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The Extraordinary Military Career of John Shipp

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The Extraordinary Military Career of John Shipp
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Author(s): John Shipp
Date Published: 2010/06
Page Count: 304
Softcover ISBN-13: 978-0-85706-225-3
Hardcover ISBN-13: 978-0-85706-226-0

The entertaining memoirs of a British soldier of the empire

As the eighteenth century turned to the nineteenth the rise of Napoleon and the First Empire of France engaged British military prowess on land and sea. Study of the British Army of the time focuses, inevitably, on its struggles with the French and especially upon the conflict in the Iberian Peninsula. Yet this was also a time when the rapid expansion of the British Empire was inexorably turning the map of the world 'red' and there were military adventures to be had in many lands. John Shipp, the author of this well regarded military memoir, was engaged in one of the Kaffir—or Caffre, as he terms them—Wars in early 19th century South Africa before being sent to India. There Lake and Wellesley, the future Wellington, fought hard won battles with small, mixed armies of British regiments and the native troops of the Honourable East India Company, against the dominant martial races of India. Shipp joined the 22nd (Cheshire) Regiment of Foot and as a sergeant led the forlorn hope at the storming of Bhurtpore—one of the most formidable of the Mahratta fortresses—and on two other occasions. He served in several other regiments, was promoted and then sold his commission before working his way up again in the cavalry. Much of his career was with the 87th Regiment of Foot, and Shipp regales us with many colourful anecdotes about the exploits of his Irish comrades. Shipp's story is entertainingly and often whimsically recounted by the author who reveals himself, perhaps inadvertently, to be something of a likeable rogue. His easy going literary style draws the reader to the heart of his world and his prose is full of detail, dialogue and the atmosphere of the time and place as he takes us with him on campaign and into battle. Available in soft cover and hard back with dust jacket.

The storming party consisted of about seven hundred men, composed of two companies of his majesty’s 22nd regiment, two of the Company’s European regiments, and the rest native troops, the whole under the command of Colonel Ball, a brave old hero, but so feeble, that he was obliged to be pushed up the track of glory. The two flank companies to which I belonged led the column. Sergeant Bury, of the Grenadier company, headed the foremost; but being wounded at the moment, he was compelled to leave the battery. I volunteered to take his place. The enemy had a strong entrenchment between our batteries and the breach, with innumerable guns, so placed as to have a cross fire on the storming party. However, we soon fought our way through their entrenchments, our gallant captain (Lindsay) cheering, and boldly leading us on. Crossing these trenches, this brave officer was cut with a spear in the arm, and also received a severe wound from a sabre; but his gallantry and zeal were so great, that he could not be prevailed upon to retire from the scene of action. A little on our right I saw some of the enemy point a gun at us.<br> Immediately, with three or four comrades, I rushed out to spike it; for which purpose, I was in the act of searching for the touchhole, to put a nail in it, when one of the enemy’s golundauze (artillery-men) fired the gun off, and I was thrown on my back in the trench, and the same man was in the act of cutting me to pieces, when a grenadier of our company, named Shears, shot him, and I once more escaped.<br> Fortunately for us, the whole of the enemy’s great guns were elevated too much, owing to which the shots passed over our heads. If they had been properly directed, we must have been annihilated to a man. Within fifty or sixty paces from the breach, I received a matchlock ball in the head, which dropped me to the ground, the blood flowing profusely. When I came a little to myself from the stun, I found myself impelled onward by one of our companies, who were close together, and running stooping, to avoid the shots, which, being near the breach, were uncomfortably thick; but we reached, and soon planted the British flag on the summit of the bastion which was breached. Our opponents fought hard to resist our entrance, throwing immense stones, pieces of trees, stink-pots, bundles of straw set on fire, spears, large shots, &c.; but resistance was in vain: we were determined to conquer. In spite of this laudable resolution, however, we found some hard work cut out for us on making good our ascent. The streets in the fort were narrow, running across each other, and every ten yards guns were placed, for the purpose of raking the whole streets. Added to this, many of the enemy had got into high houses, in which there were loop-holes, from which they could fire down upon us, without the possibility of our getting at them. Near the corner of a street, in a kind of nook, I saw our dear Captain Lindsay attacked by five or six of the enemy. He was on one knee, and quite exhausted, having lost much blood from his former wounds; but, to our great joy, we were just in time to save him, and punish some of his assailants. From the intricacy of the place, we were afraid of shooting our own men, and were therefore obliged to keep pretty close together. At midnight I again met Captain Lindsay, clearing one of the streets, when he asked me how I felt myself. I complained of a wound in my side, but said that I could find no hole; but this was not a time for talking. In turning sharp down a street rather larger than those we had cleared, we met a column of the enemy, with a person of rank in a palanquin. We soon stopped his black highness; and, to ascertain who was inside the palanquin, which was an open one, I, with several others, probed our way with our bayonets, when a tremendous fat zemindar (an officer) roared out most lustily, and began to show fight. He fired a matchlock at me, which went through the wing of my coat, but did not touch my person. Before I could retaliate, my comrades had finished him, and we then commenced at the column; but I took from the palanquin the gun which had nearly robbed me of life. It was like the barrel of a gun, about two feet long, with a round handle; at the handle end was a sharp hatchet; at the other extremity a sharp hook. This extraordinary instrument I presented to the commander-in-chief; but he refused the present, saying it was my trophy. His lordship was afterwards prevailed on to purchase it, at the price of two hundred rupees. We at this time got information that the five companies which had deserted from the Honourable Colonel Monson, in his masterly retreat from Jeypore, were standing, dressed in the full uniform they deserted in, outside the principal gate of the fort, with their arms ordered, without apparently making any resistance, and frequently crying out, “Englishmen, Englishmen, pray do not kill us; for God’s sake, do not kill us.” As these supplications proceeded rather from fear than from penitence for the crime they had been guilty of—that of deserting to an enemy—these men could expect no mercy. We had positive orders to give them no quarter, and they were most of them shot.<br>
About three o’clock, when I was completely tired and done up, I took my station under the gable end of a brick building, and began to examine the extent of my wounds. The one on the head was a bad one, having touched the skull; it was about two inches long, and one broad, and I was a little alarmed for the consequences. The wound which I supposed I had received in the side, was nothing more than the wind of a cannon-ball, which it was thought must have passed between my arm and side. It was quite black, and much swollen, and on its margin there appeared red streaks, which convinced the doctors that it was caused as before stated. I felt it for months afterwards. The wound in my head had been so long exposed to the night air, that, on examination by the medical gentlemen, it was pronounced to be a dangerous one; but, with an excellent constitution, and youth on my side, I soon recovered. <br>

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We could now see the enemy, like ants, creeping and lurking about, and busily engaged in secreting themselves behind trees and stones. I presumed to recommend to the captain of the light company, that our forming in a body would bring on us a destructive fire, and that we had better fight them on their own system, which was extending, and every man availing himself of tree or stone, and a rest for his piece. This was sure to be attended with success; and, however brave a man may be, he never ought to be above advice. Our captain readily saw the danger that would attend our forming, and therefore immediately sounded the extend; then the advance; and the fighting soon became warm on both sides. The enemy maintained their ground and fought manfully. I hate a runaway foe; you have no credit for beating them. Those we were now dealing with were no flinchers; but, on the contrary, I never saw more steadiness or more bravery exhibited by any set of men in my life. Run they would not; and of death they seemed to have no fear, though their comrades were falling thick around them, for we were so near that every shot told. At last some of their men began to give way; and, as we were ascending rapidly, their commander, or one of their principal officers, attempted to rally them. Having succeeded in this attempt for the moment, the said officer had the impudence to attack and put his majesty’s liege subject, John Shipp, ensign on full pay, and in the full vigour of his life and manhood, in bodily fear, on the king’s high hill of Muckwanpore, on the afternoon of—I now forget the date, he so frightened me. He was a strong, powerful man, protected by two shields, one tied round his waist, and hanging over his thighs as low as his knees, and the other on the left arm, much larger than the one round his waist. From this gentleman there was no escape; and, fortunately for me, I had my old twenty-fourther with me, which I had two or three days before put in good shaving order. With this I was obliged to act on the defensive, till I could catch my formidable opponent off his guard. He cut, I guarded; he thrust, I parried; until he became aggravated, and set to work with that impetuosity and determination pretty generally understood by the phrase “hammer and tongs;” in the course of which he nearly cut my poor twenty-fourther in pieces. At last I found he was winded; but I could see nothing of the fellow, except his black face peeping above one shield, and his feet under the other; so I thought I would give him a cut five across his lower extremities; but he would not stand still a moment; he cut as many capers as a French dancing-master, till I was quite out of patience with his folly. I did not like to quit my man; so I tried his other extremities; but he would not stand still, all I could do. At length, I made a feint at his toes, to cut them; down went his shield from his face, to save his legs; up went the edge of my sword smack under his chin; in endeavouring to get away from which, he threw his head back, which nearly tumbled off, and down he fell; and I assure you, reader, I was not sorry for it, for he was a most unsociable neighbour. I don’t know whether I had a right or not, but I took the liberty of taking his sword, gold crescent, turban-chain, and large shield. The latter I sported on my left arm during the action, and it was fortunate for me that I did, for I found that the shield was ball-proof, and I should have been severely wounded, had I been deprived of this trophy. Our gallant captain fought like one of the old Fogs, and his men, as I had been told, were indeed “divels to fight.” The very noise they made would have frightened old Harry himself.
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