The Grand Redoubt

Plan of Dungeness Redoubt

To begin with, I should explain that this is not a serious post about the history of the Grand Redoubt, Dungeness, although I have included a little information just to put the hilarity in context.

The following correspondence was discovered in the archives some years ago by my good friend Dr Jacqueline Reiter.  Surprisingly, she wasn’t trying to research anything about the latrines at the Grand Redoubt, but she thought this was a hilarious little window into real life in the coastal defences in 1809 and shared them with me. I laughed a lot. Despite the old-fashioned language, my first thought was that nothing changes. Exchanges like this still happen when red tape goes mad every day, all over the world.

Then, inevitably given the date, my thoughts wandered to my fictional officer of light infantry and I mused on the fact that this is just the kind of bureaucratic nonsense which would drive Paul van Daan up the wall. From there, I found myself wondering exactly where Paul might have been while this exchange took place. At that point I realised he would probably have been on the south coast waiting to embark for Portugal with Sir Arthur Wellesley.

Once I’d worked that out, I couldn’t resist composing a typical Van Daan response to this situation. It’s very silly, but  I’ve recently rediscovered it and thought I’d share it for the benefit of those of you who enjoy a good rant from the commander of the 110th. Or for anybody who still sniggers at jokes about toilets.

1867 Map of Defences around Dungeness

Romney Marsh has always been vulnerable to attack from across the Channel and with the threat of invasion from Napoleon, Britain began planning a number of defensive measures across Romney Marsh. These included the building of the Royal Military Canal, Martello Towers and a number of gun batteries and forts on the coast at Dungeness and Lydd-on-Sea. The Martello Towers covered the  coast as far as St Mary’s Bay which left the Dungeness peninsular vulnerable to attack. Four batteries were built and these were were supported by a redoubt at Dungeness Point itself.

For clarity, the original letters found in the archive are in italics. The rest, I made up.

Grand Redoubt, Dungeness, 18 April 1809

To Captain Jones, Barrack Master

Sir,

I do hereby certify that the whole of the Privys at this Redoubt wants emptying, and do therefore require you to cause the same to be done with as little delay as possible.

Capt Kynaston, Commanding the Flint Militia

Barrack Office, 9 May, 1809

The Privies to be emptied and the Glass replaced…Mr Jones (Barrack Master) is desired in future to put proper headings and certificates to his Estimates as Emptying Privies cannot be Repairs to Buildings.

By order of the Board, Fred. Mackenzie Esq.

Heretofore Emptying of Privies was always included with Repairs to Buildings

 

From Captain Jones, 25 May 1809

Emptying Privies is not a business that requires any uncommon hurry, it is the usual Monthly Business…

From Major Paul van Daan, Oporto, 1 June 1809

Dear Captain Jones

Thank you for copying your letter on the matter of the barracks privies. It thoroughly brightened a wet Tuesday in Braga, I must say, I wasn’t expecting it.

It isn’t clear to me exactly what you’re expecting me to do about your privies from Portugal, but since you’ve been kind enough to invite my comments, let me be very precise.

As you are aware, Sir Arthur Wellesley sent me on a tour of inspection of several of the fortifications along the south coast while waiting to embark my battalion to Portugal. I have no idea why he did so, other than to give me something to do, since as far as I’m aware he has no responsibility for these defences and no earthly right to interfere with the running of them. This has never stopped him before and will not stop him in the future.

The inspection was fairly memorable for a number of reasons, but the one that really stands out for me was the stench arising from the privies of the Grand Redoubt at Dungeness. I could smell it as I rode in and I rather imagine that the townspeople of Rye were able to smell it on a daily basis as well; it carried for miles.

What your usual arrangements for getting the privies emptied might be, I neither know nor care. It appears that applying to the Board under the wrong heading could have something to do with the delay according to Mr Frederick Mackenzie’s correspondence. If this was indeed the case, you may reassure yourself that it is unlikely to occur again since I have explained in considerable detail to Mr Mackenzie that he may enter that Estimate under any bloody heading he likes, including Shit Shovelling, for all I care, as long as it gets done in a regular and timely manner. I am fairly sure Mr Mackenzie now understands that if I come back to England to find that those poor bastards manning that redoubt are still having to live with that smell because of his petty, bureaucratic, small-minded need to get the paperwork right, he is going to end up with a wagonload of militia turds on his doorstep under the heading of Just Desserts the following morning.

While Mr Mackenzie is a problem in himself, the fact remains that Captain Kynaston told you those privies were a disgrace on 18th April and it took you until 13th May to get them emptied. That is approximately 25 days too long. You’ve a tool shed and some spades and if you can’t get the contractor out in a timely manner, it is your duty as Barrack-Master to get the job done however you can. You have a collection of perfectly able-bodied men there, and presumably if they’re capable of filling the privies, they’re capable of emptying them as well. Start with the ones who failed my kit and uniform inspection, I gave you a list of them, and there were enough of them to keep those privies fit to dine out of, they were a disgrace.

I sincerely hope you have no further problems with this matter, but in case you do, be assured that I’ve written not only to your commanding officer, but to Major-General Whetham reporting on the conditions I found there, so I rather imagine you’ll be subjected to more regular inspections in the future. I do hope so for the health and well-being of the men you command.

Finally, I refer to your comment suggesting that Emptying Privies is not a business that requires any uncommon hurry. That’s an interesting perspective, and not one I share. Every single aspect of your duty as Barrack-Master requires uncommon hurry if it affects the men who will be expected to defend their country against a French invasion. I’ve no idea when I’ll be back in England, but when I am, I intend to travel via Dungeness and if I find those privies in the condition they were when I visited last month, you are going to end up head first in the worst of them with your boots waving in the air, and we’ll see how long any of your men take to haul you out.

Don’t bother me with this nonsense again, there’s a war on.

Respectfully yours

Major Paul van Daan

110th Infantry.

The Battle of Tenerife (Comedy version)

The Battle of Tenerife, (Comedy Version) was written sitting by a pool in Tenerife last year. For several years, various historian friends and I have occasionally lightened the mood of researching and writing about some of the darker moments of history by writing sketches about how things might really have happened on the day.

In real life, these were battles and things went wrong and men died and there is no intention to forget this. I write about that aspect in my novels. On the other hand, sometimes, reading about and researching a particular military episode, I find myself thinking just….why? How? Who even thought this was a good idea? And I’m sure that there were men out there at the time, who were thinking pretty much the same thing. 

I knew nothing about the Battle of Tenerife other than the fact that Nelson lost his arm there, until I visited Santa Cruz last year and toured the various sites and museums. This sketch is the result of my bewilderment.

Today is the anniversary of the victory at Cape St Vincent. A naval historian friend has been very cross that the shops are full of Valentines Day cards, with not one card celebrating this famous battle. I didn’t have time to write anything about Cape St Vincent, so I thought I’d resurrect this instead, in honour of Admiral Jervis who was probably glad he didnt go to Santa Cruz de Tenerife in person.

Please enjoy, and remember that Nelson went on to far greater things…

 

Somewhere at Sea, 1797…
Admiral Jervis is still celebrating his memorable victory at Cape St Vincent. He’s also a bit cross about Cadiz not working out quite so well and those pesky Spanish whizzing treasure ships around right under his nose. The sailors are getting restive. The Admiral is feeling the pressure. It’s Saturday night, a few drinks in the Admiral’s dining cabin and Jervis has had enough…
Jervis: What we need is a win. A nice little win. No, a nice big win. Big fat hairy prizes. Loadsa money…”
Captain: I say, Admiral, are you all right? Good wine, this. Strong, though. Maybe we should…
Jervis: Pour another one. A big one. Cadiz was a stupid idea anyway. Who goes there? Nobody. Nothing to see, nothing to do. We want somewhere nice. Somewhere sunny. Somewhere popular, full of treasure ships and nice forts we can blow up. We want….I know – Tenerife!
Captain: Tenerife, sir? Are you sure? I mean, why?
Jervis: Lovely place. Great for holidays. Should be British. Don’t argue with me and pour another glass. Now, who shall we send? I know! Whatshisname! You know. Little fella with the funny hair and squeaky voice.
Captain: Do you mean Admiral Nelson, sir?
Jervis: Nelson. That’s the one. Send him a message, will you? Now, anybody for charades?
Portrait of Nelson by Healy, George Peter Alexander (Wikimedia Commons)

HMS Theseus, July 1797

Nelson: Well here we are, chaps. Almost at Santa Cruz de Tenerife, and a very fine day for it. Now, I’ve got my plan of attack all worked out and if everybody does exactly as I say, it will all go swimmingly.
Troubridge: I hope not, Admiral.
Nelson: What the devil do you mean, Troubridge?
Troubridge: Swimmingly, sir. Swimming not really the idea here, what?
Nelson: Was that a joke, Troubridge?
Troubridge: Er – yes, sir.
Nelson: Not funny. Not even slightly. If there are jokes to be made, I’ll make them. I’m the Admiral. All jokes should be run past me, clear?
Troubridge: Yes, sir.
Nelson: Now, here’s the plan. Troubridge, you’ll lead a night time landing. The frigates will approach the shore stealthily and disembark troops then attack the Spanish batteries north east of the harbour. Crompton, you’ll open mortar fire on the city. My ships of the line will enter the harbour at break of dawn, gloriously, seize the Spanish merchant ships and win the day.
Troubridge: Gloriously.
Nelson: That’s me. I’m going in gloriously, you’re going in stealthily. Is that clear?
Troubridge: Do they know we’re coming, sir?
Nelson: Don’t be an ass, Troubridge, it wouldn’t be stealthy if they knew we were coming, would it?
Troubridge: No, sir. It’s just there are those mountains and cliffs. They’re pretty high, you can see them for miles. And I sort of think maybe they can see us coming for miles.
Nelson: Mountains? Cliffs? What nonsense, I see no mountains or cliffs. Anyway, these are the Spanish. Admiral Jervis assures me they’re hopeless. Haven’t a clue. Totally disorganised. No, stealth is the word here. Followed by glory. It’ll be no trouble.
Troubridge: Glad to hear it, sir.
Nelson: Oh, and by the way, I sent a note to the Spanish authorities demanding the surrender of all Spanish cargo, and threatening the destruction of the city. That’ll show them.
Troubridge: Very stealthy, sir.
20 July aboard the Theseus
Nelson: Right, chaps, final plans. Two phases to the attack. 1000 seamen and marines will land at Valle Seco beach and surround and capture Fort Paso Alto. I’m sure they’ll surrender immediately but if by some remote chance they don’t, the landing party will march on the port and attack.
Troubridge: Stealthily, sir?
Nelson: Exactly, Captain. Everybody ready? Good. Let’s go get ‘em, boys. I’d stay to chat but I need to pop off and write my glorious victory speech along with the prayer I’m going to say before going into battle.
Hood: You write out your prayers, Admiral?
Nelson: Not all of them, Hood, only the ones the newspapers might want to publish. Otherwise the fools might get it wrong.
The attack, Part 1
Troubridge: Right, men, we’re off. 23 boats aiming for the Bufadero cliff, the other 16 head straight for the city. Let’s go.
Marine 1: Huzzah, we’re off! We’ll show those Spaniards.
Marine 2: Great prize money out of this. Good job too, I could do with new trousers.These make me look fat.
Marine 3: Bollocks, Smithy, your gut makes you look fat. What’s going on?
Marine 1: Not much, by the looks of it. We’re getting nowhere here. These currents are impossible.
Marine 3: Row harder, lads. We can do it.
Marine 2: Er…is that gunfire I can hear? From the city?
Marine 3: Oh bugger.
Troubridge: Back to the ships, lads. Row for your lives, they’re sinking our boats. Some bloody stealth attack this was…
Interlude, aboard the Theseus
Troubridge: It was impossible, Admiral. The tides were against us, the city guns were sinking our boats and we seemed to get no help from our ships.
Pointed silence
Nelson: Well what help could we give, Captain? The big ships can’t get close enough, the frigates can, but their guns can’t fire high enough to hit the city, the mortar is doing no good at all and the carronades are useless in this situation. We did the best we could.
Troubridge: What did you do, sir?
Nelson: We cheered you on. We supported you. I even said a prayer. I’ve got a copy of it if you want one.
Troubridge: Thank you, Admiral, that’s a big help.
Nelson: I knew you’d appreciate it. Right, time for another attempt. I’ve got the perfect plan this time, it can’t fail.
Troubridge: Like the last one then.
Nelson: Button it, Captain. This time we’ll get the boats to tow the frigates in, so they can anchor close to the cliffs. That way we’ll get past the currents and land men and equipment. After that it’ll be a piece of cake. Admiral Jervis is going to be so pleased, I can’t wait to tell him.
The Attack, part 2
Troubridge: Right, we’ve landed. Thank God for that, bit hairy with those guns firing on us. Right, Crompton, Thompson, let’s get this artillery moving and into place.
Crompton: How, sir?
Troubridge: Well I don’t know, I’m not a soldier or a marine. How do we usually move guns?
Thompson: Horses, sir. Or mules, in an emergency.
Troubridge: This is an emergency.
Crompton: Didn’t Admiral Nelson give any orders about this, sir?
Troubridge: No. But it’s all right, Captain Jackson of the marines will know. Where the devil is he?
Thompson: Er – still at sea, sir. Saw half the boats going off in that direction and he was in one of them.
Troubridge: What the devil is in that direction?
Thompson: Not much that I know of, sir. But then I didn’t know what was in this direction either. I don’t think any of the officers knew where we were going.
Troubridge: For God’s sake, didn’t someone tell them they were going the wrong way?
Crompton: Orders were to land in complete silence, sir, otherwise I’d have yelled. Because of stealth.
Troubridge: Didn’t anybody do anything?
Thompson: We waved, sir. And jumped up and down.
Troubridge: And?
Crompton: I think a couple of them waved back, sir. Hard to tell in the dark. But cheer up,we were very stealthy.
Shell lands close by them on the beach
Troubridge: Ha bloody ha, Captain, clearly they’ve no idea we’re here. Take cover!
July 23, aboard the Theseus
Nelson: Troubridge, I have had enough! Two days, God knows how many landings and withdrawals, half the boats spent the night wandering around aimlessly in circles and the rest of you couldn’t even make it off the beaches. This is not how it was meant to go! Admiral Jervis assured me it would be easy!
Troubridge: Anybody know if Admiral Jervis has actually been to Santa Cruz, sir?
Nelson: Don’t get funny with me, Captain. Right, new orders. Now that all the troops are back aboard, I’m sending the three frigates past that beach and I want them to fire at those big cliffs.
Troubridge: At the cliffs, sir? Any particular reason?
Nelson: They keep shooting at us, Captain
Troubridge: From the forts, sir. Which we can’t reach
Nelson: There might be some defenders up there
Troubridge: We haven’t seen any, sir.
Nelson: Shut up, Troubridge. I’m as mad as a wet hen and I just want to shoot something.
Troubridge: I’ll send the signal then, sir
Later that day, aboard the Theseus, Nelson has called a meeting of all his captains…
Nelson: Right, I feel a bit better now. By gum, those guns did some damage to those cliffs. And now I’ve worked out what I’ve been doing wrong. I’ve been trying to run this campaign from behind the scenes. It’s time I stepped up and got involved personally. I’m leading the attack. No more Admiral Nice Guy. Once they see me in the boats they’ll know we mean business.
Miller: Sir, is that a good idea? I mean you don’t have much experience of fighting on land, and…
Nelson: Nonsense, how hard can it be?. Have you seen some of the idiots who lead the army, they don’t even have to pass an examination to get in? We’ll attack the San Cristobal fort directly and put a stop to this nonsense. Assemble the troops. I’ll be in the lead boat, when they see me the men will scent victory! Troubrige, Miller, Hood, Waller and Thompson you’ll lead the other boats. Huzzah!
Troubrige, Miller, Hood, Waller and Thompson (Gloomily): Huzzah.
10.30pm, 24 July, in the boats
Nelson: Cloth-padded oars to keep the noise down. Genius, eh, Nesbit? Now this is what I call stealth. Should have done this right from the start, never wise to delegate too much. Heard that from an army chap called Wellesley I ran into one day. He was definite that you can’t leave anything to anybody else if you want it done properly and I’m beginning to think the man had a point. They won’t see us coming, they’ll have no idea and we’ll be upon them before…what was that?
Nesbit: Warning shot, sir, from that frigate. I think they know we’re coming.
Nelson: Well row faster, for God’s sake!
Nesbit: Going as fast as we can, Admiral. Winds and tides are against us. You remember Captain Troubridge mentioned the winds and tides?
Suddenly a hail of cannonballs and musket bullets from the batteries of Paso Alto, San Miguel, San Antonio and San Pedro begins to rain down on the British boats
Nelson: Shoot back! Fire! Why is nobody shooting back, for God’s sake?
Nesbit: Powder’s wet, sir, seawater. Nobody can fire.
Nelson: Never mind! Once we’ve landed and they see our brave lads advancing up into the town, they’ll turn and run. Admiral Jarvis assured me…oh F**k.
La Consolación convent, Santa Cruz de Tenerife
Troubridge: Right, we’re in.
Hood: But we can’t get out
Troubridge: Any news of the rest of the troops?
Hood: Not good, sir. A lot of the boats were hit and the Fox was sunk. A lot of casualties on the beach. Bowen managed to spike some of the guns and rushed the town but he and his men were cut down by grapeshot. Most of the troops had to retreat. And there’s worse news. Admiral Nelson was wounded in the boat and had to be rowed back to the Theseus. I am sorry.
Troubridge: So the Admiral isn’t able to give any more orders?
Hood: I don’t think so.
Troubridge: Well cheer up, Hood. We might get out of this alive after all. Right, send a message to Gutierrez demanding the surrender of the San Jose or we will burn the town.
Two hours later
Hood: There’s a reply from General Gutierrez, Captain.
Troubridge: What does he say?
Hood: I don’t know that word. Anybody here speak Spanish?
Troubridge: Don’t bother, Hood, I know that word. What’s that noise…oh bloody hell. Take cover, everybody!
One hour later
Hood: Good news, Captain. We’ve got a message from the fleet. Admiral Nelson has survived the amputation of his arm and is sitting up and able to give orders again.
Troubridge: Bugger.
Hood: Also bad news. The Spanish have blockaded the pier so we can’t escape. Admiral Nelson tried to send 15 boats with reinforcements but they were driven back with the loss of 3 boats.
Troubridge: Oh stuff it, I’ve had enough. Send another message, Hood. In fact take it yourself. Find out what Gutierrez will accept in terms of surrender and let’s get out of here.
Some time later, somewhere in England, debriefing meeting
Jervis: So you surrendered to the Spanish, Nelson?
Nelson: Not in so many words, Admiral. Technically, Troubridge did. I was disappointed. If only I’d not been wounded, I’m sure we would have prevailed.
Jervis: What terms?
Nelson: Very generous, I thought. Very good chap, Gutierrez, very gentlemanly. Our men were allowed to return to their ships with full military honours as long as Hood undertook not to burn the town, or make any further attacks on Tenerife or the Canary Islands. And he lent us two schooners to help us on the way back, we were a bit short with so many being shot up and sunk. As a matter of fact I sent a thank you letter to Gutiérrez along with some beer and cheese. I got a very nice reply with some Spanish wine and cheese. Dreadful stuff but he meant well.
Jervis: Well I’m disappointed, Admiral. In fact, I’m more than a bit cross. When you think of my own glorious achievements, and you couldn’t even manage a smelly little port in the Canary Islands. Still, I suppose every man deserves a second chance. How do you fancy having another crack at it when you’re fully recovered?
Nelson: Another crack?
Jervis: Yes.
Nelson: At Santa Cruz?
Jervis: Yes.
Nelson: Tenerife?
Jervis: I can tell you’re following my train of thought here
Nelson: No
Jervis: No?
Nelson: No
Jervis: Are you sure?
Nelson: Admiral, I would rather lead a column of ships into a hail of broadside fire from the ships of two navies in a full scale sea battle than go back to that hell hole again.
Jervis: Oh all right, I get the point. Who needs Tenerife anyway, leave it to the Spanish. And I suppose even with your defeatist attitude we can find you something else to do…

 

WordPress Appliance - Powered by TurnKey Linux