The man who punched the Duke of Cambridge
Captain Charles S. Maunsell, an Indian Mutiny and Zulu War veteran
In 1874, a frustrated Captain Charles Studdert Maunsell, an Indian Mutiny veteran, late of the 82nd (The Prince of Wales’s Volunteers) Foot, was found guilty and sentenced for unlawfully assaulting His Royal Highness, the Duke of Cambridge, the Field Marshal and Commander-in-Chief of the British Army. But why did he take such drastic and public action?
Charles was born at Fort Eyre, County Galway, Ireland, in 1832, and at times during his military service was referred to as ‘Studdert-Maunsell.’ His father was the Reverend Edward Eyre Maunsell, and his older brother was Major George William Maunsell of the 4th Battalion, Connaught Rangers.
Keen to be a soldier, he wrote to the Duke of Wellington, volunteering to serve in the cape; however, his father, a clergyman in West Ireland, managed to scrape together enough money to purchase him a commission. On 18 February 1853, Charles was commissioned as an ensign in the Cape Mounted Rifleman and sent to serve on the Eastern Cape Frontier, at which time the 8th Frontier War was raging. The CMR was until 1872 an imperial-funded regiment and wore rifle-green hussar jackets with black facings. He volunteered, like many others in the CMR, to serve in Crimea, but his request was denied, and he remained in the Cape. On 21 September 1858, Charles was exchanged as a lieutenant in the 82nd (The Prince of Wales’s Volunteers) Foot and served in China and India.
During the Indian Mutiny (1857–59), he took part in the operations at Cawnpore, the actions at Kala Nuddee, Khankur, the capture of Bareilly, and the relief of Shahjehanpore. Campaign life suited him, and he proved himself in action on several occasions while being specially commended for his bravery at Cawnpore, of which one account records,
‘The major-general writes, I have a perfect recollection of the circumstances you allude to on the 28th Nov., 1857, at Cawnpore. It has remained on my memory because I was struck with your gallant behavior in springing out to the front to lead your company to attack the guns in our front in accordance with General Windham’s orders. It was then, I used the words rightly stated by you, although I did not know the officers name, but I never saw an officer lead his men in finer style.’
Years passed without him being promoted, and junior officers purchasing promotion over him. Charles could not afford to purchase promotion, and according to his claim, he was the senior subaltern not only in the regiment but in the army. He was finally promoted without purchase as a half-pay captain on 29 May 1869.
On many occasions, he corresponded with The Duke of Cambridge, outlining that he felt aggrieved, and in two separate letters, he became overly emotional in his writing and was compelled to apologize for his abusive tone. The duke believed that he should be considered for unattached promotion, but as he was planning to retire, Charles, pushing the situation, further suggested that he should receive a brevet majority or honorary rank on the retired list ‘in consideration of his services in the field, the years he has been in the army, and his long foreign service.’
In October 1871, he applied to realize the value of his commission, and in July 1872, he left the army and resided at the Clarendon Buildings in George Street, London. He still maintained his pursuit for his case to be reviewed and, at one point he even suggested that he should re-join the Army to be promoted.
Charles, believing that he was being stonewalled, intentionally decided to bring the matter into the public eye. It was on 4 January 1874, while walking along Pall Mall, that he publicly confronted the Duke of Cambridge. Charles, yelling at him, stated that he had grievously wronged him, then punched him four times, once on the chest and then between the shoulders. Charles later claimed that he only punched him twice, the second time as the commander-in-chief was walking away so that he could be arrested. At the subsequent hearing, Charles stated that:
‘I can most truthfully say there was no malice or intent to cause the Commander-in-Chief bodily injury in either of my blows. If these had been I would have hit straight in the face. I had exhausted every means within my power, or that I could think of, to bring my case before the public, having previously failed in all my efforts to obtain justice where I had a right to look for it. My story is told, and I am again ready to go back to my prison.’
On 2 February 1874, at the Central Criminal Court, he was tried and sentenced to one month’s imprisonment with hard labour at Newgate prison, and needless to say, all further correspondence with the commander-in-chief ceased. He next emerges on 6 November 1878, when, from Fort Eyre in Galway, he applied for a commission in the Cape Mounted Rifles; however, he was unsuccessful, as would be expected.
Like many former soldiers or militiamen, as soon as the Zulu victory at iSandlwana on 22 January 1879 was received back home, he made his way to South Africa and volunteered for service. He was appointed a lieutenant in Lonsdale’s Mounted Rifles, however, only one troop served on operations. Interestingly, the Canadian-born Colonel Sam Jarvis of the 82nd Foot, who knew Charles well, was serving at the Cape and was most probably the driving force behind him receiving a commission with Lonsdale’s Mounted Rifles; they had both fought in the mutiny together, and Jarvis, no doubt, was aware of Charles’ fighting spirit.
Once more, on 12 February 1883, he was charged at the Bow Street Court for having smashed a home office window out of frustration that he believed his grievances were never recognized. In 1891, he received £50 from the Army Relief Fund. He lived for a period in Westmoreland Street, Pimlico, and according to family records, he died about 1904, thus ending the life of Captain Charles Studdert Maunsell, a man who, in his youth, had proven himself in action, and being passed over by promotion carried stress and anger for the remainder of his days.
As the cliche goes Cam, 'not bad for a passed over officer'.