Redcoats Against Napoleon

The 30th Regiment During the Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars

Carole Divall

• Publisher: Pen & Sword Military
• Year: 2009
• ISBN:
  9781781594148
• Topic: Histoire
• Subtopic: Histoire du 19ème siècle

Military histories of the struggle against the French armies of the Revolution and Napoleon often focus on the exploits of elite units and famous individuals, ignoring the essential contribution made by the ordinary soldiers the bulk of the British army. Carole Divall, in this graphic and painstakingly researched account, tells the story of one such hitherto ignored group of fighting men, the 30th Regiment of the Line. She takes their story from one of the opening clashes of the long war, the Siege of Toulon in 1793, to the decisive Battle of Waterloo in 1815. She gives us a fresh perspective on key events the men took part in Massenas retreat from the Lines of Torres Vedras, the bloody storming of Badajoz, the retreat from Burgos, the ordeal of the troops holding the centre of Wellingtons Waterloo position. The regiments history which she describes using some hitherto unpublished and vivid memoirs left by the men themselves and those they fought alongside offers a fascinating insight into the life of British soldiers two centuries ago.

Chapter 1

The Thirtieth Regiment of the Line

When Ensign Hamilton joined the 30th Regiment, he became a member of a corps with a hundred years of history, going back to 1689 when Sir George Saunderson, baronet, of Saxby, Lincolnshire, who was also Viscount Castleton in the Irish peerage, received a commission from William III to raise a regiment of foot. Saunderson’s estates were in Lincolnshire and Yorkshire, which became the source of the earliest recruits. This Lincolnshire connection was still flourishing a century later, and Hamilton began his military career recruiting there while the rest of the regiment was in the West Indies. In June 1689 the new regiment mustered at York, clothed and armed. What might the red-coated ensign have made of his forebears? Their grey coats, waistcoats and breeches, all with purple facings, and their broad-brimmed hats would have seemed curiously outlandish. He would not have envied the laced and plumed hats, the elaborate wigs, lace cravats, knots of ribbons on the shoulders of coats seamed with gold, the embroidered baldrics and silk sashes of his predecessors. Uniform, and war itself, had changed dramatically in the intervening years.

For the next hundred years the new regiment was intermittently on active service, in Europe and beyond. Particularly notable for its uncanny resemblance to the assault on Badajoz more than a century later was the attack on Namur in 1695. ‘The grenadiers marched straight up to the palisades of the covered way and discharged their grenades over them. The 23rd and Saunderson’s [that is, Castleton’s regiment] were the next to come up, the enemy’s fire from the covered way was terrific and while the batteries of the Allies galled the French in their works the French redoubts Epinoise and St Fiacre fired with fatal effect upon the English regiments as they marched up the glacis, but the assailants could not be driven back. Then the French sprang four fougasses on the glacis. The English led backwards as the earth opened and belched forth its deadly load; no man knew whether his next step might place him again on the very nest of one of those fearful messengers of death, yet even this did not deter the British troops from again advancing.’¹ The attack was ultimately successful and Namur was carried, but it was a baptism of blood and fire for the young regiment.

Disbanded in 1698, the regiment was then reformed in 1702 to serve as marines. There were plenty of old faces, but they wore a new uniform, with yellow facings, earning themselves the nickname ‘yellowbellies’, a name still given to Lincolnshire people. Only later did the regiment acquire its more famous title, ‘The Old Three Tens’. After eight years, however, and service across the globe from the West Indies to Spain, they were once more disbanded when the Peace of Utrecht brought the War of the Spanish Succession to an end; a disbandment which brought about the only mutiny in the regiment’s history when the men found themselves seriously in arrears of pay.

The Jacobite resurgence of 1715 saw an urgent need for more troops and the regiment was re-founded for the second time, taking its position as the 30th in the line. As such it continued until 1881. Military memories are long and tenacious, however; even during the second Boer War a sergeant of the first battalion, the East Lancashire Regiment, into which the 30th had been transformed, wrote: ‘We were soldiers, fit successors of the men who, in the Peninsula, at Waterloo, and in the Crimea, had helped to make, and uphold, the proud record of the old XXXth.’²

Once again there was active service, in the Mediterranean, in France, and eventually in the American colonies, but there were also extended periods in Ireland. The army was not popular among civilians unless it was fighting and winning victories abroad, when it was lauded from a distance and its commanders, like the Marquis of Granby or General Wolfe, became national heroes. At home it was regarded as licentious, unruly and expensive, and its numbers were quickly reduced, while as many regiments as that country could reasonably sustain were sent to Ireland where their presence supported the Protestant Ascendancy.

There were other activities which were typical of the period: serving for eight years in Gibraltar; recruiting, mainly in the Eastern Counties and Scotland; even some road-making in Scotland. In 1775, the composition of NCOs and other ranks was 266 English, ninety-eight Scottish, twelve Irish and two foreign. The influx of Irish Catholics had just started as the long-standing embargo on Irish recruits was lifted, but was yet to become a torrent. One other feature of the period was the acquisition of a light company. In 1772, when the regiment was reviewed at Ferrybridge, the light company skirmished in front of the other companies, a novel development of infantry drill.

The War of American Independence broke out in 1775, but the 30th were not involved until 1781. In September of that year they saw action at the battle of Entaw, which produced the heaviest casualties of the war. Both sides claimed victory, but the British held the field. The war against the colonists was stuttering into defeat, however, and in 1782 the regiment was sent first to the Leeward Islands, and then to Jamaica, which was under French attack. Finally, in 1784, it was posted to Dominica. It had also been designated the Cambridgeshire Regiment in a move which gave all the regiments of the line county appellations, although the titles were rarely used outside official correspondence. Nevertheless, the Eastern Counties remained a prime source of recruits until well into the next century.

At this point an impression of the regiment can be gained from the jaundiced recollections of a private soldier, who identifies himself as James Aytoun. He joined the 30th in 1788, and served with them certainly until 1807, since there are references to India in his memoirs. In his opinion the regiment was commanded by officers who were unfit for the purpose. The adjutant was often the only officer present at exercise, while the captain of the light company, Satterthwaite, was a ‘paper’ officer whom Aytoun never saw. His recollections constitute a list of beatings and floggings, stories of officers indifferent to the welfare of their men, and examples of exploitation. It is no wonder, therefore, that he failed to understand the anti-slavery movement in Europe. ‘The negroes have more liberty than the soldiers. The men, as often as may be convenient, trot six or seven miles to a plantation to see a favourite black wench or to dance … A soldier is liable to be flogged if more than a mile from barracks, camp or quarters and if out of barracks after tattoo they are liable to be tried by a court martial and punished.’³ Slaves were too valuable to be ill-treated: soldiers were dispensable. Nevertheless, even Aytoun conceded that matters improved after the outbreak of the French Revolution. New regulations of 1792 and 1797 meant that men were no longer beaten randomly with rattan canes. Instead, all soldiers had to be tried by a court martial, with sworn evidence both for and against. Furthermore, humane officers recognised that contented soldiers were more effective soldiers.

The regiment returned to Europe in 1791, arriving at Portsmouth in March to find Europe on a knife-edge. Things could never be the same after the storming of the Bastille in 1789, and two years later it was obvious that the increasingly extreme position adopted by the revolutionaries in France would prove a threat to all those states which hoped to preserve the status quo. With Europe poised for war, the British anticipated extensive naval activity. In 1793 the 30th was broken up and distributed by company through the fleet to serve yet again as marines. Two companies were on HMS Swiftsure and HMS St Albans, and a detachment was sent to HMS Bellona. All three ships, and others on which men of the 30th subsequently served, were part of the Channel fleet. A further four companies served with Hood’s fleet in the Mediterranean where, according to Aytoun, they were ‘joined by the Spanish fleet and I believe we were in all more than forty ships of the line, besides frigates, sloops and tenders. We cruised on the coasts of Genoa and France till August 28 and then stood in to a landing place a considerable distance from Toulon. We were on boats embarked on the Robust at the time commanded by Commodore Elfinstone [sic] and the Robust pushed into the shore as the pilot advised. We were landed in boats without interruption. We marched through vineyards and the grapes were ripe and French girls brought us, as we passed along, bunches of fine black grapes, which was new to British soldiers.’⁴

Aytoun was among the first British soldiers to be landed in the south of France, in a body of 1,500 marines and soldiers who had been acting as marines. Their purpose was to give support to the Royalists in Toulon who had risen against the revolutionary government in Paris and now depended upon British help to keep them safe from reprisals. The port, which was vital to the French Mediterranean fleet as a supply depot, had already been under Anglo-Spanish blockade before the rebellion broke out. On 27 August the British ships were invited into the harbour. After a day’s hesitation, Admiral Lord Hood went one step further and landed the 1,500 marines, although he had no long-term strategy. Shortly afterwards the Spanish ships joined the British.

The Republican reaction was immediate; a force of 12,000 men under General Carteaux, later augmented by 5,000 men from Italy under General Lapoype, was sent to deal with the situation. Meanwhile, their opponents were also gaining in strength, eventually rising to 15,000 men. This all took time, however, and the first engagement, when a French force was defeated at Ollioules by an Anglo-Spanish detachment, involved only 500 invaders against about 750 Republicans. It was, perhaps, a lucky success; ill-disciplined troops caught in a narrow defile by experienced regulars.

Overall, the allied situation was not particularly secure. Their line of defence extended for eight miles around Toulon, describing a U-shape which had as its three crucial points Fort la Malgue, Mount Faron and Fort Malbousquet. From this defensive position, with resources thinly stretched, it was impossible to take offensive action against the gathering strength of the Republicans. Nevertheless, the Anglo-Spanish forces had guns and ammunition, and ships in support, so that the weakness of their situation was not immediately apparent.

After the fall of Marseilles, which had also risen against the Republicans, the defence of Toulon became increasingly perilous, particularly when a rising star of the French military, Captain Napoleon Bonaparte (still known as Napoleone Buonaparte), arrived on 16 September to take command of the artillery bombardment. At the same time, Hood depleted his forces by sending some of them to Corsica. Fortunately, Lord Mulgrave had reached Toulon on 6 September and under his command the expedition acquired greater military coherence, even though Mulgrave was primarily a politician. One significant step was the organisation of the British forces into two battalions, one of which was commanded by Captain Brereton of the 30th.

The Siege of Toulon, 1793

Initially, on the French side, there was a dispute about strategy. Napoleon wanted to focus on Pointe l’Eguilette, a position which would make the ships in the harbour vulnerable to French guns. General Carteaux, however, preferred a land blockade, hoping to pick off the earth forts which the allies had built and then attack the main, Vaubanesque defences of the town. As overall commander, his view prevailed, although Napoleon had the ear of the representants du people, Augustin Robespierre and Christophe Saliceti.

The initial French bombardment, across several days, concentrated on the ships in the inner harbour, inflicting damage and casualties. Lord Hood decided, therefore, to occupy the heights of Grasse, on the south side of the harbour. Sir Thomas Graham, serving as a volunteer and Lord Mulgrave’s aide-de-camp, sent the following account of what happened on 21 September to his brother-in-law, Lord Cathcart: ‘Both Admiral Gravina and Lord Mulgrave went, and I accompanied them; the detachment consisted of 150 British and 350 Spaniards. We embarked at midnight and landed near Fort Balaguay, and gained the wooded heights without seeing any enemy. The Spaniards were all against occupying the westernmost and most commanding point, as being too distant to receive any support from the ships, and Lord M. was obliged to yield, and to return to the easternmost point of the hill. The post was established there about daybreak, and we returned to breakfast on board the Victory [Hood’s flagship].

‘In the afternoon, they [the Anglo-Spanish] were attacked by 600 men, who got near them under cover of the wood, but were repulsed with some loss. Some of the Spaniards behaved very well, others ill – ours all well; we had an officer of the 25th and eight men wounded. In the night the Spanish Commandant wanted to abandon the post, but our officer (Captain Brereton of the 30th) refused to go, and sent to Lord Hood, who complained to Langara [second-in-command of the Spanish forces], and another commandant was immediately sent.’⁵

Crucial to both sides were the hills beyond Toulon, principally Mount Faron and Le Hauteur de Grace, which were high and well fortified. They were held by the defenders until September, despite a series of Republican attacks. On 30 September, however, the enemy set up batteries above Mount Faron. In response Lord Mulgrave tried to drive the French from their redoubt. The night was foggy, which undoubtedly helped the allies as they began their attack at 2.00 a.m. Graham, in another letter to his brother-in-law, provided a detailed account of what happened. Having reminded Cathcart of the difficulty of bringing forces up in column under heavy fire, he then described the action. ‘The British and Piedmontese were quite mixed at this period, and the rear of the columns from the higher ground still kept on firing. During this check, the Neapolitan grenadiers advanced … and began to draw off the attention of the left of the enemy’s line, to which the advance guard had fallen back. At the critical moment our people charged from behind the rocks, and ran on without firing. The enemy began to give way, and very soon took to their heels, and, being closely pursued, never attempted to rally; but as it was up hill and one continued bed of angular stones, it was impossible for any of our troops, faint with hunger, thirst, and fatigue, to get up close with them. The Neapolitan grenadiers and the head of our columns of British and Piedmontese entered the redoubt at the same moment, where only three or four hundred men attempted to resist. The rest led by the lunette towards La Vallette, or tried to hide themselves among the perpendicular rocks on the north side of the redoubt, from whence many of them fell or were tumbled down by the foreigners, especially the Spaniards, who had no notion of giving quarter, as their great object seemed to be to get possession of the spoils of the dead, for which every consideration of humanity was laid aside; the conduct of the British was strikingly different. From the redoubt, the lunette, and rocks near both, a heavy fire was kept up on the enemy, who could not get very fast away as the descent was so rapid, and a party from Fort Faron went much lower down the hill, and pursued them closely, till brought up by the fire of some guns they had on the side of Coudon. The success of this attack was no doubt much owing to Elphinstone’s attack, originally intended as a diversion only; but when he heard the firing become general in all the points to his left, he left only 30 men in the fort, and went out with 460; of these the ...

Table of contents

• Front Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contents
• List of Maps
• List of Illustrations
• Preface
• Acknowledgements
• Foreword by Lieutenant Colonel John Downham
• 1 The Thirtieth Regiment of the Line
• 2 Battle Honours – ‘Egypt’
• 3 A Second Battalion
• 4 Active Service
• 5 Over the Hills
• 6 The Long Road to Badajoz
• 7 ‘No nation ever sent forth braver troops …’
• 8 Stalemate
• 9 40,000 Men Defeated in 40 Minutes
• 10 An Unacknowledged Victory
• 11 Out of the War
• 12 Flanders
• 13 The Road to Waterloo
• 14 Into the Storm
• 15 To the Last Man
• 16 Army of Occupation
• 17 Ireland Again
• 18 Meanwhile, in India
• Notes
• Select Bibliography