m^ D UKE UNIVERSIT Y LIBRARY The Glenn Negley Collection of Utopian Literature Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive in 2010 witii funding from Duke University Libraries littp://www.arcliive.org/details/fallofenglandbatOOclies r c |jtc Jail 4 falimd? •"The writer, Evmg aborrt 1925, giTcs Ms 3«n an account ot Ms adyentnre* as a VohmtcCT during the invasion of England fifty years befosev and' aa powerful is the narrative, so intensely real the impxesaicm it produces, that the coolest disbeliever in panics cannot lead it withont a flush of annoyance, or close it withoat the thoo^t that aifte? all, as the wodd now stands, some such hmniliatiOB for England is at least poeeible." # * » * "KthewratA is, as reported. Col. Hsmley, then CoL Handey, when &e wrote- Wee- ebarming story of "Lady Lee's Widowhood," HMseoneeived, as » BoveHst, the natura of his own powers. He shouid rival Defoe, not Anthony Trollope." —Loudon ^'' Spectatoe" Jfojt 13, ISTE. }\t Jfall of f ttgland THE BATTLE OF DORKIIfe : REMINISCENCES OF A VOLUNTEER. '~1 By a Oordtibutar to "Blackwood.'' NEW YORK: G. P. PUTNAM & SONS, ASSOCIATION BUILDING, TWENTY-THIRD STREET. 1871. Lakox & HiujiAN, Printers and Sterbottpees 108 TO 114 WoosTKR St., N. Y. THE BATTLE OF DORKING: REMINISCENCES OP A VOLUNTEER. YOU ask me to tell you, my grand -cliildren, something about my own share in the great events that hap- pened fifty years ago. 'Tis sad work turning back to that bitter page in our history, but you may, perhaps, take profit in your new homes from the lesson it teaches. For us in England, it came too late. And yet we had plenty of warnings, if Ave had only made use of them. The danger did not come on us unawares. It burst on us suddenly, 'tis true, but its coming was foreshadowed plainly enough to open our eyes, if we had not been wil- fully blind. AVe English have only ourselves to blame for the humiliation which has been brought on the land. Venerable old age ! Dishonorable old age, I say, when it follows a manhood dishonored as ours has been. I declare, even now, though fifty years have passed, I can hardly look a young man in the face when I think I am one of those in whose youth happened this degradation of Old England — one of those who betrayed the trust handed down to us unstained by our fore-fathers. What a proud and happy country was this fifty years ago ! Free trade had been working for more than a quarter of a century, and there seemed to be no end to the riches it was bringing us. London was growing bigger and bigger; you could not build houses fast enough for the rich people who wanted to live in them, the 6 THE BATTLE OF DORKING: merchants who made the money, and came from all parts of the world to settle there, and the lawyers, and doctors, and engineers and others, and trades-people, who got their share out of the profits. The streets reached down to Croydon and Wimbledon, which my father could re- member quite country places ; and people used to say that Kingston and Reigate would soon be joined to Lon- don. We thought we could go on building and multi- plying for ever. 'Tis true, that even then there was no lack of poverty ; the people who had no money went on increasing as fast as the rich, and pauperism was already beginning to be a difficulty ; but if the rates were high, there was plenty of money to pay them with ; and as for what were called the middle classes, there really seemed no limit to their increase and prosperity. People in those days thought it quite a matter of course to bring a dozen children into the world — or, as it used to be said, Providence sent them that number of babies ; and if they couldn't always marry off all the daughters, they used to manage to provide for the sons, for there were new open- ings to be found in all the professions, or in the Govern- ment offices, which went on steadily getting larger. Be- sides, in those days young men could be sent out to India, or into the army or navy; and even then emi- gration was not uncommon, although not the regular custom it is now. Schoolmasters, like all other profes- sional classes, drove a capital trade. They did not teach very much, to be sure, but new schools with their four or five hundred boys were springing up all over the country. Fools that we were ! We thought that all this wealth and prosperity were sent us by Providence, and could not stop coming. In our blindness, we did not see that we were merely a big workshop, making up the things which came from all parts of the world ; and that if REltlNISCEXCES OF A VOLUNTEER. 7 other nations stopped sending us raw goods to work up, we could not jjroduce them ourselves. True, we had in those days an advantage in our cheap coal and iron ; and had we taken care not to waste the fuel, it might have lasted us longer. But even then there were signs that coal and iron would soon become cheaper in other parts ; while as to food and other things, England was not better off than it is now. We were so rich simply because other nations from all parts of the world were in the habit of sending their goods to us to be sold or manufactured ; and we thought that this would last for- ever. And so, perhaps, it might have lasted, if we had only taken proper means to keep it ; but, in our folly, we were too careless even to insure our prosperity, and after the course of trade was turned away it would not come back again. And yet, if ever a nation had a plain warning, we had. If we were the greatest trading country, our neigh- bors were the leading military power in Europe, They were driviag a good trade, too, for this was before their foolish communism (about which you will hear when you are older) had ruined the rich without benefitting the poor, and they were in many respects the first nation in Europe ; but it was on their army that they prided them- selves, most — and with reason. They had beaten the Russians, and the Austrians, and the Prussians too, in by-gone years, and they thought they were invincible. Well do I remember the great review held at Paris by the Emperor Napoleon, during the great Exhibition, and how proud he looked showing off his splendid Guards to the assembled kings and princes. Yet three years after- wards, the force so long deemed the first in Europe was igiiominiously beaten, and the whole army taken prison- ers. Such a defeat had never happened before in the world's history ; and with this proof before us of the 8 THE BAITLE OF DOKKING : folly of disbelieving in the possibility of disaster, merely because it had never happened before, it might have been supposed that we should have the sense to take the lesson to heart. And the country was certainly roused for a time, and a cry was raised that the army ought to be reorganised, and our defences strengthened against the enormous power for sudden attacks which it was seen other nations were able to put forth. But our Gov- ernment had come into office on a cry of retrenchment, and could not bring themselves to eat their own pledges. There was a radical section of their party, too, whose votes had to be secured by conciliation, and which blindly demanded a reduction of armaments as the price of allegiance. This party always decried military estab- lishments as part of a fixed policy for reducing the influ- ence of the Crown and the aristocracy. They could not understand that the times had altogether changed, that the Crown had really no power, and that the Govern- ment merely existed at the pleasure of the House of Commons, and that even Parliament-rule was beginning to give way to mob-law. At any rate, the Ministry were only too glad of this excuse to give np all the strong points of a scheme which they were not really in earnest about. The fleet and the Channel, they said, were sufiicient protection. So the army was kept down, and the militia and volunteers were left untrained as be- fore, because to call them out for drill would " interfere with the industry of the country.." We could have gi\en up some of the industry of those days forsooth, and yet be busier than we ai'e now. But why tell you a tale you have so often heard already? The nation, although uneasy, was misled by the false security its leaders professed to feel ; the warning given by the dis- asters that overtook France Avas allowed to pass by un- heeded. The French trusted in their arniy and in its REMI2^ISCEXCES OF A VOLUNTEER. 9 great reputation ; we in our fleet ; and in each case the result of this blind confidence Avas disaster, such as our forefathers in their hardest struggles could not have even imagined. I need hardly tell you how the crash came about. First, the rising in India drew away a part of our small army ; then came the difficulty with America, which had been threatening for years, and we sent ofi" ten thousand men to defend Canada — a handful which did not go far to strengthen the real defences of that country, but formed an irresistible temptation to the Americans to try and take them prisoners, especially as the contingent included three battalions of the Guards. Thus the re- gular army at home was even smaller than usual, and nearly half of it was in Ireland to check the talked-of Fenian invasion fitting out in the West. "Worse still — though I do not know it would really have mattered as things turned out — the fleet was scattered abroad; some shij3S to guard the West Indies, others to check priva- teering in the Chinese seas, and a large party to try and protect our colonies on the Xorthern Pacific shore of America, where, with incredible folly, we continued to retain possessions which we could not possibly defend. America was not the great power forty years ago that it is now; but for us to try and hold territory on her shores which could only be reached by sailing round the Horn, was as absurd as if she had attempted to take the Isle of Man before the independence of Ireland. We see this plainly enough now, but we were all blind then. It was while we were in this state, with our ships all over the world, and our little bit of an army cut up into detachments, that the Secret Treaty was published, and Holland and Denmark were annexed. People say now that we might have escaped the troubles which came on us if we had at any rate kept quiet till our other difficulty 1* 10 THE BATTLE OF DORKING: was settled ; but the English were always an impulsive lot : the whole country was boiling over with indigna- tion, and the Government, egged on by the press, and going with the stream, declared war. We had always got out of scrapes before, and we believed our old luck and pluck would somehow pull us through. Then, of course, there was bustle and hurry all over the land. Not that the calling up of the army reserves caused much stir, for I think there were only about 5,000 altogether, and a good many of these were not to be found when the time came ; but recruiting was going on all over the country, with a tremendous high bounty, 50,000 more men having been voted for the army. Then there was a ballot bill passed for adding 55,000 men to the militia ; why a round number was not fixed on I don't know, but the Prime Minister said that this was the exact quota wanted to put the defences of the country on a sound footing. Then the shipbuilding that began ! Ironclads, despatch-boats, gunboats, monitors, — every building-yard in the country got its job, and they were offering ten shillings a-day wages for anybody who could drive a rivet. This didn't improve the recruiting, you may suppose. I remember, too, there was a squabble in the House of Commons about whether the artisans should be drawn for the ballot, as they were so much wanted, and I think they got an exemption. This sent numbers to the yards ; and if we had had a couple of years to prepare instead of a couple of weeks, I daresay we should have done very well. It was on a Monday that the declaration of war was announced, and in a few hours we got our first inkling of the sort of preparation the enemy had made for the event which they had really brought about, although the actual declaration was made by us. A pious appeal to the God of battles, whom it was said we hfid aroused, „■«> ■■"^^aea:, REMINISCENCES OF A VOLUNTEER. 11 was telegraphed back ; and from that moment all com- munication with the north of Europe was cut off. Our embassies and legations were packed off at an hour's notice, and it was as if we had suddenly came back to the middle ages. The dumb astonishment visible all over London the next morning, when the papers came out void of news, merely hinting at what had happened, was one of the most startling things in this war of sur- prises. But everything had been arranged beforehand ; nor ought we to have been surprised, for we had seen the same Power, only a few months before, move down half a million of men on a few days' notice, to conquer the greatest military nation in Europe, with no more fuss than our War Office used to make over the transport of a brigade from Aldershot to Brighton — and this, too, without the ullies it had now. What happened now was not a bit more wonderful in reality ; but people of this country could not bring themselves to believe that what had never occurred before to England could ever pos- sibly happen. Like our neighbors, we became wise when it was too late. Of course the papers were not long in getting news — even the mighty organization set at work could not shut out a special correspondent ; and in a very few days, although the telegraphs and railways were intercepted right across Europe, the main facts oozed out. An em. bargo had been laid on all the shipping in every port from the Baltic to Ostend ; the fleets of the two great Powers had moved out, and it was supposed were assem- bled in the great northern harbor, and troops were hur- rying on board all the steamers detained in these places, most of which were British vessels. It was clear that invasion was intended. Even then we might have been saved, if the fleet had been ready. The forts which guarded the flotilla were perhaps too strong for shipping 12 TDE BATTLE OF DOEKING : to attempt ; but an iron-clad or two, handled as British sailors knew how to use them, might have destroyed or damaged a part of the transports, and delayed the expe- dition, givhig us what we wanted, time. Bnt then the Lest part of the fleet had been decoyed down to the Dardanelles, and what remained of the Channel squadron was looking after Fenian fillibusters ofl' the west of Ire- land ; so it was ten days before the fleet was got together, and by that time it was plain the enemy's preparations were too far advanced to be stopped by a coup-de-main. Information, which came chiefly through Italy, came slowly, and was more or less vague and uncertain ; but this much was known, that at least a couple of hundred thousand men were embarked or ready to be put on board ships, and that the flotilla was guarded by more iron-clads than we could then muster. I suppose it was the uncertainty as to the point the enemy would aim at for landing, and the fear lest he should give us the go- by, that kept the fleet for several days in the Downs, but it was not until the Tuesday fortnight after the declara- tion of war that it weighed anchor and steamed away for the North Sea. Of course you have read about the Queen's visit to the fleet the day before, and how she sailed round the ships in her yacht, and went on board the flag-ship to take leave of the admiral ; how, over- come with emotion, she told him that the safety of the country was committed to his keeping. You remember, too, the gallant old officer's reply, and how all the ships' yards were manned, and how lustily the tars cheered as her Majesty was rowed ofl'. The account was of course telegraphed to London, and the high spirits of the fleet infected the wliole town. I was outside the Charing Cross station when the Queen's special train from Dover arrived, and from the cheering and shouting which greeted her as she drove away, you might have supposed REMINISCENCES OF A VOLUNTEER. 13 we liad already won a great victory. The journals which had gone in strongly for the army reduction car- ried out during the session, and had been nervous and desponding in tone daring the past fortnight, suggesting all sorts of compromises as a way of getting out of the war, came out in a very jubilant form next morning. " Panic-stricken inquirers," they said, " ask now, where are the means of meeting the invasion ? We reply that the invasion will never take place. A British fleet, manned by British sailors, whose courage and enthusiasm are reflected in the people of this country, is already on the way to meet the presumptuous foe. The issue of a contest between British ships and those of any other country, under anything like equal odds, can never be doubtful. England awaits with calm confidence the issue of the imjjending action. Such were the words of the leading article, and so we all felt. It was on Tuesday, the 10th of August, that the fleet sailed from the Downs. It took with it a sub- marine cable to lay down as it advanced, so that con- tinuous communication was kept up, and the papers were publishing special editions every few minutes with the latest news. This was the first time such a thing had been done, and the feat was accepted as a good omen. Wiiether it is true that the Admiralty made use of the cable to keep on sending contradictory orders, Avliich took the command out of the admiral's hands, I can't say; but all that the admiral sent in return was a few messages of the briefest kind, which neither the Admi- ralty nor any one else could have made any use of. Such a ship had gone off" reconnoitring; such another had rejoined — fleet was in latitude so and so. This went on till the Thursday morning. I had just come up to town by train as usual, and was walking to my office, when the newsboys began to cry, "New edition — • 14 THE BATTLE OF DOKKIXC. : enemy's fleet in siglit ! " You may imagine the scene in London ! Business still weut on at the banks, for bills matured although the independence of the country was being fought out under our own eyes, so to say ; and the speculators were active enough. But even with the people who were making and losing their fortunes, the interest in the fleet overcame everything else ; men who went to pay in or draw out their money stopped to show the last bulletin to the cashier. As for the street, you could hardly get along for the crowd stopping to buy and read the papers ; while at every house or office the members sat restlessly in the common room, as if to keep together for company, sending out some one of their number every few minutes to get the latest edition. At least this is what happened in our office ; but to sit still was as impossible as to do anything, and most of us went out and wandered about among the crowd, under a sort of feeling that the news was got quicker at in this way. Bad as were the times coming, I think the sickening sus- pense of that day, and the shock which followed, was almost the worst that we underwent. It was about ten o'clock that the first telegram came; an hour later the wire announced that the admii'al had signalled to form line of battle, and shortly afterwards that the order was given to bear down on the enemy and engage. At twelve came the announcement, " Fleet opened fire about three miles to leeward of us " — that is, the ship with the cable. So far all had been expectancy, then came the first token of calamity, " An iron-clad has been blown up " — ■* the enemy's torpedoes are doing great damage " — " the flag- ship is laid aboard the enemy " — " the flagship appears to be sinking " — " the vice-admiral has signalled " — there the cable became silent, and, as you know, we heard no more till two days afterwards. The solitary iron-clad which escaped the disaster steamed into Portsmouth. REMINISCENCES OP A VOLUKTEEE. 15 Then the whole story came out — how our sailors, gallant as ever, had tried to close with the enemy ; how the latter evaded the conflict at close quarters, and, sheering off, left behind them the fatal engines which sent our ships, one after the other, to the bottom ; how all this happened almost in a few minutes. The Govern- ment, it appears, had received warnings of this invention ; but to the nation this stunning blow was utterly unex- pected. That Thursday I had to go home early for regimental drill, but it was impossible to remain doing nothing, so when that was over I went up to town again, and after waiting in expectation of news which never came, and missing the midnight train, I walked home. It was a hot, sultry night, and I did not arrive till near sunrise. The whole town was quite still — the lull before the storm ; and as I let myself in with my latch-key, and went softly up-stairs to my room to avoid waking the sleeping household, I could not but contrast the peace- fulness of the morning — no sound breaking the silence but the singing of the birds in the garden — with the passionate remorse and indignation that would break out with the day. Perhaps the inmates of the rooms were as wakeful as myself; but the house in its stillness was just as it used to be when I came home alone from balls or parties in the happy days gone by. Tired though I was, I could not sleep, so I went down to the river and had a swim; and, on returning, found the household was assembled for early breakfast. A sorrow- ful household it was, although the burden pressing on each was partly an unseen one. My father, doubting whether his firm could last through the day ; my mother, her distress about my brother, now with his regiment on the coast, already exceeding that which she felt for the public misfortune, had come down, although hardly fit to leave her room. My sister Clara was worst of all, for she 16 THE BATTLE OF DORKING: could not but try to disguise her special interest in the fleet ; and though we had all guessed that her heart was given to the young lieutenant in the flagship — the first to go down — a love unclaimed could not be told, nor could we express the symjjathy we felt for the poor girl. That breakfast, the last meal we ever had together, was soon ended, and my father and I went up to town by an early train, and got there just as the fatal announcement of the loss of the fleet was telegraphed from Portsmouth. The panic and excitement of that day — how the funds went down to 35 ; the run upon the bank and its stoppfige ; the fall of half the houses in the city ; how the Government issued a notification suspending sj^ecie payment and the tendering of bills — this last precaution too late for most firms, Carter & Co. among the number, which stopped payment as soon as my father got to the ofiice; the call to arms, and the unanimous response of the country — all this is history which I need not repeat. You wish to hear about my own share in the business at the time. Well, volunteering had increased immensely from the day war was proclaimed, and our regiment went lip in a day or two from its usual strength of 600 to near- ly 1000. But the stock of rifles was deficient. We were promised a further supply in a few days, which, how- ever, we never received ; and while waiting for them the regiment had to be divided into two parts, the recruits drilling with the rifles in the morning, and we old hands in the evening. The failures and stoppage of work on this black Friday threw an immense number of young men out of employment, and we recruited up to 1400 strong by the next day ; but what was the use of all these men without arms? On Saturday it was announced tliat a lot of smooth-bore muskets in store at the tower would be served out to regiments applying for them, and a regular scramble took place among the volunteers for REMINISCENCES OF A VOLUNTEER. 17 them, and our people got hold of a couple of hundred. But you might almost as well have tried to learn rifle- drill Mnth a broomstick as with old brown bess ; besides there was no smooth-bore ammunition in the country. A national subscription was opened for the manufacture of rifles at Birmingham, which ran up to a couple of mil- lion in two days, but, like every thing else, this came too late. To return to the volunteers : camps had been formed a fortnight before at Dover, Brighton, Harwich, and other places, of regulars and militia, and the head- quarters of most of the volunteer regiments were at- tached to one or other of them, and the volunteers them- selves used to go down for drill from day to day, as they could spare time, and on Friday an order went out that they should be permanently embodied ; but the metro- politan volunteers were still kept about London as a sort of reserve, till it could be seen at what jioint the inva- sion would take place. We .were all told ofl" to brigades and divisions. Our brigade consisted of the 4th Royal Surrey Militia, the 1st Surrey Administrative Battalion, as it was called, at Clapham, the 7th Surrey Volunteers at Southwark, and ourselves ; but only our battalion and the militia were quartered in the same place, and the whole brigade had merely two or three afternoons toge- ther at brigade exercise in Bushey Park before the march took place. Our brigadier belonged to a line regiment in Ireland, and did not join till the very morning the order came. Meanwhile, during the preliminary fort- night, the militia colonel conmianded. But though we volunteers were busy with our drill and preparations, those of us, who, like myself, belonged to Government ofiices, had more than enough of office work to do, as you may suppose. The volunteer clerks were allowed to leave office at four o'clock, but the rest were kept hard at the desk far into the nioiht. Orders to the lord- 18 THE BATTLE OF DORKING: lieutenants, to the magletrates, notifications, all the ar- rangements for cleaning out the work-houses for hos- pitals — these and a hundred other things had to be managed in our office, and there was as much bustle in- doors as out. Fortunate we were to be so busy — the people to be pitied were those who had nothing to do. And on Sunday (that was the 15th August) work went on just as usual. We had an early parade and drill, and I went up to town by the nine o'clock train in my uni- form, taking my rifle with me in case of accidents, and luckily too, as it trurned out, a Mackintosh overcoat. When I got to Waterloo there were all sorts of rumors afloat, A fleet had been seen oft' the downs, and some of the despatch boats which were hovering about the coasts brought news that there was a large flotilla off Harwich, but nothing could be seen from the shore, as the weather was hazy. The enemy's light ships had taken and sunk all the fishing-boats they could catch, to prevent the news of their whereabouts reaching us, but a few escaped during tlie night, and reported that the Inconstant frigate coming home from North America, without any knowledge of what had taken place, had sailed right into the enemy's fleet and been captured. In town the troops were all getting ready for a move ; the guards in the Wellington Barracks were under arms, and their baggage wagons packed and drawn up in the Bird-cage Walk. The usual guard at the Horse Guards had been withdrawn, and orderlies and statt-ofticers were going to and fro. All this I saw on the way to my oftice, where I worked away till twelve o'clock, and then feeling hungry after my early breakfast, I went across Parliament Street to my club to get some luncheon. There were about half-a-dozen men in the cofi*ee-room, none of whom I knew ; but in a minute or two, Danvers of the Treasury entered in a tremendous hurry. From REMINISCENCES OF A VOLUNTEER. 19 him I got the first bit of authentic news I had had that day. The enemy had landed in force near Harwich, and the metropolitan regiments were ordered down there to reinforce the troops already collected in that neighbour- hood ; his regiment was to parade at one o'clock, and he had come to get something to eat before starting. We bolted a hurried lunch, and were just leaving the club when a messenger from the Treasury came running into the hall. " Oh, Mr. Danvers," said he, " I've come to look for you, sir ; the secretary says that all the gentlemen are wanted at the office, and that you must please not one of you go with the regiments." " The devil ! " cried Danvers. " Do you know if that order extends to all the public offices ? I asked. " I don't know," said the man, " but I believe it do. I know there's messengers gone round to all the clubs and luncheon-bars to look for the gentlemen ; the secre- tary says it's quite impossible any one can be spared just now, there's so much work to do; there's orders just come to send off our records to Birmingham to- night." I flid not wait to condole with Danvers; but, just glancing up Whitehall to see if any of our messen- gei-s were in pursuit, I ran off as hard as I could for "Westminster Bridge, and so to the Waterloo station. The place had quite changed its aspect since the morning. The regular service of trains had ceased, and the station and approaches were full of troops, among them the Guards and artillery. Everything was very orderly; the men had piled arms, and were standing about in groups. There was no sign of high spirits or enthusiasm. Matters had become too serious. Every man's face reflected the general feelins that we had ne- 20 TUE BATTLE OF DORKIXG : glected the warnings given us, and that now the danger so long derided as impossible and absurd had really- come and found us unprepared. But the soldiers, if grave, looked determined, like men who meant to do their duty whatever might happen. A train full of Guardsmen was just starting for Guildford. I was told it would stop at Surbiton, and, with several other volun- teers, hurrying like myself to join our regiment, got a place in it. We did not arrive a moment too soon, for the regiment was marching from Kingston down to the station. The destination of our brigade was the east coast. Empty carriages were drawn up in the siding, and our regiment was to go first. A lai'ge crowd was assembled to see it ofi", including the recruits who had joined during the last fortnight, and who formed by far the largest part of our strength. They were to stay be- hind, and were certainly very much in the way already ; for as all the officers and sergeants belonged to the active part, there was no one to keep discipline among them, and they came crowding around us, breaking the ranks and making it difficult to get into the train. Here I saw our new brigadier for the first time. He was a soldier- like man, and no doubt knew his duty, but he appeared new to volunteers, and did not seem to know how to deal with gentlemen privates. I wanted very much to run home and get my greatcoat and knapsack, which I had bought a few days ago, but feared to be left behind ; a goocl-natured recruit volunteered to fetch them for me, but he had not returned before we started, and I began the campaign with a kit consisting of a mackintosh and a small pouch of tobacco. It was a tremendous squeeze in the train ; for, besides the ten men sitting down, there were three or four stand- ing up in every compartment, and the afternoon was close and sultry, and there were so many stojjpages on EEMINISCENCES OF A VOLUNTEER. 21 the way that we took nearly an hour and a half crawling up to Waterloo. It was between five and six in the afternoon when we arrived there, and it was nearly seven before we marched up to the Shoreditch station. The whole place was filled up with stores and ammunition, to be sent off to the East, so we piled arms in the street and scattered about to get food and drink, of which most of us stood in need, especially the latter, for some were already feeling the worse for the heat and crush. I was just stepping into a public-house with Travers, when who should drive up but his pretty wife ! Most of our friends had paid their adieus at the Surbiton sta- tion, but she had di'iven up by the road in his brougham, bringing their little boy to have a last look at papa. She had also brought his knapsack and greatcoat, and, what was still more acceptable, a basket containing fowls, tongue, bread-and-butter, and biscuits, and a couple of bottles of claret — which priceless luxuries they insisted on my sharing. Meanwhile the hours went on. The 4th Surrey Mili- tia, which had marched all the way from Kingston, had come up, as well as the other volunteer corps ; the sta- tion had been partly cleared of the stores that encum- bered it ; some artillery, two militia regiments, and a battalion of the line, had been despatched, and our turn to start had come, and long lines of carriages were drawn up ready for us ; but still we remained in the street. You may fancy the scene. There seemed to be as many people as ever in London, and we could hardly move for the crowds of spectators — fellows hawking fruits and volunteers' comforts, newsboys, and so forth, to say noth- ing of the cabs and omnibuses ; while orderlies and staff- officers were constantly riding up with messages. A good many of tlie militiamen, and some of our people, too, had taken more than enough to drink ; perhaps a 22 THE BATTLE OF DORKING: hot sun had told on empty stomachs ; anyhow, they be- came very noisy. The din, dirt, and heat were inde- scribable. So the evening wore on, and all the informa- tion our officers could get from the brigadier, who ap- peared to be acting under another general, was, that orders had come to stand fast for the present. Gradually the street became quieter and cooler. The brigadier, who, by way of setting an example, had remained for some hours without leaving his saddle, had got a chaii out of a shop, and sat nodding in it ; most of the men were lying down or sitting on the pavement — some sleeping, some smoking. In vain had Travers begged his wife to go home. She declared that, having come so far, she would stay and see the last of us. The brougham had been sent away to a by-street, as it blocked up the road ; so he sat on a doorstep, she by him on the knapsack. Little Arthur, who had been de- lighted at the bustle and the uniforms, and in high spirits, became at last very cross, and eventually cried himself to sleep in his father's arms, his golden hair and one little dimpled arm hanging over his shoulder. Thus went on the weary hours, till suddenly the assembly sounded, and we all started up. We were to return to Waterloo. The landing on the east was only a feint — so ran the rumor — the real attack was on the south. Anything seemed better than indecision and delay, and, tired though we wei-e, the march back was gladly hailed. Mrs. Travers, who made us take the remains of the luncheon with us, we left to look for her carriage; little Arthur, who was awake again, but very good and quiet, in her arms. We did not reach Waterloo till nearly midnight, and there was some delay in starting again. Several volun- teer and militia regiments had arrived from the north ; the station and all its approaches were jammed up with REMINISCENCES OF A YOLUNTEEir. 23 men, and trains were being despatched away as fast as they could be made up. All this time no news had reached us since the first announcement ; but the excite- ment then aroused had now passed away under the in- fluence of fatigue and want of sleep, and most of us dozed off as soon as we got under way. I did, at anv rate, and was awoke by the train stopping at Leather- head. There was an up-train returning to town, and some persons in it were bringing up news from the coast. We could not, from our part of the train, hear what they said, but the rumor was passed up from one carriage to another. The enemy had landed in force at Worthing. Their position had been attacked by the troops from the camp near Brighton, and the action would be renewed in the morning. The volunteers had behaved very well. This was all the information we could get. So, then, the invasion had come at last. It was clear, at any rate, from what was said, that the enemy had not been driven back yet, and Ave should be in time most likely to take a share in the defence. It was sunrise when the train crawled into Dorking, for there had been numerous stoppages on the way; and here it Avas pulled up for a long time, and we were told to get out and stretch ourselves — an order gladly res- ponded to, for we had been very closely packed all night. Most of us, too, took the opportunity to make an early breakfairrEER. 43 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 cen- tre, Avith a sudden gleam of evening sunshine lighting it up. The steep, 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 ofiiccrs waving their swords, the columns closing up and gradually making way. Our people were almost con- cealed 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, 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, halt- ing to turn round and fire ; we could see a mounted oflicer of the guards riding up and do\vn encouraging them to be steady. Now came our 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 ; 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 44 THE BATTLE OF DORKING: 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 brigadier clattered on horseback up the lane. " Now, then, gentle- men, give it to them hot," he cried ; and fire 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 be the last ; escape seemed impos- sible ; but I saw no 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 fx'ont. 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 us, firing as they went, but as steady 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 oftice, dead on his back from a bullet through his forehead, his hand still grasp- ing his rifle. At every step was some friend or acquaint- ance 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 his lungs, and blood was REMINISCENCES OP A VOLUNTEER. 45 coming from his month. I Avas lifting him, but tlie cry of agony he gave stopped me. I then saw that this Avas not his only Avound; his thigh was smashed by a bullet (which must have struck him when standing on tlie bank), and the blood streaming down mixed in a muddy puddle Avith the rain-Avater under him. Still he could not be left here, so, lifting him up as well as I could, I caiTied him through the gate Avhich led out of the lane at the back to where our camp hospital Avas 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, braA'C felloAV though he was ; 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 lie had got a cart doAvn in the hoUoAV, and Avould endeaA'Our to take off his master at once to Kingston, when a staff-officer rode up to call us to the ranks. "You really must not straggle in this way, gentlemen," he said ; '' pray keep your ranks." " But Ave can't leaA'c our Avounded to be trodden doAvn and die," cried one of our fellows. "Beat off the enemy tirst, sir, he replied. " Gentlemen, do, pray, join your regiments, or Ave shall be a regular mob." And, no doubt he did not speak too soon ; for besides our fclloAra straggling to the rear, lots of volunteers from the regi- ments in reserve Avere running forward to help, till tlie whole ground Avas dotted Avith groups of men. I hastened back to my post, but I had 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 tlie ground now held by the Guards. All 46 THE nATTLE OF DOKKIXG : this time, although the musketry had Blackened, the ar- tillery 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. Tlie space in front was thickly strewed with dead or badly wounded, and beyond the bodies of the fallen enemy could just be seen — for it was now getting dusk — the 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 brigade-major came moving up the lane on foot (I suppose his horse had been shot), crying, " Stand to your arms, Volunteers ! they're com- ing on again ; " and we found ourselves a second time en- gaged in a hot miisketry fire. How long it went on I cannot now remember, but we could distinguish clearly the thick line of skirmishers, about sixty paces ofi", and mounted officers among them; and we seemed to be keeping them well in check, for they were quite exposed to our fire, while we were protected nearly up to our Bhoulders, when — 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 firing up 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 caine about I cannot recollect, or whether it was without orders, but in a short time we found ourselves out of the lane and drawn uf> in a straggling line about thirty yards in rear of it — at our end, that is, the other flank had fallen back REMINISCENCES OP A YOLUNTEETJ. 47 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 retreat- ing, 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 — I 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 ran, some of them stopped to meet us, 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 Avas 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 lane too, but we were now all out of order ; there was no one to say what to do ; the enemy begun to line tlie hedge and open fire ; and they were streaming past our left ; afid how it came about I know not, but we found our- selves falling back towards our right rear, scarce any semblance of a line remaining, and the volunteers who liad given way on our left mixed up witli us, and adding to the confusion. It was now nearly dark. On the slopes which Ave were retreating to Avas a large mass of reserves draAvn up in 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 toAvards their ranks, and in a few moments the Avhole slope of the hill became a scene of confusion that I cannot attempt to 48 THE r.AlTLE OF DOliKIXG: describe, regiments and detachments mixed up in hope- less disorder. Most 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 enemy 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 the bright flashes of their fire. In our confusion we had jammed up a line regiment immediately behind us, and its colonel and some staff officers were in vain 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, appear to deploy and advance down the slope. I have also a dim recollection of seeing the Life Guards ti'ot past the front, and push on towards the town — a last desperate attempt to save the day — before we left the field. Our adjutant, who had got sejjarated 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, aiM wagons, 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 fugitives, and there we reformed the remains of the com- ])anies. Telling us to halt, he rode off" to try and obtain orders, an schnell wie die Franzosischen Mobloten." " Gewiss," grunted a hulking lout from the floor, lean- ing on his elbow, and sending out a cloud of smoke from his ugly jaws; und da sind hier etwa gute Schulzen." 60 TnE BATTLE OP BORKIXG : " Hast recht, lange Peter, " answered number one ; *' wenn die Schurken so gut exerciren wie schiitzen konn- ten, so waren wir heute niclit bier ! " " liecbt ! reclit ! " said the second ; " das exerciren macht den guten Soldaten." Wbat more criticisms on tbe shortcomings of our un- fortunate volunteers might have passed I did not stop to hear, being interrupted by a sound on the stairs. Mrs. Travers was standing on the landing-place ; I limped up the stairs to meet her. Among the many pictures of those fatal days engraven on my memory, I remember none 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 disordered round 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 m}^ selfishness in neglecting you so long ; but you M'ill understand " — glancing at the door above — " how occupied I have been." " Where," I began, "is" " my boy?" she answered, anticipating my question. " I have laid him by his father. But now your wounds must be cared for ; how pale and faint you look ! — rest here a moment," — and, descending to the dining-room, she returned with some wine, which I grate- fully drank, and then, making me sit down on the top step of the stairs, she brought water and linen, and cut- ting off the sleeve of my coat, bathed and bandaged my wounds, 'Twas I who felt selfish for thus adding to lier troubles ; but in truth I was too weak to have much will left, and stood in need of the help which she forced me REMINISCENCES OF A VOLUNTEER. 61 to accept ; and the dressing of my wounds afforded in- describable relief. While thus tending me, she explained in broken sentences how matters stood. Every room but her own, and the litthe parlor 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, and they were rough and boorish, but not un- civil. I should now go, she said, when my wounds were dressed, to look after my own home, where I might be wanted; for herself, she wished only to be allowed to remain watching there — pointing to the room where 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 arrangement 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 sym- pathy. Outside the house there was a good deal of move- ment and bustle ; many carts going along, the wagoners, 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 neigh- boring villas. Almost the first of these torch-bearers I came to was an old gentleman whose face I was well ac- quainted with, from having frequently traveled up and down in the same train with him. lie was a senior clerk in a government office, I believe, and was a mild-looking 62 TUB BATTLE OF DOEKING : 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 bit- terness, I could not help being ^used 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 corpo- ral's guard passing by, with two English volunteers in charge, their hands tied behind their backs. They cast an imploring glance at me, and I stepped into the road to ask the corpoi-al what was the matter, and even ven- tured, as he was passing on, to lay my hand on his sleeve. " Auf dem Wege, Spitzbube ! " cried the brute, lifting his rifle as if to knock me down. " Must one pri- soners who fire at us let shoot," he went on to add ; and shot the poor fellows would have been, I suppose, if I had not interceded with an ofiicer who happened to be riding by. " Her Hauptmann," I cried, as loud as I could, " is this your discipline, to let unarmed prisoners be shot without orders ? " The ofiicer, 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 factory hands, apparently, were of course utterly unable to make themselves understood, and did not even know in wliat they had ofiended. I therefore interpreted their expla- nation ; they had been left behind while skirmishing near Ditton, in a barn, and coming out of their hiding-phice in the midst of a party of the enemy, with their rifles in their 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 by-road. lie was a fine soldier-like man, but EEimaSCENCES OF A VOLU^'TEEE. 63 nothing could exceed the insolence of his manner, which was perhaps all the greater because it seemed not inten- tional, but to arise from a sense of immeasurable supe- riority. Between the lame freiwilliger pleading for his comrades, and the captain of the conquering army, there was, in his view, an infinite gul£ Had the two men been dogs, their fate could not have been decided more contemptuously. They were let go simply because they were not worth keeping as prisoners, and perhaps to kill any living thing without cause went against the hcmptincmn'' s sense of justice. But why speak of this insult in particular ? Had not every man who lived then his tale to tell of humiliation and degradation ? For it was 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 num- bers ; our volunteers and militia, with oflicers who did not know their work, without ammunition or equipment, or staif to superintend, starving in the midst of plenty, we had soon become a helpless mob, fighting desperately here and there, but with whom, as a manojuvering army, the disciplined invaders did just what they pleased. Happy those whose bones whitened the fields of Surrey ; they at least were spared the disgrace we lived to endure. Even you, who have never known what it is to live otherwise than on sufierance, even your cheeks burn when we talk of these days; think, then, what those endured, who, like your grandfather, had been citizens of the proudest nation on earth, which had never known disgrace or de- feat, and whose boast it nsed to be that they bote a flag on which the sun never set ! We had heard of generos- ity in war ; we found none ; the war was made by us, it was said, and we must take the consequences. London and our only arsenal captured, we were at the mercy of 64 THE BATTLE OF DORKING: our captors, and right heavily did they tread on our necks. Need I tell you the rest ? — of the ransom we had to pay, and the taxes raised to cover it, which keep us paupers to this day? — the brutal frankness that an- nounced we must give place to a new naval Power, and he made harmless for revenge ? — the victorious troops living at free quarters, the yoke they put on us made the more galling that their requisitions had a semblance of method and legality ? Better have been robbed at first hand by the soldiery themselves, than through our own magistrates made the instruments for extortion. How we lived through the degradation we daily and hourly underwent, I hardly even now understand. And what was there left to us to live for ? Stripped of our colonies ; Canada and the West Indies gone to America ; Australia forced to separate; India lost for ever after the English there had all been destroyed, vainly trying to hold the country when cut oft' from aid by their countrymen ; Gib- raltar and Malta ceded to the new naval Power; Ireland independent, and in perpetual anarchy and revolution. When I look at my country as it is now — its trade gone, its factories silent, its harbors empty, a prey to pauper- ism and decay — when I see all this, and think what Great Britain was in my youth, I ask myself whether I have really a heart or any sense of patriotism that I should have witnessed such degradation and still care to live ! France was different. There, too, they had to eat the bread of tribulation under the yoke of the conqueror; their fall was hardly more sudden or violent than ours; but war could not take away their rich soil ; they had no colonies to lose; their broad lands, which made their wealth, remained to them ; and they rose again from the blow. But our people could not be got to see how arti- ficial our prosperity was — that it all rested on foreign trade and financial credit ; that the course of trade once EEMINISCEKOES OF A VOI.UNTEKR. 65 tuniecl away from us, even for a time, it might never re- turn ; and that our credit once shaken, might never be restored. To hear men talk in tliose days, you would have thought that Providence had ordained that our Go- vernment should always borrow at three per cent., and that trade came to us because we lived in a foggy little island set in a boisterous sea. They could not be got to see that the wealth heaped up on every side was not created in the country, but in India and China, and other parts of the world ; and that it would be quite possible for the people who made money by buying and selling the natural treasures of the earth, to go and live in other places, and take their profits with them. Nor would men believe that there could ever be an end to our coal and iron, or that they would get to be so much dearer than the coal and iron of America, that it would no longer be worth while to work them, and that, therefore, we ought to insure against the loss of our artificial posi- tion as the great centre of trade, by making ourselves secure, and strong, and respected. We thought we were living in a commercial millenium, which must last for a thousand years, at least. 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 shortsighted recklessness. There, across the narrow straits, was the writing on the "wall, but we would not choose to read it. The warnings of the few were drowned in the voice of the multitude. Power was then passing away from the class which had been used to rule, and to face political dangers, and which had brought the nation with honor unsullied 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 alarm- 66 THE BATTLE OF DORKIXG. ists or as aristocrats who sought their own aggrandize- ment 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, stooped rather to pander to the selfishness of the day, and humored the popular cry which denounced those who would secure the defence of the nation by enforced arming of its manhood, as intei'fering 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 courage and foresight, might have averted the disaster, I feel that the judgment must have really been deserved. A nation too selfish to defend its liberty, could not have been fit to retain it. To you, my grand- children, who are now going to seek a new home in a more prosperous land, let not this bitter lesson be lost upon you in the country of your adoption. For me, I am 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 the time which cannot now be far off, when my old<3»bones will be laid to rest in the soil I have loved so well, and whose happiness and honor I have so long survived. •C\v i f^m i-^