"In the Cry" Fox hunting in
1813.
Other
officers had access to his fox hounds but most of the
Army had poor mounts and could not partake in the hunt. The importance of his hounds to Wellington shows
up in his orders to his Generals warning them not to
forget the pack when the army was on the march.
One hungry soldier of the 71st Regiment of Foot
experienced a different advantage from the Duke's dog
pack:
"We were sent to break biscuit, and make a mess for Lord
Wellington's hounds. I was very hungry, and thought it a
good job at the time, as we got our own fill, while we
broke the biscuit - a thing I had not got for some
days."
Wellington did complain of the lack of a pack of
harriers to provide rabbit for the officer mess.
This deficiency was made up somewhat by other officers
who had speedy greyhounds to run down the hares. A 95th Rifle
officer's prized Spanish greyhound, named Moro,
along with his two other hounds "supplied the officer's
mess of every Company with hares for soup."
The celebrated English coursing (racing) Greyhound
Snowdrop (published 1807)
The Duke
of Wellington also owned a greyhound and Moro
came close to racing against him, but the war cancelled
the event. There was a long standing argument in
the army of which was faster an English or a Spanish
greyhound. The 95th Rifle officer clearly thought
his beloved Moro was the fastest in
the Army. Other officers attempted do lay the issue to
rest with a race in October 1812:
"a large coursing party
went out on the plains near Guinaldo...A capital
hare was found, and she went away for a mile or two
over as fine a country for coursing as is any where
to be found, before two English greyhounds, which
had lately been sent out to the 43rd regiment, and a
Spanish greyhound, considered excellent. The
hare was killed by the English dogs, which were so
exhausted by the heat of the day and the severity of
the course, that on e them died immediately, and the
other was saved with great difficulty by bleeding.
The Spanish dog came up very contentedly a long
whicle after the hard and greyhound were dead. The
heat had not affected him, because he was accustomed
to the climate; and, moreofer, he took particular
care not to distress himself by an over-display of
zeal."
Two greyhounds coursing
after a hare (by John Wray Snow, 1837)
At least one soldier's
family had greyhounds and their use as rabbit hunters
was of great advantage. However these hunters
turned into heroes in February 1814. While crossing a
river, the soldier's wife slipped into deep water
along with her greyhounds on a rope leach. She
would have perished, if she had not been dragged ashore
by her dogs.
Spaniel and Master Ambushed Near New Orleans
Young 17-year-old Ensign Robert Gleig of the 85th Light
Infantry set off for the Peninsular war in 1813 with a
nine-month-old spaniel pup in his possession. She was
his loyal little companion and went with him everywhere,
"even in battle." While Gleig was very fond of his
Spaniel, he noted a dog had practical advantages: "A
well-trained dog is no bad help-mate to an officer who
has charge of an out-post; indeed, I was never greatly
alarmed, notwithstanding the communications of my
videttes, unless my little four-footed patrol confirmed
their statements. If she barked or growled, then I
felt assured that something dangerous was near; if she
continued quiet, I was comparatively easy." His
spaniel also served as a retriever when Gleig went
fowling.
A black and white spaniel
(published 1800)
As war ended in Europe,
Gleig's regiment was transferred to fighting in North
America. After his regiment landed and encamped
during the siege of New Orleans, the Americans
counterattacked that night. In the confusing
nocturnal struggle in which the Americans were forced
back, Gleig's spaniel never left his side. A few
days later, Gleig was doing his rounds checking outposts
at an hour after midnight. As always his faithful
spaniel was trotting a few paces in front of him:
suddenly stopped short
at the edge of the thicket and began to bark
violently, and great apparent anger. I knew the
animal well enough to be aware, that some cause must
exist for such conduct; and I too stopped short...
at the instant of my halting, about a half-a-dozen
muskets were discharged from the copse, the muzzle
of which, had I taken five steps forward, musket
have touched my body. The balls whizzed
harmlessly past my head..."
Gleig returned fire with the
pistol and charged into the woods
with his sabre, but his assailants had fled. The
spaniel had fouled the ambush and saved her master's
life.
Pugs and Poodles on the Peninsula
The French attack came as a
complete surprise and one of the most determined in the
Peninsular War. The wives and followers of the
army were caught completely off guard and had to move fast.
In the turmoil, fifteen-year-old Lady Juana Smith was
separated from her thoroughbred pug Vittoria.
Named after the famous 1813 battle, it was
soon shortened to Vitty and was easily
recognizable by her extraordinary collar of bells.
Vitty had become a celebrity in the Division, being universally known and liked. Juana's husband,
Captain Harry Smith described the pug as "the most
sensible brute Nature ever produced." Alone in the
French artillery bombardment, Vitty was
recognized by young bugler of the 52nd Light Infantry
who snatched him up and stuck him in his haversack.
For the rest of the brisk engagement, Vitty
remained snuggly stowed. After the attack and the
counterattack, Vittoria was returned to the hardy
and equally popular Lady Smith.
.jpg)
Portrait of Sylvie de la Rue
with her pug in 1806 by Francis van der Donckt
Poodles were popular
companions of French and Spanish soldiers and their
fierce loyalty to their masters had gained them respect
from the British. A Spanish Officer was killed at
the Battle of Talavera in 1809 and his large poodle
faithfully laid on his grave and refused food. On
hearing of the dog, General Thomas Graham sent his
servant to bring the animal to his quarters.
However the servant returned empty handed because the
dog would not let him come near. The General
ordered him to take as many soldiers as needed to
accomplish the task. Named Muchuch,
the dog spent part of the war with the General.
Later the poodle was sent to
the General's friend in Edinburgh, Scotland. With
part of his ear shot off in battle, Muchuch
became both a family and garrison favorite. When
the cannons of Edinburgh Castle were fired "Muchuch
got into a great excitement, the house door was opened
and ran direct to the Castle and straight to the battery
among men. After a while he was regularly expected on
such and welcomed and made much of by the soldiers."
When the garrison heard of the past service of Muchuch,
the Edinburgh Castle guard turned out to salute with
"present arms" when the "old hero" poodle came to visit.
Sancho the poodle at the
Battle of Salamanca. The message in his mouth says "For
my owner" in Spanish. (pub. 1813)
Soldiers of one regiment
departing for Portugal took a passing notice of a rough-looking
poodle. Nothing was made of it until the same
poodle appeared while the regiment pressed the French's
retreat out of Portugal in 1811. Clearly the
poodle had somehow made it on board ship and was still
following them. First he was called "the poor
relation" because he had no owner, but the soldiers
soon settled on the name Jack. Jack
was dirty brown with long twisted ringlets of hair
matted together. It was not his looks but his true
heart of unshaken fidelity that earned Jack the
admiration of the troops. Some soldiers thought he
owned by a French prisoner of war in Hilsea near Portsmouth, while
others debated if he was of Dutch origin. Such
banter and deliberation "cheated many a march of its
tedium."
On the march, Jack
posted himself the pioneers in the rear. In
quarters, he frequented the tailor's and shoemaker's
shops helping the workers through the monotony of their
tasks. In camp Jack's home was a tent of
the grenadiers. Yet "of all his eccentricities, and he
had many, the most singular was his love of getting
under fire; if the Light Infantry were engaged, Jack
cocked his ears, away he went... on a line advancing,
Jack was about fifty paces in front, barking and
howling until his voice was lost in the general cheer or
heavy fire." At the battles of Salamanca, Nive,
Neville, Orther and Toulouse, Jack led the
attack.
When Jack fell sick,
the grenadiers took turns carrying him in a knapsack for
three days of march. When news came of
Napoleon's abdication the whole army exploded into a
joyous celebration. All were merry except a solemn
group of soldiers who dug a grave to lay to rest their
favourite companion and true friend Jack.
Court Martialing the Regiment's Dog
Hector was an
adorable Newfoundland dog, who with a wooden stick in his mouth
would perform the musket drill with the rest of the
regiment, He even stood on his hind legs at
attention. His post in the ranks was behind the
centre of the battalion but would vacate his spot and
accompany commanding officer if an inspection of the
troops was deemed necessary. Mimicking the commander,
Hector "stopped when he stopped,
moved when he moved, looked when he looked." When
the regiment's colonel would approach him, the big
Newfoundlander, Hector would stand on his hind
legs and salute with his right paw.
However like soldiers,
Hector could get himself into trouble. When he
visited the "queen of the Regiment" the drum-major's
wife, she would give him some alcohol which he was quite
fond of. When intoxicated, Hector was "a
good-humoured jovial fellow" happy to dance a jig, but
also played a number of
tricks on the men. One time Hector snatched the
soldier's trousers drying on a clothes line and muddied
them.
The only solution for such insubordination was to call a
regimental court martial. Hector
was found guilty of his crimes and was denied his
Sunday dinner, and was to be shunned by the soldier he
liked the most in the regiment.
A Newfoundland Dog saving a
boy. (pub. 1803) They were common on ships and saved
many who fell overboard. One was secreted aboard a
transport with the troops only to fall later from a
musket ball during the Battle of Corunna.
While Hector was far
from a disruptive influence on parade, the presence of
most dogs was discouraged. In 1806 at Gibraltar,
officer and soldier dogs had become such a nuisance at
parade that the garrison commander threatened to "put in
force the old Garrison orders of hanging them."
Clearly this threat was ignored, and a month later the
General commanding ordered "all dogs on the Grand Parade
at Guard Mounting or when a Regiment is there will in
future be hanged agreeable to the old standing orders".
It is unknown if any dogs were executed.
Dogs on Loyal Volunteers
parade ground. (published 1803)
Killing a dog that
a regiment was fond of was a very dangerous thing.
One dog, a lurcher, followed the 1st Dragoon Guards from
England to Belgium in 1815.
Though having no particular owner, he became a favorite
among the men. At the Battle of Waterloo he
charged uniformly with the front of the cavalry regiment
and after the battle returned to his usual spot of
beside the fire of the regiment's main guard. The
dog ran down rabbits and carried them home to the men
who fed him. While the 1st Dragoon Guards were
stationed in suburbs of Paris after Waterloo, the lurcher was shot by some French park-keepers for
poaching in their rabbit burrow. The troopers were
enraged by the murder of their four-legged comrade and
sought revenge. Somehow they found out who
had pulled the trigger and the man was surrounded on the
street and beaten to an inch of his life. If not for
the quick thinking of another British soldier passing
by, who convinced the troopers they had the wrong man,
the Frenchman would have been killed.
1st (King's) Dragoon Guards
fighting French Dragoons, 1815 (Royal Coll.)
Common Dogs for Common Soldiers?
Reading
historic regulations
is tricky. For example, in 1812, the 29th
Regiment of Foot ordered "no loose or disorderly women
ever to be admitted into the barracks, nor dogs, fowls,
pigeons, &c. &c. which may interfere with the
cleanliness of the men's rooms." Another example
is the 71st Light Infantry in 1809 who decreed "no dogs,
or animals that can tend to litter the rooms, to be ever
permitted to enter them." Yet a third regiment,
the 62nd in 1813 stated: "Dogs, cats, poultry, or any
animal that might cause filth, are positively prohibited
being kept in the rooms." From this
one may be left with the impression dogs were not
allowed in barracks but this is a deception. Yes, barracks regulations positively stated dogs are not
allowed but the regiments enforced those rules. The
qualifiers of "which may interfere", "can tend to", and
"might cause" are significant. If the dog did not
"cause filth" that animal would be tolerated. The
proliferation of four-legged friends at Gibraltar show
dogs in barracks were allowed unless that dog was
disruptive or were not house-trained.
Dog in an English Barracks, 1788 (by
Thomas Rowlandson)
Feral dogs that had no owner
but followed the regiment may not make it into the
barracks rooms but the fireside of the Guardhouse may
provide a friendly home. One of the fires in an encampment was receptive to a dog's
companionship. If not with the soldiers, their
families or sutlers of the army
would provided opportunities for food and acceptance.
One dog at a St. Giles public house in London named
Towser famously
licked the plates clean for the next customer. A crafty sutler could use an obliging dog
to speed the clean up after a hectic day of providing
better delights than a soldier's daily rations.
Dog licking plates at a
sutler's tent by William Henry Pyne. (pub. 1797)
Some wild dogs showed
no inclination to domesticate
and only sought opportunity to survive. For
example, at one instance a soldier's musket exploded
taking away part of his hand. A dog ran away with
one of his fingers. Packs of dogs could be very
disruptive. While in South Africa in 1806, the
78th Highlanders were out on the parade drilling.
Suddenly a flock of ostriches came stampeding across the
parade pursued by barking dogs. On a collision
course with the regiment, the massive birds knocked to
the ground a section of soldiers and left them stunned
in the dust.
These incidents aside, soldiers were
naturally fond of dogs. One officer attributed it to "the
very strange coincidence of their following them from
town to town. Many a hoary dog has deserted his
parental home; many a young puppy has flown from a
severe mistress to follow the soldiers."
Soldiers were always strangers in the next town. Yet the
dogs following them offered soldiers a line of
continuity and familiarity.
British soldier's dog with a Recruiting Party
(published in 1798)
The
final story captures how profound the
relationship between the common soldier and his faithful dog could be.
One night an 87th Regiment officer was doing his rounds
close to the enemy to make sure the sentries were alert
and challenging anyone coming close to their posts.
They were facing the much feared Nepalese Gurkhas who
could attack at anytime. When a sentry responded
with a barely audible challenge, the officer moved to
reprimand the sentry for not being louder. In his
defense, the soldier explained that he did not want to
disturb his dog who was sleeping under a nearby bush.
The soldier went on to say that they shared the duty of
sentry and his dog had just finished his round noting
the dog would:
"stand
his hour and walk his round; that in very dark
nights, he would even put his ear to the ground, and
listen; and that during the period assigned to him
as his turn to watch, he would never venture to lie
down, but would steadily and slowly walk his round,
which nothing could induce him to leave, such was
his opinion of the nautre and responsibility of his
post."
While his faithful dog stood
sentry, his master would nap. Sleeping on sentry in a
war zone was a shooting offence but the soldier was
confident his dog would perform his duty well.
The
soldier's dog
was a powerful, furry-eared Persian greyhound. Once an
East India Company officer was given the hound and took
him away a distance of over four hundred miles to his
new home. Upon being let out, the greyhound took flight
back towards his original master. Two and half days
later, the soldier awoke at the Main guard with the dog
licking his face. Another time, the private had gotten
drunk and passed out under a bush. When he awoke, the
soldier discovered he had been dragged more than three
yards out of the undercover and near him was large snake
torn to pieces. His faithful greyhound had saved his
life.
Soldiers on the March with a dog,
1811 (by Thomas Rowlandson)
---------
Select Bibliography
---- A Soldier of the Seventy-First Regiment
Highland Light Infantry from 1806 to 1815. 3rd
Edition (Edinburgh, 1822).
---- Standing Orders of
His Majesty's 29th, or Worchestershire Regiment of Foot.
(London, 1812).
---- Standing Orders of the 2nd Battalion of the
62nd, or Wiltshire Regiment. (Cork, 1813).
----
Standing Orders of the Seventy-First Highland
and Glasgow Regiment of Light Infantry of the Line.
(London, 1809).
---- "Order Book of the 10th Regiment of Foot"
[Gibraltar, 1806]. LAC, MG 23 GIII 23. Vol. 4.
---- Barracks Regulations, December 5, 1807. PRO WO
26/40.
---- The Sporting Magazine. Vol. 30. (London,
1808)
---- The Sporting Magazine, Vol. 9 Second Series
[Vol. 81] (London, 1834).
Mrs. Fitzmaurice, Recollections of a Rifleman's Wife
at Home and Abroad. (London, 1851).
Robert Gleig,
The Light Dragoon. (London, 1851)
Robert Gleig,
The Subaltern. (London, 1825)
Robert Gleig,
A Narrative of the Campaigns of the
British Army at Washington and New Orleans. 2nd
Edition (London, 1826).
John Green, The Vicissitudes of a Soldier's Life.
(Louth, 1827).
John Gurwood, The Dispatches of Field Marshal The
Duke of Wellington. (London, 1838).
Roderick Innes,
The Life of Roderick Innes, Lately of
H.M. Seventy-Eighth Regiment (Stonehaven, 1844).
George R. Jesse, Researches into the History of the
British Dog. (London, 1866).
J. Leach, Rough Sketches of the Life of an Old Soldier.
(London, 1831).
John Shipp, The Military Bijou or The Contents of a
Soldier's Knapsack. Vol. 1-2 (London, 1831).
John Shipp,
Memoirs of the Extraordinary Military
Career of John Shipp. 2nd Edition Vol. 2 (London,
1830).
Moore Smith ed., The Autobiography of
Lieutenant-General Sir Harry Smith. (London, 1903).
 |
Author Robert
Henderson enjoys unearthing and telling
stories of military valour, heritage, and
sacrifice from across the globe. Lest we forget. |
