Yeomen of England Page 2
Brackley troop officer and trooper in green tunic with buff facings, 1790s. (NYA)
Whilst national and county authorities drove relentlessly on towards a War Office total of 15,120 Yeomanry cavalry in 1798, junior officers and non-commissioned officers (NCOs) wrestled with the growing problems of a new organisation. The troops in Northamptonshire needed an expert military horseman to lick them into shape in the way that infantry regimental sergeant majors (RSMs) drilled foot soldiers to perfection. After advertisements and enquiries, Thomas Pickering was discovered. He had already served for more than twenty years with the Household Cavalry, latterly as their riding master, and would now contribute another twenty years’ service to the Yeomanry in Northamptonshire. He, like all other Yeomen, would go on to a fixed remuneration scale, starting at 2s 9d per day of duty rendered. (In 1942 the author joined up on 3s a day, but the 1794 allowance was worth far more for part-time attendance!) Yeomen would also gain other perks, including exemption from paying toll charges if in uniform and also from a tax on the white wig powder so often used by dandies of the time.
Captain Arnold in Daventry lacked a suitable troop sergeant, so he placed an advert in the Mercury newspaper on 14 June 1794 calling for a qualified person. A response came from former regular sergeant Samuel Clitsey, who was considered suitable despite lacking a thumb. Now very happy, the Daventry Troop paraded next time with their worthy, single-thumbed troop sergeant. Clitsey’s horse, an unfamiliar steed of an anarchic disposition, promptly reared up and threw the sergeant heavily. His leg was broken so badly that he had to resign from the troop forthwith. Captain Arnold placed another advert in the Mercury.
There seems to have been no great problem with the provision of arms for the first troops raised. A trooper’s armament consisted of a carbine, about the size of a modern rifle, together with a bayonet and rammer to muzzle-load the gun; a rather complicated large pistol with a bore the size of a carbine’s; and a sword, initially some of them straight but usually of the slightly curved sabre type. Then there was the question of the distinguishing badge. In some cases, county units simply took the county badge as their emblem. With a voice at court, Earl Spencer petitioned the king for use of the king’s own badge, the galloping ‘White Horse of Hanover’. This was graciously approved, the NY being one of four military formations to be allowed to wear that emblem.
The next priority was the standard around which the unit would rally. For the cavalry the appropriate form of flag was, and still is, the guidon – an oblong shape with a triangular segment cut out of the leading edge. This is seen very much as a royal honour gracing the regiment, squadron or troop. Amid all his other activities, Earl Spencer gave his attention to the design and production of the regiment’s first three guidons. On 5 October 1795 Messrs Cox and Greenwood presented their invoice for ‘three standards and paint, with proper badges, arms and etc. Gold fringe and tassels, staves and cases and 3 cornet belts, gold laced. Total £41.0.0.’
Thus it was possible on Saturday 17 October 1795 for the local Mercury to report:
This town has been witness to many a public scene that pleased the eye and interested the heart; but safely may we assert that never were the inhabitants more pleased, or their hearts more gratified, than by the splendid scene which took place on the general review of the regiment of Yeomanry, by their Colonel, and the delivery of the Standards by Lady Spencer. All appeared Love, Loyalty and Unanimity. So deeply did the spectators enter into the spirit of the show that it was only after it was all over they recollected the morning was wet and unfavourable for a public spectacle.
Presentation of three guidons by ‘the ladies’, 1795. (Tout)
The regiment had assembled on the racecourse before riding into town. There, three cornets ‘had the distinguished honour of having the standard belt put over their shoulders by the fair hands of their patriotic countrywomen’. Lady Spencer then handed the standards ‘with inimitable grace’ to the colonel who delivered each to the proper officer. With an eye to current politics, the chaplain, Reverend Bailey, prayed that the Yeomen would ‘stand forth in support’ of, among other priorities, the ‘Constitution under which, through thine infinite goodness, these kingdoms have hitherto prospered, and which, by thy gracious Providence, they may be enabled to maintain, and to transmit, unimpaired, to their latest posterity’.
At the presentation of the first guidon to the Gloucestershire Gentlemen and Yeomanry the chaplain, the vicar of Cheltenham, was much more poetic than Reverend Bailey, although still assuming that God would provide similar reinforcement, declaiming:
Lurks here sedition in her murky cell,
With whom congenial imps of darkness dwell.
Your magic swords shall, like Ithuriel’s spear,
Detect the monster in her foul career.
’Tis yours kind friends, to guard with tender care,
And shield from brutal insolence the Fair;
The brightest actions from these sources spring
Truth, friendship, Love, our altars and our King.4
In Northampton Earl Spencer addressed the troops with obvious pride, acknowledging ‘the unwearied pains, which, it was evident to the delighted eye of every spectator, they had taken since he last saw them, which gave him the most sensible satisfaction’. He then took his place at the head of the column, with the ‘several standards flying at the head of each squadron’ as they returned to the ‘race-ground’. For the ladies there was ‘a very elegant cold collation’ prepared in the grandstand, but the troops themselves were released to the George Inn and the Peacock Inn, where their consumption of roast beef and beers led to more loyal toasts and exuberant singing, including:
Success to our Fleets and our Armies who roam
Likewise our brave Yeomen who guard us at home
May George long be King and his Subjects be free
And Fame sound the praise of his brave Yeomanry.
Another of their songs included the significant lines: ‘And Northamptonshire Yeomen … have like Britons come forward, to humble all those, who are Englishmen bred, yet are Englishmen’s foes.’ Even before the presentation of the guidons the NY had been called out on civil disturbance duty. In April 1793 the price of wheat in Northampton had been 42s a bushel, but by August 1795 it had risen to 108s a bushel. The price of bread rose accordingly, as did the cost of other essentials, and this led to inevitable protests. Then on 4 April 1795, near Queen Eleanor’s Cross, Northampton, as food wagons approached the town:
A numerous body of people proceeded to cut open the butter flats [wagons], the contents of which, as well as a quantity of meat, they carried off. In a short time all the Yeomanry who reside in the town, attended by their officers, J.H. Thursby, jnr, and R.B. Cox esqr., were on horseback, completely acoutred and ready to give assistance to return order … but the crowd soon dispersed.
So there was already a call for local action in civil situations. And it is highly likely that the rampaging civilians at Queen Eleanor’s Cross were less impelled by French republican philosophy than by sheer common hunger. But if the average Yeoman was dreaming of glorious cavalry charges at the gallop against the republican Frenchmen, they were, in the vast majority, likely to be disappointed. Under Carnot, who followed Robespierre and preceded Napoleon as French head of state, there were certainly serious plans afoot in 1796 for an invasion of the British Isles.
In fact the young rising military star, Napoleon Bonaparte, had refused the opportunity of invading England and the task reverted to Colonel William Tate, an elderly Irish-American. The French War Minister, General Hoche, raised a Seconde Legion de France, mainly from specially pardoned prisoners and deserters, which led to the formation being termed the ‘Black Legion’. Ships were provided to convey these troops, not to the nearest Kent or Sussex coast, but to Wales and Ireland. The latter attack was aimed at creating an independent pro-French Ireland and, at the same time, a Welsh landing would gain a bridgehead on the mainland: Britain would be attacked thro
ugh the back door from a firm Irish base. The western section of the French fleet had aimed to land in the Bristol Channel, but adverse winds drove it north to Cardigan Bay. Sailing under British colours, those ships anchored at Carreg Wasted Point, near Fishguard, on Wednesday 22 February 1797, hoisted the French tricolour and disembarked. Tate set up defence points on Carn Wynda and Carn Gelli hills but, as the French soldiers had not been provided with food supplies, they immediately began to disperse and forage widely. Some soldiers located a farmhouse stocked with wine from a smuggler’s boat which had been wrecked on Pencaer Rocks. The lucky lads began to imbibe.5
At 11 p.m. that night Lord Cawdor was alerted at his home nearby. There were volunteer infantry available under the young Lieutenant Colonel Thomas Knox, but he had no military experience, so Cawdor appointed the more experienced Lord Milford, captain of the Castlemartin Yeomanry Cavalry, to command the defence. Meanwhile, the French troops had been dismayed to see their ships sail away and leave them at the mercy of whatever armies might assemble against them. The French admiral Castagnier intended to cross to Ireland to land more troops there. At this point the British Navy intervened and the French infantry around Fishguard were effectively marooned. Had they been experienced, disciplined troops they would still have been a formidable, well-armed invasion force.
Against the invaders Lord Milford had a motley but spectacular little army. Many civilians had rallied to the scene carrying makeshift weapons such as farm implements. The militia infantry formed up in drilled lines. On horseback the Castlemartin Yeomanry in their splendid uniforms were an impressive sight. It is not known precisely if it was an idea of Lord Milford’s but, spontaneous or planned, a force of 400 Welsh women in red flannel cloaks and traditional tall hats marched into sight. One of the women, Jemima Nicholas, a tall 47-year-old cobbler armed with a pitchfork, had already rounded up and captured a dozen of the foraging enemy.
On the French side, Tate and the planners had hoped that their invasion would provoke revolutionary anarchy among the depressed and desperate local population. Now, as one report describes it, ‘the French troops had not shown any real inclination to fight but a strong inclination to drink. Lord Cawdor called for an unconditional surrender and the invaders laid down their arms. The success of the defenders’ bluff, and the danger which might have developed, is illustrated by the fact that the local people collected about fifty-five cartloads of French weapons from Goodwick Sands after the surrender. The Castlemartin (Pembrokeshire) Yeomanry thus became the only Yeomanry to be in action against the French and have since proudly carried the unique battle honour ‘Fishguard’ on their guidons.
Castlemartin Yeomanry (on horseback) receive surrender of French in ranks (centre) – battle honour ‘Fishguard’. (Pembrokeshire Museum/ Dyfed)
For other Yeomanry regiments it was a less glorious routine of drills and occasional call-outs, either in a moment of abortive national emergency or some minor civil disturbance. One such incident caused the call-out of the Northampton and Althorp troops in July 1799, the official account stated that ‘in consequence of some obstructions which the Commissioners, [responsible] for dividing and enclosing the open field of Wilbarton, have met with from a number of persons claiming right of common in the said fields – who not only avowed their determination to resist the fencing-out of a piece of land allotted to them in lieu of the common right, but had even set the civil power at defiance’. The Yeomanry troops were commanded by Major Cartwright, accompanied by Reverend Mr Griffin, magistrate, and ‘having under escort a wagon loaded with posts and rails for fencing out the above allotment’. The Yeomen found a ‘mob of about 300 persons’, who had lit a large bonfire in the road to obstruct the wagons. The magistrate then read the Riot Act and, after waiting an hour to allow tempers, and fire, to cool somewhat, the troops were ordered to advance with the wagon. One or two of ‘the most active of the mob were taken into custody and compelled to assist in setting down the posts and rails’. The Yeomanry then stood by for about three hours, during which the greatest part of the crowd had dispersed and ‘the workmen were left in quiet possession of the field’. There were no reports of casualties or further penalties against protesters and the Yeomen rankers were paid their 2s 9d each.
In 1798, T. Dicey & Co. printers and publishers had found it worthwhile to produce a twenty-six-page booklet entitled ‘PLAN OF EXERCISE for the Northamptonshire Yeomen Cavalry’. This reveals the complicated drill moves which the huntsmen and smallholders of the county were expected to learn and perfect. It includes formations, sword exercises, wheeling manoeuvres and even the format for a march past at a general’s inspection. The spontaneous and rumbustious enthusiasm of the hunt would be replaced by the regulated and schematic discipline of the parade ground.
One complicated evolution awaiting the rough riders was preceded by the cautionary order ‘Form Squadron on the right division by the oblique march …’ Then a succession of orders: ‘Divisions on the right back half wheel – March! … Halt! … Dress!’ These loudly shouted commands should produce the following wheel:
The right division stands fast – the other divisions will be ordered to wheel back on the reverse flank, as much as is necessary to place that flank perpendicularly to its point in line – the conducting Officers having placed themselves on that flank, the whole will march; and as each division arrives within twenty or twenty-five paces of the line, its conducting Officer gives the word ‘Left shoulder, forward!’ to which the man next to himself gradually turns his horse, so as to arrive in the line perpendicularly square to his own person, and the rest of his division conforming to him, and proportionately quickening their pace arrive in full parallel front on the line. The Officer then gives the word ‘Halt! Dress up!’ and changes to his post in squadron.
At which point, during the first trial parade, it might be assumed that the smallholder from Luddington-in-the Brook, the blacksmith from Brafield-on-the-Green, the miller from Bugbrooke and even the schoolmaster from Daventry, together with their horses, more inured to choosing each its own gap in the hedge ahead in pursuit of the baying hounds, would all feel a little disorientated in seeking the perpendicular. Perhaps riding master Pickering wished he had remained with the Household Cavalry and Troop Sergeant Clitsey glad that he had broken his leg so badly. It is not surprising that a note suggests that ‘attention must be paid to placing intelligent men on the flanks of divisions’.
Consideration was given to the demands upon the rankers of their civilian occupations, especially at harvest time, and individual troops varied their programmes as necessary. Where possible longer periods of combined training were arranged, but not yet the annual camps of later days. On 18 September 1801 the Northampton troop, having lost parade time due to harvesting, was summoned to train full time for three days, Monday to Wednesday. At this time rumours were circulating of a possible peace treaty with the French. On Saturday 21 November 1801, Earl Spencer paraded his troops and advised them that ‘though there was every prospect of the peace being soon finally concluded, yet that till the Definitive Treaty was signed they should hold themselves in constant readiness’. He also thanked them for their ‘respectable appearance and cheerful attendance’.
It seems that even at that time newspapers were not averse to quoting from ‘sources’. Recording that the parade had ended with ‘three loud huzzas’, the reporter went on to say: ‘We understand from a hint dropped by his Lordship that he was not prepared then to say what would be His Majesty’s further pleasure concerning them when the Definitive Treaty was signed.’ It was on another Saturday, 24 July 1802, that the earl informed the Yeomen of the provisions of the signed Treaty of Amiens and the possibility of continuing service even during peacetime. The reporter’s version revealed that there was a certain amount of democratic choice in the destiny of Yeomanry regiments at that time:
If the Regiment should in general conceive that the object for which they been originally formed was already attained, and that no impor
tant purpose would be answered by their further continuance, he should readily acquiesce in their determination, but on the other hand, of they should, with him, think that so respectable and constitutional a corps as the Yeomanry would, even in times of Peace, prove of essential service, both to procuring the continuance of the Peace and increasing the internal security of the Country, he should with great pleasure resume his command of a body of men who were entitled to his warmest appreciation and sincere acknowledgements of their constant attention to him.
His Lordship’s words were received with ‘loud acclamations’, which no doubt redoubled when he announced that ‘two fat bucks’ were already turning on the spits at the Peacock Inn ‘awaiting their acceptance’. Before dealing with the two fat bucks, enough men signalled their intention to continue service that the local troops were immediately filled up to establishment level. So it was with great gusto that loyal toasts were drunk, including ’May we never be weary of well-doing’. This led on to more of the songs which were now familiar to all ranks: