"The more striking," he proceeds to say, "the honourable example of an old soldier enjoying his pension, the more likely is it to contribute to spread a military feeling in the neighbourhood. But to repay the retired soldier by a pension inadequate to his sustenance, must have the effect of consigning him to the workhouse, and of sinking him and the army in the estimation of the working class of the population; destroying all military feeling, and, whilst the soldier is serving, weakening those important aids to discipline – the cheerfulness and satisfaction which the prospect of a pension, after a definite period, inspires."
We now come to a branch of our subject encompassed with peculiar difficulties, and that will be met with many objections; the present system of disposing of commissions in the army is too convenient and agreeable to a large and influential class of the community for it to be otherwise. The most important part of the proposed scheme of rewards is the bestowing of commissions upon sergeants. We are aware that, in the present constitution of the army, much may be urged against such a plan being carried out beyond an exceedingly limited extent. But most of the objections would, we think, be removed by the adoption and consequences of limited service, and by the extinction of corporal punishment. Others would disappear before a greater attention to the education of the soldier, and before some slight reductions in what are now erroneously considered the necessary expenses of officers.
Constituted and regulated as the British army now is, the immediate consequences of enlistment to the young peasant or artisan of previous respectability is a total breach with his family. However good his previous character, the single fact of his entering what ought to be an honourable profession, excludes him from the society and good opinion of his nearest friends. Former associates shun and look coldly upon him, his female relatives are ashamed to be seen walking with him, often the door of his father's cottage or workshop is shut on his approach. The community in general, there is no dissembling the fact, look upon soldiers as a degraded class, and upon the recruit as a man consigned to evil company, to idleness and the alehouse, and perhaps to the ignominy of the lash. To brand an innocent man as criminal is the way to render him so. Avoided and despised, the young soldier, to whom bad example is not wanting, speedily comes to deserve the disreputable character which the mere assumption of a red coat has caused to be fixed upon him. So long as military service stands thus low in the opinion of the people, the army will have to recruit its ranks from the profligate and the utterly destitute, and the supply of respectable volunteers will be as limited as heretofore. At present, most young men of a better class whom a temporary impulse, or a predilection for the service, has induced to enlist, strain every nerve, when they awake to their real position, to raise funds for their discharge. In this their friends often aid them; and we have known instances of incredible sacrifices being made by the poor to snatch a son or brother from what they looked upon as the jaws of destruction. And thus is it that a large proportion of the respectable recruits are bought out after a brief period of service.
Assuming limitation of service and the abolition of corporal punishment to have been conceded, the next thing demanding attention would be the education of the soldier. This has hitherto been sadly neglected, strangely so at a period and in a country where education of the people is so strongly and generally advocated. The schoolmaster is abroad, we are told – we should be glad to hear of his visiting the barrack-room. To no class of the population would a good plain education be more valuable than to the soldier, as a means of filling up his abundant leisure, of improving his moral condition, and preserving him from drunkenness and vice. How extraordinary that its advantages should so long have been overlooked, even by those to whom they ought to have been the most palpable. "Of two hundred and fourteen officers," Mr Marshall writes, "who returned answers to the following query, addressed to them by the General Commanding in Chief, in 1834, only two or three recommended intellectual, moral, or religious cultivation as a means of preventing crime: – 'Are you enabled to suggest any means of restraining, or eradicating the propensity to drunkenness, so prevalent among the soldiery, and confessedly the parent of the majority of military crimes?' A great variety of penal enactments were recommended, but no one suggested the school master's drill but Sir George Arthur and the late Colonel Oglander. The colonel's words are: – 'The only effectual corrective of this, as of every other vice, is a sound and rational sense of religion. This is the only true foundation of moral discipline. The establishment of libraries, and the system of adult schools, would be useful in this view.'" To prevent crime is surely better than to punish it. Vast pains are taken with the merely military education of the soldier. A recruit is carefully drilled into the perpendicular, taught to handle his musket, mount his guards, clean his accoutrements – converted, in short, into an excellent automaton – and then he is dismissed as perfect, and left to lounge away, as best he may, his numerous hours of daily leisure. He has perhaps never been taught to read and write, or may possess those accomplishments but imperfectly. What more natural than to encourage, and, if necessary, to compel him to acquire them, together with such other useful scholarship as it may be desirable for him to possess? Education would be especially valuable under a system of limited service. The soldier, leaving the army when still a young man, would be better fitted than before he entered it, for any trade or occupation he might adopt. And when the lower classes found that military service was made a medium for the communication of knowledge, and that their sons, after seven years passed under the colours, were better able to get through the world advantageously and creditably than when they enlisted, the present strong prejudice against a soldier's life would rapidly become weakened, and finally disappear. The army would then be looked upon by poor men with large families as no undesirable resource for temporarily providing for one or two of their sons.
It is certainly not creditable to this country, that in France, Prussia, Holland, and even in Russia – that land of the serf and the Cossack – greater pains are taken with the education of the soldier than in free and enlightened England. It has become customary to compare our navy with that of France, and when we are found to have a carronade or a cock-boat less than our friends across the water, a shout of indignation is forthwith set up by vigilant journalists and nervous naval officers. We heartily wish that it were equally usual to contrast our army with that of the French – not in respect of numbers, but of the attention paid to the education and moral discipline of the men. Every French regiment has two schools, a higher and a lower one. In the latter are taught reading, writing, and arithmetic; in the former, geography, book-keeping, the elements of geometry and fortification, and other things equally useful. The schools are managed by lieutenants, aided by non-commissioned officers; and sergeants recommended for commissions are required to pass an examination in the branches of knowledge there taught. It is well known that in the French service, as in most others, excepting the English, a proportion of the commissions is set aside for the sergeants. In the Prussian service there is a school in each battalion, superintended by a captain and three lieutenants, who receive additional pay for alternately taking a share in the instruction of the soldiers. "Non-commissioned officers," Mr Marshall informs us, "who wish to become officers, first undergo an examination in geography, history, simple mathematics, and the French and German languages. At the end of another year they are again examined in the same branches of knowledge, and also in algebra, military drawing, and fortification. If they pass this second examination, they become officers."
How many of the young men, who, by virtue of interest or money, enter the British army as ensigns and cornets, would be found willing to devote even a small portion of their time to the instruction of the soldier? Very few, we fear. By the majority, the idea would be scouted as a bore, and as quite inconsistent with their dignity. Extra pay, however acceptable to the comparatively needy Prussian lieutenant, might be expected to prove an insufficient inducement in a service where it is frequently difficult to find a subaltern to accept the duties of adjutant. None can entertain a higher respect than we do for the gallant spirit and many excellent qualities of the present race of British officers; but we confess a wish that they would view their profession in a more serious light. Young men entering the army seemingly imagine, that the sole object of their so doing is to wear a well-made uniform, and dine at a pleasant mess; and that, once dismissed to their duty by the adjutant, they may fairly discard all idea of self-instruction and improvement. But war is an art, and therefore its principles can be acquired but by study. Our young officers too often neglect not only their military studies, but their mental improvement in other respects; forgetting that the most valuable part of a man's education is not that acquired at a public school before the age of eighteen, but that which he bestows upon himself after that age. The former is the foundation; the latter the fabric to be raised upon it. We have known instances of smart subs deft upon parade, brilliants in the ball-room, perfect models of a pretty soldier from plume to boot-heel, so supremely ignorant of the common business of life as to be unable to write a letter without a severe effort, or to draw a bill upon their agents when no one was at hand to instruct them in its form. It was but the other day that an officer related to us, that, being detached on an outpost in one of our colonies, he found himself in company with two brother subalterns, both most anxious to make a call upon their father's strong-box, but totally ignorant how to effect the same. Their spirit was very willing, but their pen lamentably weak; their exchequer was exhausted, and in their mind's-eye the paternal coffers stood invitingly open; but nevertheless they sat helpless, ruefully contemplating oblong slips of blank paper, until our friend, whose experience as a man of business was somewhat greater, extricated them from their painful dilemma, by drawing up the necessary document at thirty days' sight. In this particular view, want of skill as a "pen and ink man" would probably not be regretted by those most interested in their sons; and doubtless many governors would exclaim, as fervently as Lord Douglas in Marmion,
"Thanks to St Bothan, son of mine
Could never pen a written line!"
Seriously speaking, a graver and more studious tone is wanted in our service. It is found in the military services of other countries. German and French officers take their calling far more au sérieux than do ours. They find abundant time for pleasure, but also for solitude and reading, and for attention to the improvement of the soldier. Dressing, dining, and cigars, and beating the pavements of a garrison town with his boot-heels, ought not to fill up the whole time of a subaltern officer. That in this country they usually do so, will be admitted by all who have had opportunities of observing young English officers in peace time. We could bring hosts of witnesses in support of our assertion, but will content ourselves with one whose competency to judge in such matters will not be disputed. The following passages are from Major-General Sir George Arthur's "General Observations upon Military Discipline, and the Intellectual and Moral Improvement of both Officers and Soldiers."
"I have said that education is essential, as well as moral character, and so it is. Look into the habits of the officers of almost every regiment in His Majesty's service – how are they formed? Do men study at all after they get commissions? Very far from it; unless an officer is employed in the field, his days are passed in mental idleness – his ordinary duties are carried on instinctively – there is no intellectual exertion. To discuss fluently upon women, play, horses, and wine, is, with some excellent exceptions, the ordinary range of mess conversation. In these matters lie the education of young officers, generally speaking, after entering the service."
"If the officers were not seen so habitually walking in the streets in every garrison town, the soldiers would be less frequently found in public-houses."
The influence of example is great, especially when exercised by those whom we are taught to look up to and respect. A change in the habits of officers will go far to produce one in those of their men. French officers, of whom we are sure that no British officer who has met them, either in the field or in quarters, will speak without respect, feel a pride and a pleasure in the instruction of the soldier, and take pains to induce him to improve his mind, holding out as an incentive the prospect of promotion. And such interest and solicitude produce, amongst other good effects, an affectionate feeling on the part of the soldier towards his superiors, which, far from interfering with discipline, makes him perform his duties, often onerous and painful, with increased zeal and good-will. For the want of this kindly sympathy between different ranks, and of the moral instruction which, by elevating their character, would go far to produce it, our soldiers are converted into mere machines, unable even to think, often forbidden so to do. We are convinced that attention to the education of the soldier, introduced simultaneously with short enlistments and abolition of flogging, would speedily create in the army of this country a body of non-commissioned officers, who, when promoted, would disgrace no mess-table in the service. With the prospect of the epaulet before them, they would strive to improve themselves, and to become fit society for the men of higher breeding and education with whom they hoped one day to be called upon to associate. For, if it be painful and unpleasant to a body of gentlemen to have a coarse and ill-mannered man thrust upon them, it is certainly not less so to the intruder, if he possess one spark of feeling, to find himself shunned and looked coldly upon by his new associates. The total abolition of corporal punishment is, we consider, a necessary preliminary to promotion from the ranks on an extensive scale. We were told four years ago, in the House of Commons, during a debate on the Mutiny bill, that there were then in the British army four colonels who were flogged men. Many will remember the story related in a recent military publication, of the old field-officer who, one day at the mess-table, or amongst a party of his comrades, declared himself in favour of corporal punishment, on the ground that he himself had never been worth a rush till he had taken his cool three hundred. During a long war, abounding in opportunities of distinction, and at a time when the lash was the universal punishment for nearly every offence, it is not surprising that here and there a flogged man got his commission. But, in our opinion, not only the circumstance of having been flogged, but the mere liability to so degrading an infliction, might plausibly be urged as an argument against promotion from the ranks. Let the lash, then, at once and totally disappear; replace torture by instruction, hold out judicious rewards instead of disgraceful punishment, appeal to the sense of honour of the man, instead of to the sense of pain of the brute; and, repudiating the harsh traditions of less enlightened days, lay it down as an axiom, that the British soldier can and will fight at least as well under a mild and generous system, as when the bloody thongs of the cat are suspended in terrorem over him.
The physical as well as moral training of the soldier should receive attention, as a means both of filling up his time, thereby keeping him from the alehouse, and of increasing his efficiency in the field. At present the marching qualities of our armies are very far inferior to their fighting ones. In the latter, they are surpassed by none – in the former, equal to few. And yet how important is it that troops should be able to perform long and rapid marches! The fate of a campaign, the destruction of an enemy's army, may, and often does depend upon a forced march. At that work there is scarcely an army in Europe worth the naming, but would beat us, at least at the commencement of a war, and until our soldiers had got their marching legs – a thing not done in a day, or without great loss and inconvenience by straggling. Foot-sore men are almost as great a nuisance and encumbrance to infantry, as sore-backed horses to dragoons. Our soldiers are better fed than those of most other countries, and to keep them in hard and serviceable condition they require more exercise than they get. French soldiers are encouraged to practice athletic exercises and games; running, quoit-playing, and fencing, the latter especially, are their constant pastimes. Most of them are expert swordsmen, no valueless accomplishment even to the man whose usual weapons are musket and bayonet, but one that in our infantry regiments is frequently neglected even by those whose only arm is the sword, namely, the officers. Surely the man who carries a sword should know how to use it in the most effectual manner. Let old officers say on whose side the advantage usually was in the sword duels that occurred when Paris was occupied by the Allies, and when the French officers, maddened by their reverses, sought opportunities of picking quarrels with their conquerors. The adjutant of a British foot regiment informed us, that on one occasion, not very long ago, at a review of his corps by an officer of high rank, the latter, after applauding the performances of the regiment, expressed a wish to see the officers do the sword exercise. In obedience to orders, the adjutant called the officers to the front. "I suppose, gentlemen," said he, "that few of you know much about the sword exercise." His assumption was not contradicted. "Probably, your best plan will be to watch the sergeant-major and myself." And accordingly adjutant and sergeant-major placed themselves in front of each flank, and the officers, looking to them as fuglemen, went through their exercise with great delicacy and tolerable correctness, to the perfect satisfaction of the inspecting general, who probably was not disposed to be very captious. But we are digressing from the subject of the soldier's occupations. In France, let a military work be required – a wall, road, or fortification – and the soldiers slip into their working dresses, and labour at it with a good will produced by additional pay. Thus were the forts and vast wall now surrounding Paris run up in wonderfully short time by the exertions of the soldiery. In all German garrison towns, we believe – certainly in all that we have visited – is found an Exercitiums Platz, a field or plot of ground with bars, poles, and other gymnastic contrivances, reserved for the troops, who are frequently to be seen there, amusing themselves, and improving their strength and activity of body. We are aware of nothing of this kind in our service, beyond a rare game at cricket, got up by the good-nature of officers. As Dr Fergusson truly says, "of all European troops, our own appear to be the most helpless and listless in their quarters. Whilst the soldiers of other nations employ their leisure hours in fencing, gymnastics, and other exercises of strength, ours are lounging idle, or muddled, awaiting the hour of their unvaried meal, or the drum being beat for the daily parades." This might easily be altered. It needs but to be thought of, which hitherto it appears not to have been. No men are naturally more adapted and prone to manly exercises than the English. Give the soldier the opportunity, and he will gladly avail himself of it.
Before closing this paper, a word or two on the equipment and dress of the army will not be out of place. We are glad to find the opinions we have long entertained on those subjects confirmed by a pithy and pointed chapter in Dr Fergusson's book. The externals of the army have of late been much discussed, and have undergone certain changes, scarcely deserving the name of improvements. In regulating such matters, three objects should be kept in view, and their pursuit never departed from; lightness on the march, protection from the weather, ease of movement. The attainment of these should be sought by every means; even by the sacrifice, if necessary, of what pleases the eye. The most heavily laden, the British soldier is in many respects the most inconveniently equipped, of all European men-at-arms. The covering of his head, the material and colour of his belts, the very form of the foot-soldier's overalls, cut large over the shoe, as if on purpose to become dirty and draggled on the march, seem selected with a view to occasion him as much uncomfort and trouble as possible. Time was, when the soldier was compelled to powder his hair and wear a queue and tight knee breeches, like a dancing master or a French marquis of the ancien régime. For the sweeping away of such absurdities, which must have been especially convenient and agreeable in a bivouac; we may thank the Duke of York; but much as has been done, there is much more to do. And first as regards the unnecessarily heavy belts, the cumbersome and misplaced cartridge-box. Than the latter it would be difficult to devise any thing more inconvenient, as all who have seen British infantry in the field will admit. The soldier has to make a rapid advance, to pursue a flying enemy, to scud across fields, leap ditches or jump down banks when out skirmishing. At every spring or jump, bang goes the lumbering cartridge-box against his posteriors, until he is fain to use his hand to steady it, thereby of course greatly impeding his progress, the swiftness and ease of running depending in great measure on one arm, at least, being at liberty. And then the belts, what an unnecessary mass of leather is there, all bedaubed with the fictitious purity of chalk and water. When will the soldier cease to depend for cleanliness upon pipe-clay, justly styled by Dr Fergusson "as absurd and unwholesome a nuisance as ever was invented." Had the object been to give the utmost possible trouble to the infantry-man, no better means could have been devised than inflicting on him the belts at present used, of all others the most easily sullied and troublesome to clean. Let a black patent leather belt and rifleman's cartridge-box be adopted as the regulation for the whole of the British service. Light to carry, convenient in form, and easy to clean, it is the perfection of infantry equipment.
There has recently been a great talk about hats, and various shocking bad ones have been proposed as a substitute for the old top-heavy shako. Without entering upon a subject that has already caused so much controversy, we would point attention to the light shako worn by the French troops in Algeria. Low, and slightly tapering in form, with a broad peak projecting horizontally, so as to shade the eyes without embarrassing the vision, which peaks that droop overmuch are apt to do, its circumference is of cloth, its crown of thick leather painted white. The general effect is good, conveying an idea of lightness and convenience, both of which this head-dress certainly possesses; and it appears to us that a hint might be taken from it, at any rate, for our troops in India, and other hot climates. As to fur caps a yard high, and similar nonsensical exhibitions, we can only say that the sooner they are done away with, the better for the credit of those who have it in their power to abolish such gross absurdities. With regard to coats, "I advance no pretensions," says Dr Fergusson, "to fancy or taste in military dress, but I ought to know what constitutes cover and protection to the human frame, and amongst these the swallow-tailed coat of the infantry, pared away as it is to an absurdity, holds no place. If health and protection were the object, the coat should be of round cut, to cover the thighs as low as the knees, with body of sufficient depth to support the unprotected flanks and abdomen of the wearer." In the French service, frock-coats have of late been universally adopted. We should prefer a tailed coat of greater amplitude of skirt and depth of body than the one in present use; for it is certain, and will be acknowledged by all who have performed marches and pedestrian excursions, that the skirts of a frock-coat flapping against the front of the thighs, more or less impede motion and add to fatigue.
Although the form of a soldier's dress is important, for it may make a considerable difference in his health and comfort, its colour and ornamental details are a very secondary consideration. It were absurd to doubt that a British soldier would fight equally well, whatever the tint of the cloth that covered his stalwart arm and stout heart. Strip him to-morrow of his scarlet, and he will do his devoir as nobly in the white jacket of the Austrian grenadier or the brown one of the Portuguese cazador. Such matters, it will be said, may be left to army tailors and pet colonels of fancy regiments, in conclave assembled. Nevertheless it is a subject that should not entirely be passed over. Soldiers are apt to look with disgust and contempt upon equipments that are tawdry and unserviceable, or that give them unnecessary trouble. They should be gravely, soberly, and usefully clad, in the garb that may be found most comfortable and durable in the field, not in that which most flatters the eye on a Hounslow or Hyde Park parade. Dr Fergusson is amusing enough upon the subject of hussar pelisses and such-like foreign fooleries.
"The first time I ever saw a hussar, or hulan, was at Ghent, in Flanders, then an Austrian town; and when I beheld a richly decorated pelisse waving, empty sleeves and all, from his shoulder, I never doubted that the poor man must have been recently shot through the arm; a glance, however, upon a tightly braided sleeve underneath, made it still more unaccountable; and why he should not have had an additional pair of richly ornamental breeches dangling at his waist, as well as a jacket from his shoulders, has, I confess, puzzled me from that time to the present; it being the first rule of health to keep the upper portion of the body as cool, and the lower as warm as possible."
The doctor further disapproves of scarlet as a colour for uniform, because "a man clothed in scarlet exhibits the dress of a mountebank rather than of a British warrior going forth to fight the battles of his country," and also "because it is the worst adapted for any hard work of all the colours, as it immediately becomes shabby and tarnished on being exposed to the weather; and a single wet night in the bivouac spoils it completely." Here we must differ from the doctor. The chief advantage of scarlet, we have always considered, and we believe the same opinion to be generally held by military men, is that it looks well longer, gets white and shabby later, than a darker colour. The preparation of the cloth and mode of dyeing, may, however, have been improved since Dr Fergusson's period of service. With regard to the colour, there is a popular prejudice in its favour, associating it as most persons do, from childhood upwards, with ideas of glory and victory. Had our uniform been yellow for the same period that it has been red, we should have attached those ideas to the former colour; but that would be no reason for continuing to dress soldiers like canary birds. Apart from association, scarlet is unmilitary, first, because it is tawdry; and, secondly, as rendering the soldier, when isolated, an easier mark than a less glaring colour. We doubt also, if it would harmonize well with the black belts, which we desire to see adopted; and on these various accounts we must give our vote in favour of the sober blue of the Prussians, assuredly no un-British colour, and one already in use for many of our cavalry regiments. The Portuguese troops, as they are now uniformed, or were, when last we saw them, offer no bad model in this respect. Blue coats and dark grey trousers are the colours of their line regiments, and these we should like to see adopted in our service, preserving always the green for the rifles, who ought to be ten times as numerous as they are, as we shall discover whenever we come to a brush with the Yankees, or with our old and gallant opponent, Monsieur Nong-tong-paw. One would have thought that the picking off of our officers at New Orleans, and on other occasions, and the stinging practice of French tirailleurs during the last war, would have taught our military rulers a lesson in this respect; but the contrary seems the case, and on we go at the old jog-trot, heavy men, heavy equipments, and slow march, whilst seven-eighths of the French army are practically light infantry, and it is only the other day that they raised ten new regiments of sharpshooters, the Chasseurs de Vincennes, or some such name, little light active riflemen, trained to leap and to march for leagues at double quick, and who would scamper round a ten acre field whilst a heavy British grenadier went through his facings. The cool steadiness and indomitable pluck of our fellows has hitherto carried the day, and will doubtless do it again when the time comes, but it would be done with greater ease and less loss if we could condescend to fight our enemy rather more with his own weapons. Fas est ab hoste doceri, is a maxim oftener quoted than acted upon. But to return to uniforms. The scarlet might be reserved for the guards – it has always been a guardsman's colour – the blue given to the line, the green kept for the rifles; black belts on rifle plan for all. And above all, if it can be done without too great annoyance to tailors, amateur and professional, deliver us from braided pelisses, bearskin caps, crimson pantaloons, and all such costly and unserviceable fopperies. Spend money on the well-being of the soldier, rather than on the smartness of his uniform; cut down frippery, and increase comfort. Attend less to the glitter of externals, and more to that moral and intellectual cultivation, which will convert men now treated as machines, into reasoning and reasonable creatures, and valuable members of society.