Rifles: Six Years With Wellington's Legendary Sharpshooters by Mark Urban

commanding officer’s favour but a post also requiring him to police the regiment’s young subalterns, acting as his colonel’s truncheon. He had been promoted to captain in 1803 after that same commanding officer wrote of his ‘anxious wish that the eldest lieutenant of the Rifle Regt, Adjt O’Hare, should be recommended to the succession to the 3rd … company … Lieut. O’Hare is a subaltern of very long standing and a very good officer.’
    By early 1810, O’Hare was in a similar situation to that of seven years earlier. He had served longer in his rank than any other regimental officer and he was next on the list for promotion, unless he was overtaken by another captain who had the money to purchase a majority or had shown heroism on the field of battle. O’Hare had grown quite used to these vicissitudes, and was of course aware that now he was on campaign, he might secure the coveted major’s post through heroics of his own.

    In order to make the best of his chances, O’Hare had to ensure that his company’s every duty was carried out punctiliously. He also intended to keep certain things about his own origins and his private life to himself. His brother officers were ignorant of the wife, Mary, and daughter, Marianne, that O’Hare left behind in England. To little Marianne, he was something of a stranger, his campaigns having kept him overseas for around half of her six years. As for Mary, he chose not to introduce her into regimental society.
    When 3rd Company soldiers supping their grog gossiped about their captain, they talked about his love of wine and women. Before their departure, O’Hare had spent some time pursuing a young lady in Hythe, not far from Shorncliffe camp. As the couple walked arm in arm along the sea promenade, they would be greeted by soldiers from the company, many of whom would ask favours of their captain, knowing that he dare not decline, lest he forfeit her good opinion. O’Hare was not the brightest spark, but even he eventually tumbled to their tactics and swore to ‘flog the first man who made another attempt’. In his pursuit of the maid of Hythe, O’Hare had eventually antagonised a rival in the form of a militia officer who challenged him to a duel. The captain sent word back to his challenger that he was a fool, and in any case the 95th was imminently departing on service.
    The Irish captain was no oil painting – he was characterised by one of his riflemen as having an ‘extremely ugly countenance’. Having sprung from obscure origins to the status and pay of a captain of the Rifles, he intended to make the most of his position, particularly when it came to the opposite sex. On campaign, he took many a chance to enjoy good wine and company.
    During their march north, on Christmas night, O’Hare had been drinking with fellow officers and retired to his quarters, in the words of one of the party, ‘having enjoyed the wine very much’. A rifleman, taking advantage of O’Hare’s deep sleep, stole his boots. The intention, presumably, was to sell them for drink, since he could never have worn them publicly. The soldier was caught and ordered to be flogged. O’Hare supervised the punishment, ‘gave the man every lash, and recommended the buglers to lay it on lustily and save the fellow from the gallows’.
    Someone like O’Hare, having entered the Army as a surgeon’s mate with Irish Catholic origins, could not claim to have started life at a station any higher than had most of the rankers. Many of the soldiersfound it harder to defer to such a man. One private of the 95th summed it up pithily: ‘In our army the men prefer to be officered by gentlemen, by men whose education has rendered them more kind in manners than a coarse officer who has sprung from obscure origins, and whose style is brutal and overbearing.’
    From the officers’ side of the divide – for O’Hare’s predicament in this regard was far from unique in the Rifles – it was difficult to