History of the Royal Regiment of Artillery, Vol. 1. Duncan Francis
had not yet landed at Greenwich; there was agitation and conspiracy among the adherents of the Stuarts, and Scotland was simmering with rebellion. Then did the fearful Privy Council send letter after letter to the Ordnance urging them to find arms for 10,000 men for Scotland, or for 5000, or even for 4000; but from their diminished stores even this small body could with difficulty be armed. A train of artillery was ordered to march, and could not: everything was starved, and in chaos; and its commander, Albert Borgard, wrote, "Things are in such confusion as cannot be described." Orders were sent to man and defend Fort William, the now desolate scene of John Murray's nineteen years; and General Maitland, on reaching it, reported that "the parapets want repairing: there are no palisadoes; without an engineer to help me, I can but make the best of a bad bargain." He had to advance the money himself: "Who pays me," he wrote, "I know not." By next messenger he asked for a little gunpowder, a few spades, pickaxes, and wheelbarrows, all rather useful articles in a fortification, but which had vanished under the breath of economy. There were no gunners, he wrote, to work the guns; and he requested that the hand-grenades which were coming from Edinburgh might be filled and fitted with fuzes before they should be sent to him, "for we have none here that understand this matter well." Of a truth, John Murray had his revenge!
The principal gate of the fortress was so rotten and shattered that it could not be made use of, and was of no defence at all. There never had been any gate, the General wrote, to the port of the ravelin; and unless the platform could be renewed, it would be impossible to work the guns. "And," he adds in a well-rounded period, "the old timber houses in which the officers of the Garrison are lodged, and also the old timber chapell, are all in such a shattered pitifull condition, that neither the first can be lodged in one, nor the Garrison attend divine service in the other without being exposed to the inconvenience of all weathers."
Nor was General Maitland singular. From Dumbarton Castle Lord Glencairn wrote to the Board, "We not only want in a manner everything, but we have not so much as a boat. And, besides, the Garrison wants near four months' pay." From Carlisle the Governor wrote that there were only four barrels of powder in the garrison, a deficiency of every species of stores, and only four gunners, "three of which are superannuated." Most of the gun-carriages were unserviceable, and the platforms wanted repairing. There was haste and panic at Portsmouth, as empty stores and unarmed ships warned the Board what work there was before them. And from Chester, Mr. Asheton, the zealous governor just appointed, reported, "The guns are all here, but not the carriages, so that the stores, &c., would be of service – not prejudice – to an enemy." The only men there who were capable of doing any work were forty invalids; and he therefore begged for assistance in men and stores, "in order" he wrote, "that I may be capable of doing my country service by maintaining the rights of our gracious Sovereign King George against all Popish Pretenders whatsoever."
As the guns of the Tower blazed out their welcome to the King, the smoke must have clouded over such an accumulation of testimony in the Ordnance offices hard by, proving that there may be an economy which is no economy at all, as might almost have penetrated the intelligence of a Board. This period in the history of the Ordnance is unsurpassed, even by the many blundering times which, in the course of these volumes, we shall have to examine, down to that day in the year of grace 1855 when, "from the first Cabinet at which Lord Palmerston ever sat as Premier, the Secretary at War brought home half a sheet of paper, containing a memorandum that the Ordnance – one of the oldest Constitutional departments of the Monarchy … was to be abolished."1
In the early days of the Ordnance Board, its relations with the navy were more intimate than in later years. The gunners of the ships were under its control, and had to answer to it for the expenditure of their stores. In this particular, as in most details of checking and audit, the Board was stern to a degree, and not unfrequently unreasonable. In 1712, the captain of a man-of-war, sent to Newfoundland in charge of a convoy, found the English inhabitants of the Island in a state of great danger and uneasiness, and almost unprotected. At their urgent request, he left with them much of his ordnance and stores before he returned to England. With the promptitude which characterized the Board's action towards any one who dared to think for himself, it refused to pass the captain's or gunner's accounts, nor would it authorize them to draw their pay. Remonstrance was useless; explanations were unattended to: the lesson had to be taught to its subordinates, however harshly and idiotically, that freewill did not belong to them, and that to assume any responsibility was to commit a grievous sin. It actually required a petition to the Queen and the Treasury before the unhappy men could get a hearing, and, as a natural consequence, an approval and confirmation of their conduct.
The arming of all men-of-war belonged to the Ordnance; indeed, the office was created for the Navy, although, in course of time, Army details almost entirely monopolized it. Although obliged to act on the requisitions of the Lord High Admiral, their control in their own details, and over the gunners of the ship as regarded their stores, was unfettered. The repairing of the ships, and to a considerable extent their internal fittings, were part of the Board's duties; but it is to be hoped that the technical knowledge of some of their officials exceeded that possessed by the Masters-General. A letter is extant from one of these distinguished individuals, written on board the 'Katherine' yacht, in 1682, to his loving friends, the principal officers of the Ordnance. "I desire" he wrote, "you would give Mr. Young notice to proceed no further in making ye hangings for ye great bedstead in ye lower room in ye Katherine yacht, till ye have directions from me."
But the Naval branch of the Board's duties is beyond the province of the present work. Of the Military branch much will be better described in the chapters concerning the old Artillery trains, the Royal Military Academy, and in the general narrative of the Royal Artillery's existence as a regiment. A few words, however, may be said here with reference to their civil duties, once of vast importance, but, with the naval branch, swallowed up, like the fat kine of Pharaoh's dream, by the military demands which were constantly on the increase, and were fostered by the military predilections of the Masters and Lieutenants-General.
The civil duties have been well and clearly defined by Clode in his 'Military Forces of the Crown,' vol. ii. He divides into duties – 1. As to Stores; 2. As Landowners; 3. As to the Survey of the United Kingdom; 4. As to Defensive Works; 5. As to Contracts; and 6. As to Manufacturing Establishments.
Of the first of these it may be said that their system was excellent. Periodical remains were taken (the oldest extant being dated April, 1559), and a system of issues and receipts was in force which could hardly be improved upon.
In their capacity as Landowners, the members of the Board were good and cautious stewards; but as buyers of land, their characteristic crops up of thinking but little of other men's feelings or convenience. Perhaps their line of action in this respect can be best illustrated by an anecdote which comes down over many years in the shape of an indignant and yet pitiful remonstrance. It was in good Queen Anne's time, and the Board had formed a scheme for fortifying Portsmouth. They appointed Commissioners to arrange the situation of the various works, and to come to terms with the landowners. These gentlemen did their duty; and, among others, one James Dixon was warned that some land on which he had recently built a brewhouse would be required for the Board's purposes. A jury was empanelled, and assessed the value of the whole at 4000l. When James Dixon built his brewhouse, he had borrowed money on mortgage: the interest would, he believed, be easily paid, and the principal of the debt gradually reduced by the earnings of the brewery. But after the jury sat, not a drop of beer was brewed: no orders could be taken, with the fear hanging over him that he must turn out at any moment; nor could he introduce additional improvements or fixtures after the assessment had been made, as he would never receive a farthing for them over the first valuation. Little knowing the admirable system of official management in which an English department excels, he sat waiting for the purchase-money. One month passed after another: Christmas came, and yet another, and another, and the only knocks at James Dixon's door were from the angry creditor demanding his money. At last, after waiting four years, – the grey hairs thickening on the unhappy brewer's head, – the knock of a lawyer's writ came; and before the Master of the Rolls his miserable presence and story were alike demanded. The narrative ends abruptly with a petition from him for six months' grace. Even then hope was not dead in him; and he babbled in his prayer that "he was in hopes by this time
Clode.