"Though my sorrow has been silent..."
Lt-Col Henry Cadogan
Something for Remembrance Day...
Anyone who had read either this or nodbear’s journal will be familiar with the name George Cadogan, erstwhile Boy, First Class of HMS Indefatigable. George was the eighth of nine sons, several of whom made their mark in both naval and military service, and none more so than George’s nearest brother in age, the Hon Henry Cadogan. Lieutenant-Colonel Henry Cadogan had a distinguished military career during the Peninsular War where he led the 71st Regiment of Foot to several notable victories. The 71st was a Scottish regiment composed of Highlanders from the great clans lands of Macleod and Mackenzie, along with Lowlanders from Glasgow.
In his book The Cadogan’s at War Robert Pearman quotes an extraordinary letter written by Henry to his brother-in-law Gerald Wellesley following the bloody battle of Fuentes de Onoro in 1811. In a long and familiar letter Henry reflects on living and dying a soldier and the profound impact that the death of a comrade, James Pulteney, has had upon him.
2nd July, Camp near Elvas
Your letter of 1st July gave me sincere pleasure. I assure you my dearest Gerald that you don’t mistake me when you suppose I must be gratified by the applause and approbation of those I love and I am indeed repaid by any exertion or zeal I may have shown in this interesting cause and against the infernal enemies that oppose it, by the public notice that has already been taken of my conduct. There is no reflection however that gives me such pleasure as that this conduct has been instrumental in bringing George his ship and affecting by this means a permanent good to another.
I most heartily rejoice that you give such a good account of your self and your health my dear friend. May God preserve you for many years. You have objects to live for while I have none of the same tender interest and therefore my life is less worth preserving either for myself or others.
I have always thought and still more and more do I think that the man who at any time in life is carried off in the field of battle has lived long enough and died most gloriously. I would not perhaps think so if I had any ties that made life more valuable to me than it is at present - at the same time as long as I am a soldier I trust these feelings will never be altered. Certainly the greatest gratification in life is the thought that one may be remembered and regretted in such a death and from the false reports that were lately in circulation about me I have had a delightful proof that this would be my case.
Is it not the highest test of merit and the greatest of all comforts for those who loved James Pulteney, that his memory is so respected, his fate so universally lamented as his has been! Alas! I have been sensibly affected at this loss, which has at once deprived me of the person I loved almost better than any other, and of all the future prospects I had formed of amusement and happiness. Though my sorrow has been silent, I do assure you my dear Gerald that no event in my life ever gave me more uneasiness and deep regret. This is a subject that has so fastened upon me, that I cannot help mixing it up into my thoughts as I have communicated them to paper in the other pages. So you must allow for the feelings I write under and don’t for Heaven’s sake let them be shown to others who are less able than yourself to understand them.
I have received letters from Louisa and Charlotte, as well as many other people of late which have given me such gratification. Considering how little was said by Lord Wellington about my conduct, it is deeply gratifying to think that others have done me complete justice.
You will have heard that the enemy has been dispersed these last five days towards Seville and Alcantara. The allied camp is expected to break up and go into Cantonments of this neighbourhood shortly. The future planning of the campaign must be uncertain, but all looks well for our cause. Lord Wellington’s friendship to me is very great and tends to make this service doubly enjoyable. I wrote to Louisa a note lately to send me some snuff handkerchiefs.
I will write to Charlotte very soon. All things will come right I think. The Children will accept. Lord Wellington seems to expect Lord P. in this country. God bless you all.
James Pulteney I take to be General Sir James Murray Pulteney who died in 1811 from injuries caused by the explosion of a powder flask. Sir James was a Scottish soldier and politician who assumed the name Pulteney when he married Henriette Laura Pulteney, 1st Baroness Bath in 1794. Sir James was 25 years older than Henry Cadogan and I am unclear at this stage whether they ever served in the same regiment.
Two years after the above letter was written, Henry Cadogan gained his wish when he died bravely leading the 71st at the battle of Vittoria. Wellington wrote in his despatch from the battle:
“I am concerned to report that Lieutenant-Col Cadogan has died of a wound he received. In him his Majesty has lost an officer of great zeal and tried gallantry, who had already acquired the respect and regard of the whole profession, and of whom it might be expected, that if he had lived he would have rendered the most important services to his country.”
Henry’s heroic death was commemorated in several literary and poetic accounts at the time and there are monuments to his name in St Pauls and Glasgow Cathedral. Henry’s name also lives on in Cadogan Street in central Glasgow, which runs parallel to Wellington Lane and Waterloo Street.
Although I now have a copy of Henry’s letter from the UK Parliamentary Archive, I know nothing more about his relationship to James Pulteney than what he relates in his own words. Pearman is also silent on the subject, however he does add that while Henry died “without ever having married”, in 1832 Wellington wrote to the Commander in Chief of the forces in East India recommending to him one Henry Carr “the son of the late Colonel Cadogan of the Seventy-First Regiment of Foot.”