Dress soon after 7, and at 8 all the company were assembled – General N. [Governor George Nugent] and I then went down to the Great Hall, at the door of which all the staff were paraded, and we marched up to the sophas, at the upper end, to the tune of ‘God Save the King’.
The formal introductions preceded the commencement of dancing. After a midnight supper, Maria admits that she ‘forgot all dignity’ and joined in a Scottish reel.
During daylight hours, officers frequently took the opportunity to explore. George Pinckard fills a considerable portion of his three volumes of recollections with accounts of perambulations around Barbados and the South American mainland. This activity ranged from a local hike – he and a medical colleague walked for several hours around Bridgetown in the early morning – to more ambitious ‘Marooning excursions’, which involved longer trips on horseback accompanied by slave guides and ample provisions. These journeys, he informs us, were pursued ‘in the Marooning spirit of making a home wherever we might require it, or wherever we might find it, availing ourselves of whatever dwelling might present itself in our path’. Intrepid explorers, the Reverend Cooper Willyams among them, often received lavish hospitality from the plantation owners.
Participating in or watching various sports were other common pastimes. Hunting was limited by the lack of hounds and foxes, but shooting was very popular. Phipps Howard describes a shooting party near St Marc in 1796 where he and his fellow sportsmen, a small group of senior officers, ‘amused ourselves for an hour or two, & shot a Number of Birds of the Snipe Species which are very abundant in this island…’ The tropical wildlife was fair game, George Pinckard returning from a day spent shooting and fishing ‘having shot two pelicans and a number of other birds’. As proof of their exploits, some officers got their kills stuffed and sent home.
Horse racing had been introduced to the islands, Jonathan Leach describing a circular course near St John’s on Antigua. Physical pursuits included running races and swimming, but not all the participants took into account the vagaries of the climate and natural history. Maria Nugent dismissed the competitors in a race as ‘silly boys of the 85th, who will, no doubt, suffer severely for their folly’. They were unlikely to be as unfortunate as one of Pinckard’s hospital assistants, who went for a swim and was carried off by an alligator.
Officers’ reading material included letters, journals and newspapers sent from Britain, all voraciously consumed to dull the homesickness felt by many. News of battles in Europe arrived with the papers carried by vessels arriving at the islands. Bookshops were rare in the West Indies, Edward Pakenham commenting that ‘it might be strongly recommended to all Johny Newcombes to this country, to bring out a less stock of Quack medicine and a few more Books’. Works eagerly perused included Edward’s West Indies, a comprehensive history of the region in three volumes.
Fortescue bemoans the lack of memoirs from the West Indies in the Revolutionary and Napoleonic periods and there are certainly far fewer existing eyewitness accounts than from the Peninsula or the Waterloo campaign. However, as the bibliography of primary sources in this work proves, there are more than might be thought, particularly if the researcher is prepared to delve into the archives. Men did survive the dreaded West Indies and write their memoirs and, even among those who perished, letters and journals have survived. Most were not attempting to immortalise their story but were content to maintain a tenuous link with loved ones and friends at home. Lieutenant Edward Teasdale of the 54th, one more victim of yellow fever, had earlier corresponded with his mother in 1807, promising to write to her from Kingston.
…there is no reason why you should not, in the meanwhile, write to me for you may depend upon it, I shall get it safe in Jamaica. And when you write, have the goodness to tell me a little more of the family – my poor cousins may be dead for all I know.
We have less of a written record from the ranks where most were illiterate. Johnston Abercromby, on Guadeloupe in 1794, apologises to his wife for his ‘imperfect account’ of the campaign ‘as I have not time to think of any more at present’. He was, he tells her, determined to keep a journal. The joy of his correspondence is palpable.
I cannot express the gratitude I owe to my god that after all the dangers and fatigues I have gone through I am well and able to write once more to my All on Earth.10
Chapter 10
Muzzle to Muzzle: In Action
The central events of the West Indian campaigns have been related. In this chapter we will consider particular aspects of the fighting and also more fully address the human element of the conflict. It is not easy, or perhaps advisable, to glibly define the nature of a war stretching over 22 years and fought in a region as diverse and fragmented as the Caribbean. However, the limiting factors and vital stages of a ‘typical’ West Indian campaign can be tentatively described.
Most expeditions commenced with what the military commanders judged to be an inadequate force. This, as we have seen, was the inevitable consequence of political inconsistency and the demand for manpower elsewhere, especially in Europe. Both the timing and direction of campaigning was influenced by the weather. Fighting was best limited to the healthier winter months and the prevailing trade winds meant that this proceeded from east to west (windward to leeward), hence the strategic importance of the Windward Islands. The normal strategy for an assault on an island was to make multiple simultaneous landings, the amphibious operations requiring sophisticated cooperation between army and navy. Once ashore, there was usually a march to be made, sometimes over a significant distance. Any enemy outposts would have to be driven in prior to the storming of the enemy’s main stronghold atop a dominant hill. A more substantial fortress might lead to a formal siege. Impenetrable mountains and jungle and the weakening effects of disease often proved greater obstacles than manmade defences. After the targeted strong-point was captured, the campaign had perhaps only just started, there remaining the difficult business of subjugating the rest of the island and its insurrectionary elements.
Officers were keen to stress to ministers and others at home that this was a type of warfare entirely different to that of the European theatre. Abercromby informed a colleague that it was ‘most uninteresting’ before elaborating.
…you see perhaps one or two days in the Campaign the Troops you command; the moment you begin to act you are obliged to parcel out your little army in small detachments, and the instant the Service is over they go on shipboard to return to their respective garrisons. The real service of a campaign here might be comprised in the operation of a fortnight in Europe.
Formal operations all too often evolved into agonising struggles where, in the words of an eighteenth-century colonial governor, the main challenge was not to beat the enemy but to see him. In Saint Domingue, Thomas Phipps Howard complained that he faced adversaries who were unacquainted with any ‘regular System of Tactics’; it was a ‘war of Ambuscades’. This protracted guerrilla war was both hard and bewildering for officers and men trained in the manoeuvres of the European battlefield. On St Lucia, John Moore admitted that he had endured more fatigue in five weeks than most officers would suffer in five campaigns. The wearisome nature of West Indian warfare for the rank and file is best encapsulated in a letter written by Private Johnston Abercromby to his wife from Guadeloupe in 1794.
Marched 7 miles up hill and lay in a field all night. The 19th we marched up another hill which was five miles high, the like of which I never beheld for we was forced to climb up by bushes and in danger of falling every minute and still raining, as soon as we gained the hill each man got an extraordinary share of grog and then stormed a small battery of 5 guns, the French all running away on seeing us coming. The 20th marched up another hill…1
The ordinary soldier could be forgiven for not distinguishing one hill from another. Senior commanders had varying levels of intelligence of the islands they were attacking. In 1794, Grey had copious information on the defences of Martinique thanks to contacts with émi
gré Frenchmen on Barbados. He knew which potential landing beaches were defended and those that were vulnerable. In stark contrast, Ralph Abercromby had to rely on snippets of information from local smugglers to plan his assault on Puerto Rico three years later. Deserters were another possible source of intelligence and there were undoubtedly spy networks in place for much of the period. British agents operated in the shadows of Saint Domingue, making contacts with sympathetic elements. Republicans were equally active in espionage, Victor Hugues making reference to a spy in his service who received 1,320 livres per month for information relating to British operations. Lieutenant Henry Clinton felt the need to write his letters to his brother in England in 1796 in code (see illustration 16).
Moving around the islands’ interiors and maintaining good communications were constant challenges. Accurate maps were in short supply. In July 1795, Balcarres was forced to write to Sir Adam Williamson asking for a large map of Jamaica, ‘…if you can lay your hands on it, I need not say how very useful it may eventually be to us’. Under the circumstances, there was much reliance on local guides. Transmitting information over any significant distance was also difficult. John Moore vents his frustration against the postal arrangements on and around St Lucia. ‘The vessel I had dispatched with my letter to Sir Ralph returned without finding him. This perplexed me much.’ Later, the senior commander’s reply failed to reach Moore. Dispatches sent home via the Post Office packets risked capture by enemy privateers. Signal stations were an alternative technology in place on some of the islands. Their primary role was to give early warning of infringements by the enemy and they variously used coloured flags, semaphore and alarm guns.2
Disembarking troops onto the beaches of an enemy-held island was commonly the first decisive step in an offensive campaign. We have the directives of the general orders to elucidate what was expected. Beckwith’s instructions for the landing on Martinique in 1809 are typical.
Upon a signal being made for the troops to land, the men will get into the boats as expeditiously as possible, but without disorder. They are to sit down in the boats, and in rowing on shore perfect silence is to be preserved. The Troops are not to load, until they are formed on the beach, nor are Bayonets to be fixed till that time, unless the landing be disputed. The formation to be effected as soon as possible. The men will fall in, in line opposite to where they disembark. They are to land in the lightest marching order…
The flat boats would have been assembled at a pre-determined place and the soldiers entering them carried a few days’ provisions and other necessities such as blankets, camp kettles, water kegs, canteens and hatchets.
Most landings were not contested and this was just as well as it was difficult to coordinate the fleet carrying the troops and, as a result, they too often came ashore in a piecemeal or haphazard fashion. Examples include the landings on Guadeloupe in 1794, Demerara in 1796 and Trinidad in 1797. As these expeditions were under the military command of men such as Grey and Abercromby and experienced naval officers, we may assume that the difficulties were considerable. Maitland’s account of the landing on the Saints underlines the challenges posed by the weather, tides and topography.
The disembarkation was fixed to be at six o’clock in the morning of the 14th [April 1809], but a bad night separated our ships. By ten they were collected. Soon after the Acasta led in, through a very narrow channel, which was buoyed on either side; the Gloire, Narcissus, and Circe followed, the Intrepid about an hour after, but the Dolphin not until next day. His Majesty’s Ships anchored opposite to the little bay Bois Joly. The landing was meant to have been at the next to the eastward, called Ance Vanovre. As much time, it was then seen would be lost by persevering to go to Ance Vanovre, because the boats would have had a long row against wind and current, we landed at Ance Bois Joly, a secure landing, though a stony beach, protected by the fire of the frigates.
The first men ashore, often light infantry, were normally instructed to occupy any local strong-points, high ground or houses, thereby covering the landing of the remainder of the force.3
The next stage in the archetypal island campaign was a march. In Europe, 15 miles was judged a good daily distance in action. During the Peninsular War, troops often set out an hour or two before daylight and halted for 20 minutes every three or four miles. These efforts were liable to be wearisome and destructive in any part of the world, but there is no doubt that punishing marches through almost impenetrable terrain and in stifling heat were a particular feature of the West Indian campaigns. Examples include Dundas’s 20-mile transit to La Calebasse on Martinique in 1794, Leighton’s move to Mount Young on St Vincent in 1795, Maitland’s march across the mountains in Saint Domingue in 1795 and Hughes’s foray through the Surinam jungle in 1804. These marches brought significant strategic gains, the enemy surprised and the campaign potentially shortened. There was, however, a cost. It was estimated that three-quarters of European soldiers arriving in the region would succumb under such duress.
When men had to traverse jungle paths they were given cutlasses to hack their way through. Marching on roads was easier, but they were often of execrable quality. Major General Hugh Carmichael reported that there were only two practicable roads for the army on Guadeloupe, the ‘Grand Road’ leading along the coast and a difficult track over the heights of Cap Terre. Other islands and colonies were no better served. In Saint Domingue, the tracks through dense forest were virtually impassable, cut by streams flowing from the mountains, overgrown and blocked by fallen trees. According to Aytoun, the roads of Dominica were suitable only for pedestrians as they were intersected by ‘bridges’ made of single tree trunks laid across deep valleys. John Moore, bogged down in a struggle to exert control on St Lucia, complained that a march of three miles took as many hours He employed workmen to clear the roads. Difficult terrain and crude roads required compromises. General orders issued in January 1809 for the Martinique campaign specified that, due to the narrowness of the roads, the troops were to form two deep and march in files. Captain William Stewart confirms that the island’s immense woods necessitated ‘Indian-file marching for miles together’. In wet conditions soldiers commonly sank to their knees in thick mud and lost their shoes.
The tropical heat was the greatest enemy of the marching soldier. Thomas Phipps Howard saw men and animals toil and die in Saint Domingue.
Owing to the Troops leaving the Mole at such an ill-judged hour they suffered terribly by their March; the Sun being so extremely hot & not a drop of Water to be met with on the Road. None but those who have been obliged to March in this Country can have an idea of the Extremities to which the Army was reduced. So great was it that before they halted, which was about 3 o Clock in the Afternoon, no less than between 50 & 60 men had absolutely perished with thirst & were lying dead along the Road. The Horses employed in dragging the Artillery & Commissaries stores, not having been properly broke to the Service, & the Roads being so extremely bad, the greatest part was obliged to be left behind which greatly added to the Distress of the Troops.
Night marches were an obvious expedient, but these had their own problems. William Dyott declared that he was against this strategy, having endured a night march on Grenada where, even though there was a tolerably good road, it took nearly 10 hours to journey eight miles with considerable confusion. In Saint Domingue, a regiment of hussars which chose to travel mainly at night took 77 hours to cover the 60 miles between St Marc and Port au Prince.4
The first contact with the enemy might be a clash of patrols or a confrontation with advanced posts. The army’s commanders stressed the need for vigilance, general orders issued in 1794 from Barbados reminding officers that the safety of the army relied on the alertness of outposts; ‘It is the greatest disgrace that can possibly befall an officer; and so much so in the General’s opinion, that any officer or non-commissioned officer who shall suffer himself to be surprised, must not expect to be forgiven’. Grey later returned to the subject, exhorting advanced parties
to remain alert and ‘in case of an insult, to meet it coolly, not risking themselves in darting forward…’ Abercromby used similar language in 1796, informing his men that it was ‘not wise to despise their enemy’ and that they must guard against complacency whilst on outpost duty.
Patrolling and reconnoitring duties were generally undertaken by light cavalry units. Howard describes such actions in Saint Domingue, on one occasion making an eight-hour round trip to within a quarter of a mile of an enemy camp and later leading 40 cavalrymen in an information-gathering mission on the banks of the Artibonite. The greater mobility of cavalry was well suited to these tasks but its offensive role in the West Indian campaigns was limited to occasional shock tactics against demoralised or distracted opponents. Howard describes an attack on pillaging brigands.
…the Cavalrie, having bridled took a short turn round the back of the Camp while the Brigands were employed in tearing-up the Tents [and] fell upon them Sword in Hand before they had time to stand to their Arms. Instantly the deroute became general…
One hundred and eighty enemy were killed. In a later incident near St Marc, the brigands, terrified by the sudden appearance of the hussars, were ‘cut down like so many sheep’. This potential shock role of the cavalry arm was appreciated by Balcarres who requested two regiments of light dragoons to be sent to Jamaica to ‘awe the Maroons and the Negroes’.
Death Before Glory Page 27
