to say information of his military readers, he will be more than repaid for his trouble.

Extremes should be avoided, and too much familiarity is as bad as too much severity. I once heard of a commanding officer of a firstrate regiment, who was in the habit of allowing the junior officers of his corps to make too free with him; he at length found it necessary to send his adjutant to inquire the reason why a young ensign, who was in the habit of absenting himself from parade, did so on one of those days which was allotted as a garrison parade? The adjutant informed the ensign, that the colonel awaited his reply. "Shall I say you are unwell?" demanded he. "Oh! no," replied the ensign, "I'It settle the matter with the commanding officer myself." The hour of dinner approached, yet no communication was received from the ensign. Passing from his quarters to the mess-room, the commanding officer met the ensign, and was about to accost him, when the latter turned his head aside, and declined recognising his colonel, who, upon arriving at the mess-room, was so dejected as to attract the notice of all the officers. Upon being asked why he was so out of spirits, the colonel, "good easy man," told a "round unvarnished tale," and, in conclusion, added, "I thought nothing of his not answering my message! but I cannot express how much I am hurt at the idea of his cutting me as he did when I wished to speak with him!!" This was un peu trop fort; and had the regiment in question been much longer under the command of the good-natured personage I have described, there is little doubt but that it would have become rather relaxed in its discipline.

The different movements amongst the contending armies in the end of the year 1811, caused it to be presumed that the campaign the following year would open with much spirit; and so it did, although

earlier than was anticipated. On the 27th of Dec. the division of Gen. Hill left its cantonments in the vicinity of Portalegre, in the expectation of surprising the French at Merida. The advanced guard of the British fell in with a party of French marauders, who, having collected, formed a square, and owing to the nature of the ground, (which was uneven,) and to the rapidity of their march, succeeded in re-entering Merida before they could be attacked by the English infantry. The French General did not await the arrival of Gen. Hill, but retreated upon Lerena, at which place he was sustained by the fifth corps, under the command of the Count D'Erlon.

Gen. Hill reached Almandralejo on the 2nd of Jan. 1812, and made a reconnoissance as far as Los Santos. A brilliant affair of cavalry took place in the environs of this town, and Lieut.-Colonel Abercromby, who commanded our detachment, completely overthrew the French horse, although they were much superior in numbers. This advantage made Marshal Soult apprehensive of a more serious attack, and he concentrated the forces of Victor and Laval; but Gen. Hill, satisfied with having created an alarm in the French army of the south, retired to his former quarters on the frontiers of Portugal.

The advance of Gen. Hill was but a feint to deceive the enemy; it was made with the view of making Marshal Marmont believe that our forces on the left of the Tagus were much more numerous than they really were; thereby inducing him not to harbour any apprehensions respecting Ciudad Rodrigo, the possession of which, Lord Wellington had resolved on. Marmont's security was besides increased by the facility with which the blockade of that fortress had been raised three months before, through the bare junction of four French divisions with the army of the Count Dorsenne; a manoeuvre which might be repeated at any time with an equal probability of success. He not only quartered his army in very extensive cantonments, but also detached Gen. Montbrun, with three divisions, to co-operate with Marshal Suchet in the kingdom of Valencia.

Intimately acquainted with these details, Lord Wellington redoubled his efforts in the arrangement of all that was necessary to carry on the siege of Ciudad Rodrigo with vigour. The third division, which was one of those destined to take a part in the attack, broke up from its cantonments on the morning of the 4th of Jan. 1812. Carpio, Espeja, and Pastores, were occupied by our troops, and the greatest activity prevailed throughout every department, but more especially in that of the engineers. All the cars in the country were put into requisition for the purpose of conveying fascines, gabions, and the different materials necessary, to the Convent de la Carida, distant a league and half from Rodrigo: the guns were at Gallegos, and every thing was in that state of preparation which announced that a vigorous attack was about to be made in the depth of a severe winter, against a fortress that had withstood for twenty-five days all the efforts of Marshal Massena, in the summer of 1810, when it was only occupied by a weak garrison of Spaniards; yet, nevertheless, every one felt confident, and the soldiers burned with impatience to wipe away the blot of the former year in the unfortunate siege of San Christoval and Badajoz.

The attack of Ciudad Rodrigo, although sudden in its developement, was nevertheless one of long contemplation; and the result, which was