Soldiers

David Birrell, the son of George Birrell (Number 5), was an officer in the East India Company’s Bengal Army and had an illustrious career, including fighting in the Burmese War and in Afghanistan. At the Battle of Aliwal (painting by unknown artist), part of the Sikh War, Birrell led his troops on horseback and was the first to reach the enemy trench, where he narrowly escaped death. Attacked by two sword-wielding Sikhs in succession, he was saved by the intervention of his men, who bayoneted one and shot the other. He also narrowly avoided being blown to pieces by an exploding Sikh magazine, which killed a number of his soldiers as they advanced. He kept a diary and in it recounts the battle: ‘On passing our Artillery, the gunners gave us a cheer, and when some distance past them, I prepared to charge, giving the word “Charge” when about 200 paces from the enemy’s Batteries. At 80 paces or so all our front rank gave a volley from the hip almost as we received a volley of grape shot which caused many casualties in our ranks. We then rushed on capturing the guns in gallant style, the Sikh gunners who had stood to the last being bayoneted and shot by our men who had reserved their fire.’ John, Lord Rollo of Duncrub (Number 15) fought with The Scots Guards and participated in The Battle of Lincelles in August 1793 during the French Revolutionary Wars, which ended a period of thirty years when Britain was at peace. This long period without warfare resulted in the resources for the British army being significantly reduced and although the strength of the Scots Guards was comparatively healthy, they were under-equipped for their expedition and had to sail to fight the French in coal barges. The Dutch, led by the Prince of Orange and British allies, had been driven from the hilltop village of Lincelles near Dunkirk, and when the Guards arrived it was fortified and defended by 5,000 Frenchmen. Although the Guards had only 1,100 men they bravely climbed the hill against artillery and musket fire and against all odds managed to storm the barricades. Rollo was one of two officers who distinguished themselves by placing the King's Colour on one of the French redoubts.

In 1862, Major Dawson was on leave and lodging with his pregnant wife at Number 8. Four years earlier he had been involved in The Ambela Campaign in the North West Frontier. The British set out to attack local Pashtuns tribes who were vehemently opposed to British colonial rule and Dawson was in charge of the 93rd Highlanders. The army’s march was described by a fellow officer, Lieutenant Colonel Gordon Alexander: ‘As in most mountain passes hereabouts, it commences upon a track along the dry stony bed of a mountain torrent, confined between high, steep and rocky mountains. This track had been made passable for beasts of burden by the Punjab Sappers, but hardly in any place admitted of more than one passing at a time. It had poured with rain on the 8th, and the rain continued in showers throughout the march. A company of the 98rd formed the advance guard, then the 93rd regiment, then the elephants with the guns, etc, and lastly a company of the 101st as the rear guard, the whole marching in single file. The rain pouring incessantly washed down earth, rocks and stones from the heights above, which blocked up the path, and terribly impeded the camels and elephants, necessitating frequent halts to enable the baggage to keep up with the column. The flanks were protected by the armed retainers of friendly Ehans, a wild and picturesque but very motley throng, armed with shield, tulwar and matchlock. They were nicknamed by the men “Catch 'em alive ohs" from the fact of their never killing any of the enemy.’ Alexander later mentions Dawson: ‘It was now about eleven a.m., and the heat fearful, in fact, I have since heard that it was the hottest day on which British European soldiers were ever called upon to fight a general action. This I do know, that Brevet-Major Dawson of my regiment, who carried a thermometer in his holsters, showed it to me after I had joined the regiment in the afternoon, marking 151° where we were then standing in the sun. Yet the 93rd only lost one man killed by the sun. We — wearing feather bonnets — had, too, fewer men disabled by heat-apoplexy than any of the other regiments, although by the evening the hospitals were all crowded with cases. Curiously, the native troops suffered almost as much as the Europeans and I saw a driver of Native Horse Artillery, the only troop in the Bengal army that had not mutinied, drop off his horse that afternoon, close to Major Dawson and myself, and die in a few minutes of heat-apoplexy. We all suffered terribly from thirst, and I remember sucking up through the length of my pocket-handkerchief, as a filter, the water of a dirty puddle near the road, when with the siege-train that afternoon, after I had exhausted the contents of my water-bottle. The device, under such circumstances, is not a bad one, and the handkerchief marks how little sediment really reaches your mouth, for, while it was dark brown next the puddle, it was almost colourless at the corner held between my teeth.’

A lodger at Number 11 in 1866 was Catherine, the wife of Charles Vernon Jenkins, Assistant-Commander for the Punjab. She was lodging here for the birth of her fifth child. Unfortunately, she died in childbirth leaving four children under the age of ten for her husband to look after. In 1857, while Jenkins was an officer in India, the couple had been caught up in the outbreak of the Indian Mutiny. Jenkins, attached to the 2nd Oudh Infantry at Sultanpore, together with Catherine and at least two young children and 35 other ladies, gentlemen and children were attacked by a mob of hostile villagers. Two Sepoys of the 47th N.I., who were returning from furlough, came to their aid and brought them food and supplies. When the approach of a band of insurgents made it necessary for the refugees to split up into small parties, these Brahman Sepoys offered to procure Hindustani clothing for Lieutenant Jenkins and his family, and to smuggle them in disguise into Mirzapore. However, this was not necessary as an Indian land owner provided the fugitives with dhoolies, camels and elephants, and an escort of 150 men to Allahabad. The two Sepoys travelled with them and found them supplies, especially milk for the ladies and children, and in recognition of their support in this perilous situation, both Sepoys were promoted and received the Indian Order of Merit. Vernon received the Indian Mutiny medal, and later received two further medals: the China Medal 1857- 60 and the Empress of India Medal 1877. (photo of the three medals ) He remarried in 1867, and with his second wife, Amy, returned to India and there was promoted to Lieutenant-Colonel. In 1877, when Queen Victoria was proclaimed Empress of India, Jenkins was assigned to the important post of Political Officer to the entourage of the Maharaja of Kashmir at the celebrations in Delhi. In 1885 he was promoted to Major-General and retired.