Warrior [19] British Redcoat 1740-93 Read online

  French infantry equipment of the early 18th century. Note the small priming flask. Use of such flasks was included in Bland’s drill, but in practice probably abandoned by the 1740s. [Author’s collection]

  How much was actually stopped from the soldier’s subsistence in order to pay for these rations varied according to circumstances, but an effort was always made to ensure that at least some hard cash was delivered over to him. Normally this would be paid in local currency; in July 1759, troops in the camp at Lake George in Upper New York were informed: ‘The commanding officers of Regiments having been assembled to take into consideration the most convenient method of paying the troops as also weekly stoppages to be made to enable the Captains to provide a necessary supply of shirts shoes & etc. for their Compy. The Genl. directs the payment to be made in the following manner – a Sergt. six shillings, a Corpl. four shillings, Drummer four shillings, Private Soldiers three shillings per week New York Currency. Eight shillings that currancy being equal to a dollar at 4s & 8d sterling.’

  Reconstruction: British infantry equipment c.1745.

  Having arranged for the soldier to receive at least a modicum of cash for his own use, care was also taken to regulate the prices which sutlers could charge for food and drink. The following summer (1760), bakers were forbidden to take more than one penny [sterling] for baking 7lb flour into a 91b loaf, and if payment in kind had to be made, the bakers were not to exchange 71b bread for 7lb flour, since it was considered ‘a shameful deduction from the portion allowed a soldier and too exorbitant a profit for the baker’. Shameful or not, it was evidently common practice, and James Aytoun mentions that on Dominica he and his comrades were regularly issued with 11b bread each day in place of the regulation 11b flour.

  Comparatively generous quantities of alcohol were provided on active service, or were at the very least subsidised. Tea and coffee had yet to gain wide acceptance and water often turned out to be contaminated. Once again stoppages could be made for drinks, although regiments serving in North America in the 1760s were provided with the utensils and ingredients to brew their own spruce-beer.

  There was a tendency for soldiers to dispose of what remained of their subsistence – and any other cash they had – on strong drink. The practice of distributing subsistence money on a daily basis where possible curbed any temptation to spend a whole week’s subsistence in one drunken night.

  Commentators both ancient and modern have tended to deplore this predilection for strong drink. While stationed at Dover Castle in 1754, Colonel James Wolfe complained: ‘It has been observed that some soldiers go out of these barracks with a full resolution to get drunk, and have even the impudence to declare their intentions.’

  LIVING CONDITIONS

  Dover Castle was in fact one of the very few barracks maintained in England during the greater part of the 18th century. At first, permanent barracks were only established where there was considered to be a pressing need to maintain a concentration of troops; for the most part they were created in existing fortresses.

  Barrack life

  The first purpose-built barracks in England were erected at Berwick in 1721. Others were later built at Chatham, Hilsea (Portsmouth), Tynemouth, Plymouth and other locations considered worth defending. Similarly, in Scotland barrack accommodation was initially provided only in the castles at Edinburgh and Stirling. However, in the aftermath of the Jacobite Rising of 1715, a number of small barracks and police posts were erected in the Highlands, and after the last rising of 1745, a large barracks which could accommodate two battalions at once was erected at Fort George Ardersier. Ireland had large barracks at Dublin, Limerick, Kinsale, Cork, Waterford and Galway. In addition, there were a large number of smaller security posts, which often housed no more than a single company, chiefly in Ireland and Scotland.

  Highland piper c.1743. Two pipers were normally authorised for the grenadier companies of Highland regiments in place of fifers. Unauthorised ones (including the regimental-pipe-major) also existed. [Author’s collection]

  Useful as these barracks were, they did not provide adequate accommodation for the greater part of the army. Indeed it has been estimated that by 1792 proper barrack accommodation existed for only 20,000 men, and that included the ordnance troops and invalids permanently stationed in the various forts. Consequently, most battalions serving in England, and to a lesser extent in Scotland and Ireland, had to be dispersed, often quite widely, among the civilian population in billets. Almost invariably they were accommodated in public houses or, as the annual Mutiny Acts defined them, ‘inns, livery stables, alehouses, victualling houses, and all houses selling brandy, strong waters, cyder, or metheglin by retail to be drunk on the premises’.

  Broadly speaking, the soldier could find himself in a purpose-built barracks or adapted mediaeval castle while serving in Scotland or England, but was more likely to be accommodated piecemeal in the loft or some other dingy corner of an inn. In Ireland his chances of living in a proper barracks were greater, but it was only really in one of the permanent foreign stations such as Gibraltar or Jamaica that he could be assured of such accommodation.

  Reconstruction. Corporals were distinguished at this period by a loop of white cord, representing the extra skein of slow-match issued to corporals during the 17th century.

  Neither barracks nor billets had anything much to commend them, for overcrowding was rife in both – even at Fort George Ardersier, which was very much a model establishment, eight men might end up sleeping two to a bed in each small barrack room. Complaints about the condition of the accommodation were also common, but for many soldiers it was a real improvement on the frequently damp and insanitary hovels in which their civilian counterparts lived.

  Married men

  Soldiers were routinely discouraged from marrying but many did so, and the regulations allowed six wives per company. To be more precise, six wives and their children per company could be carried on the ration rolls and were provided with accommodation in return for hospital or other work. It is not at all clear how soldiers’ wives were taken on to the strength, but it may be no coincidence that each company also had six NCOs – three sergeants and three corporals. There is no doubt that the ordinary rank and file did marry, or at least contract less formal alliances, but their position was naturally much more precarious. Regimental orderly books routinely refer to the presence of camp followers, and frequently express frustration over the difficulties of controlling them. At least official wives could be brought into line with the threat of the withdrawal of their rations and official accommodation.

  Unofficial accommodation also existed. A contemporary sketch of Bernera Barracks in the West Highlands shows the existence of a rudimentary, but no doubt quite typical, ‘married patch’ comprising about a dozen ‘Hutts for the Soldiers’ Wives and Families’. It would be interesting to know when this sketch was made, for although the barracks was in theory capable of accommodating four companies, in practice it seems to have been occupied by only one at any one time, and in the summer of 1746 there were only ten men there, detached from the garrison at Fort William.

  The only real check upon the number of women attached to an infantry battalion was the allocation of space and rations on the transports taking it to or from a foreign station. Then, and only then, could the six wives to a company rule be effectively enforced. When 1/Royals sailed for Jamaica in January 1790, for example, they embarked 349 effectives in ten companies, plus 62 women and 70 children.

  It was recognised that soldiers were more likely to marry when spending long periods in garrison, and that the commonest reason for a soldier volunteering to remain in, say, Upper Canada – either as a settler or by volunteering into another corps – was that he had a wife who could not be accommodated on the transport taking the battalion home.

  ‘Present… fire’. Note how the soldier is taught to lean into his shot; contrast this with the much stiffer posture in the 1764 manual exercise. [Author’s collection]
r />   The ‘Boston Massacre’ was the army’s best-publicised failure in crowd control – a common enough role in England, but one which the American colonists were unused to and therefore resented.

  CAREER

  With our recruit now paid, fed, clothed and given some kind of a roof over his head, we can examine the likely course of his career. Although he started off by enlisting in a particular regiment, there was no guarantee that he would remain with it for very long; there was every chance that by the time he was discharged he would have passed through a number of different units. James Aytoun originally enlisted in the 58th Foot, in January 1786, but in August of the following year he volunteered to transfer into the 9th Foot, which was under orders for service in the West Indies. No sooner had he arrived in Barbados, in April 1788, than he was drafted straight into the 30th Foot. The drafting of men from one unit to another was commonplace in the 18th century. It was most common when a unit – particularly one from the weak Irish establishment – was ordered overseas and had to be brought up to its authorised strength in a hurry. Often the only practical way in which to accomplish this was to strip men from other units. Conversely when an understrength unit was ordered home to recruit, its existing rank and file would first be drafted into units remaining in theatre.

  Leather flap covering belly-box – bearing an unusual George II cypher. [Author’s collection]

  New regiments were also cause for drafting. At the outset, wherever possible, men were drafted into the unit from older corps in order to form a disciplined cadre around which the new regiment could be formed. But no sooner would it be brought up to strength than the newly trained recruits would be drafted to fill out other, longer-established, regiments. Finally, if a regiment was disbanded at the end of the war which had called it into existence, its remaining personnel, although entitled to their discharge on the spot, would normally find themselves offered fresh bounties to re-enlist in regiments expected to survive.

  Whichever regiment he joined or at least ended up in, our recruit first had to undergo basic training. He had to learn how to carry himself, to march in step, and all the other little things that would enable him to fit into military life. Ideally, training would take place at one of the big depots such as Chatham or Kinsale, but in practice the high turnover of recruits and wide dispersion of quarters usually meant that it would not happen until he joined his company. The amount of training he actually received before finding himself on the battlefield would vary, but it seems to have been generally agreed that it took about a year to turn a recruit into an efficient soldier.

  Once he was properly trained, a soldier might remain with one of the eight battalion companies or be posted to a flank company. Prior to 1771, each infantry battalion had a grenadier company. In 1771, a light infantry company was added. Traditionally, grenadiers were drawn from the tallest and strongest men in the battalion, but this practice seems to have been the case only when a regiment was formed from scratch. In well-established corps, it was more usual to fill the ranks of the grenadier company with the steadier and more mature men – those who could be depended upon in a crisis, irrespective of their height. Similarly, the light company, although requiring nimble, active men, clearly also required good soldiers with stamina and more intelligence than might have been expected from the raw farm boys newly swept up by recruiters. Indeed, there are indications that, in some units at least, a good soldier would expect to be posted first to the light company and then, as his breath failed him, on to the grenadiers.

  Reconstruction: Goatskin knapsack c.1760 onwards.

  Reconstruction: Reverse side of knapsack showing arrangement of straps. The shoulder straps are anchored top and bottom so that all adjustment is by means of the breast strap.

  Promotion

  Although a posting to either a grenadier or a light company meant an increase in status – and probably a corresponding increase in net subsistence money with which he might be entitledx–the first upward step by way of promotion was to the rank of corporal. This brought a modest increase in pay and probably a rather greater increase in responsibility (although he would still shoulder a firelock and stand in the ranks).

  Short land pattern firelock: lock detail – flash pan open. [Author’s collection]

  After that, if he was fit for it, he could be promoted to sergeant. This was a far more responsible post. Apart from anything else, it required, in practice, the ability to read and write. Normally this was the pinnacle of a recruit’s career (sergeant-major and quartermaster-sergeant were appointments at this period rather than ranks). However, for a fortunate few it was possible to go further and be commissioned – to become an officer.

  Despite the domination of the purchase system, promotion of rankers to a commissioned rank was surprisingly common in the 18th-century British army – perhaps more so than in the 19th century, when a distinct officer caste began to emerge.

  Rising from the ranks

  Promoted rankers generally fell into one of three categories: the old and steady, the exceptionally brave, and the volunteers. The first category was perhaps the largest, and included commissioned quartermasters; by the end of the 18th century, it was a rank invariably drawn from experienced quartermaster-sergeants. Particularly able sergeants were also promoted to fill company vacancies. This happened chiefly in newly raised regiments where their experience and talents were at a premium, although inspection returns reveal that most regiments usually had at least one former ranker amongst their subalterns. Obviously such experience was not gained overnight, and the four sergeants commissioned into the newly raised 64th Foot in 1756 had between 12 and 22 years’ service in the ranks behind them. These comparatively old officers often found it difficult to rise much further, although it was not unknown: George Edington was promoted to sergeant in 1/Royals on 30 December 1790 and was commissioned just three and a half years later. By 6 December 1798 he was a captain.

  Promotion of the exceptionally brave was much more haphazard. Where a man’s character or ability was not considered equal to his bravery, he might be commissioned into an invalid company or some other obscure billet, rather than his own corps. In such a case, promotion was obviously a dead end, although the eventual prospect of the half-pay this offered was not lightly disregarded. For others, however, a promotion of this nature could once again be a stepping stone to better things. Sergeant Terry Molloy, described by General Sir John Cope in 1745 as ‘a verie good sergeant’, received a lieutenant’s commission after he and a dozen men successfully defended Ruthven Barracks against three hundred Jacobite rebels. Ten years later, further promotion came after he successfully fought his way out of Braddock’s disaster on the Monongahela river.

  Short land pattern firelock: displaying the characteristic ‘tailed’ brass sideplate.

  The third category, the ‘volunteers’, were for the most part men who lacked the money and influence necessary to obtain a commission by more conventional means; they enlisted to serve in the ranks in the hope of one day being offered any vacancy which arose. Naturally such opportunities occurred most frequently in wartime or when a battalion was far from home. On active service there were obvious advantages for all concerned, in that the vacancy could be filled on the spot instead of waiting for a replacement to be sent from home. At the same time, the volunteer, by virtue of having served for a time in the ranks, would come to the job with some useful training and experience. Just as importantly, perhaps, he would have gained an empathy with the rank and file which a newly hatched ensign commissioned straight from school would never attain.

  Just how widespread the practice of promoting volunteers was is hard to assess, since it is often unclear whether the local promotions recorded in orderly books refer to volunteers or deserving NCOs.

  Samuel Bagshawe enlisted as a private in the 26th Foot in 1731 and served seven years in the Gibraltar garrison, eventually becoming quartermaster sergeant. For an Englishman serving in a Scottish regiment this was considered to
be pretty good going at the time. He only escaped from the ranks when his uncle bought him out, and two years later he obtained an ensign’s commission in the 30th Foot through the influence of the Duke of Devonshire. More typical, perhaps, was a 19-year-old Inverness-shire man, John Urquhart. The son of a grenadier wounded at Belle Isle in 1761, he served two years in the ranks of 1/Royals before obtaining an ensign’s commission without purchase in January 1791 and ultimately working up to Captain. (See MAA 285 King George’s Army 1740-93 Vol. 1).

  Oddly enough, in the summer of 1794 no fewer than three out of the 11 officers actually on duty in 1/Royals had begun their career in the ranks. Odder still, they also represented the three main strands by which rankers could gain promotion: Urquhart, of course, was a volunteer; George Edington had gained his commission through merit and perhaps a bit of conspicuous bravery, since promotion from Sergeant came in the wake of the capture of Port au Prince; and the eldest of the trio, Alexander Davidson, had accelerated up from quartermaster sergeant to quartermaster and then to an ensign’s commission, dying shortly before his promotion to Lieutenant was approved.

  Reconstruction: Folding canvas knapsack 1790s, marked up to No.5 coy. 1st or Strathspey Fencibles. Painted green with a black roundel bearing white lettering and numbers. [Author’s collection]