regiment after regiment, hungry for recruits, sent parties to Ireland to recruit. It soon became impossible for a regiment to have served in Ireland not to have a strong Irish element. Recruiting parties found thousands of fit and tough young men only too eager to embrace the military life and escape the arduous living conditions and the problems caused by the lack of education, opportunity, and employment in an increasing population. Indeed, it was a policy to garrison a ‘skeleton’ battalion in Ireland after great losses from yellow fever in the West Indies to build up strength again. In 1797, for example, of the seven regular regiments of foot on the Irish establishment, five had recently returned from the West Indies, and were ‘skeleton’ units, busily recruiting.
The year 1795, two years after the outbreak of war with France, saw the formation of Ireland’s most controversial force, the Irish Militia, at a strength of 18,000, which was increased to 28,000 in 1798. With its sister forces in England and Scotland, the Irish Militia was to have a major impact on the make-up and performance of the British armed forces between 1798 and 1815. With a majority of the infantry of the line (regular army) being Irish, could their loyalty be counted on? When it came to suppressing the 1798 Rebellion, only regiments with an overwhelming proportion of non-Irish troops were sent, such as the 100th Highlanders, later the 92nd Gordon Highlanders, and the 5th Battalion of the 60th (Royal American), composed mainly of Germans. The greater part in the suppression of the rebellion was played by the Irish Militia and by Fencible regiments from Scotland, such as the Stratspey Fencibles. From 1799, various Militia Transfer Acts enabled militiamen to transfer to their chosen line regiment up to a maximum of 15 per cent of the strength of the militia unit each year. Further acts enabled extra transfers in certain years. These transfers were commonplace, and Ireland often surpassed England and Scotland in numbers of volunteers or in percentage of quota achieved. Although recruitment by other methods continued, militia transfers were far more important, delivering to the army a supply of trained and ready troops. Overall, the extent of Irish recruitment in the British Army was impressive. Between 1793 and 1815, as many as 200,000 may have enlisted, many of whom found their way to the Peninsula with Wellington.
Napoleon’s firm grip on the Continent of Europe and beyond began to slip as he over-reached, and after 15 years of continuous and glorious victories for France,his disastrous 10-month Russian campaign in 1812 was compounded by outright defeat against four European states at the three-day Battle of Leipzig in 1813. With Wellington’s army pushing up from the south and those of Austria, Prussia, and Russia moving in from the east, Napoleon was forced to abdicate and was exiled on the Mediterranean Island of Elba. Europe was at peace. However, like the explosive mix of saltpetre, sulphur, and charcoal that was gunpowder, the destabilising ingredients of Napoleon’s unquenched adventurous ambition was set to once again ignite, suddenly and sharply, and the Continent once more exploded into war.
PRELUDE TO BATTLE
The Congress of Vienna
THE RATTLE and rumpus of horseshoes together with the clanking and clatter of carriage wheels on the fashionable cobbled-stoned streets around the grand main entrance to Vienna’s lavish Hofburg Palace were momentarily drowned out by the loud pealing of bells from St Michaels, the parish church of the courts. The ringing reverberated over the domed roofs of the four and five-storey buildings then repeated as an echo around the city walls and through the elegantly decorated shop-fronted streets, the courtyards, squares and parks. The magnificent grandeur of the palace, a vast complex that was the former Emperor of Austria’s residence, was a permanent reminder of the glory of the Hofburg Empire. The royal apartments and buildings were in different styles, gothic, renaissance and baroque, and were an ornamental extravagance on a grand scale. Now it was an imperial forum playing host to the Congress of Vienna, a conference of delegates and dignitaries of European states who had come together in September 1814 to forge a new, and peacefully arrived at, balance of power in Europe. With Napoleon defeated and exiled in Elba, it was the perfect time to redraw the map of Europe. But only if they could agree to it. Six months on, in March 1815, the congress had in truth become deadlocked. Britain, Austria, and Bourbon France found themselves at variance with Prussia and Russia. Prussia wanted to annex Saxony, and Russia wanted Poland, the Tsar, Alexander I, himself overseeing Russian interests. Nearby, within hearing distance of the bells of St. Michael’s, Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington, famous victor of the Peninsular War, had the month previous replaced Robert Stewart, Viscount Castlereagh, as senior British representative. Wellington had become frustrated by the stalemate and this morning, 7 March 1815, he was undertaking not more negotiations, but rather preparations for a hunting trip on the grounds of Schönbrunn Palace. Busily overseeing final preparations before departure, he was interrupted by the dramatic news that ‘the Monster’, ‘the Werewolf’, the ‘Corsican Ogre’, Napoleon, had escaped from Elba, landed in France, and that the army and the people were flocking to his support. Wellington would be hunting bigger prey than he had imagined. The ‘Devil’ was unchained and required re-capturing!
‘An Enemy of Humanity’
Military men take risks, but they never gamble. Being audacious and daring is a desirable martial characteristic and a quality military instructors the world over encourage their students to exercise while at the same time warning about gambling. Taking a risk is only ever done after a careful estimation of the situation, when one’s alternative courses of actions are considered and contrasted; and a measured assessment of the options selected are weighted by criteria, often mathematically scored. The gamble is a more reckless, ‘devil may care’, exposure to hazard. Napoleon gambled that he had judged the underlying mood of the French people and army correctly, that their level of dissatisfaction with the restored Bourbon Monarchy was such that if he presented himself, they would follow him. Uncertain as this was, and it was indeterminable, a far greater unknown would be the reaction in capitals across Europe. He gambled that the unity of effort continuing in Vienna was more apparent than real, a façade that would crack. In the event, his reappearance galvanised it! Europe was alarmed, France’s Bourbon Monarch Louis XVIII was amazed, Marshal Soult was put in charge of the defences around Paris, while Marshal Ney was dispatched south from the French capital, boastfully declaring he would bring Napoleon back to Paris ‘in an iron cage’. Shortly after, Wellington learned of Napoleon’s sudden arrival onto French soil in Provence where he and his few followers were confronted by Marshal Ney with the 5th Regiment. While both sides, with weapons ready, sized up the tense moment, Napoleon seized it with typical bravado, flung open his greatcoat and with both hands brought up to his chest invited the Bourbon troops ‘to fire upon your Emperor’. Despite being ordered to do so, none did, and they joined him, as later did the 7th Regiment at Grenoble. All the way to Paris it was the same. His first gamble was over, causing him to remark, ‘Before Grenoble, I was an adventurer, after Grenoble I was a Prince’. If, in the case of the former gamble he proved himself correct, in the latter he had miscalculated. Even before Napoleon reached Paris, the rest of Europe had branded him ‘an enemy of humanity’, and all Europe declared war against him. Napoleon’s escape from Elba and likely restoration of the Empire could not be tolerated by the Allies, who sought to crush this emergent threat to European peace. However, as far as Napoleon was concerned, ‘he who saves a nation, violates no law’.
Napoleon had now to gamble a third time, and at its essence was time. He needed time to consolidate in order to regenerate a war-weary army and population, tired of bloodshed, conscription and taxes. He needed time to recruit, rearm, reconfigure. He needed time to prepare for war. This time too, he knew only too well, would be usefully used by his opponents, Austria, Russia, Prussia, and Britain. They could mobilise huge armies in excess of anything France could muster; 650,000 troops were converging on France – the noose was tightening. He faced a stark choice, to wait and grow a large force to defend French territory, or strike early and take a less large French force on a pre-emptive offensive to isolate the earlier mobilising Anglo-Allied (British, Dutch, German, and Belgian) and Prussian armies, and annihilate each one separately before the massive Austrian and Russian armies, taking longer to mobilise, could arrive. In doing so,
