The Young Dragoon: Every Day Life of a Soldier
The first regiment I noticed was the 21st Light Infantry: a smart, well-disciplined corps it is too, hardy-looking, well-built fellows, with plenty of bone and muscle. They wear white facings on their jackets, and have white plumes nodding in their ugly-looking shakos. Passing the 11th regiment, wearing green facings, and the 12th, not long arrived from Australia, where I was told they lost many men, who deserted to the gold diggings, I came to the lines of a militia regiment, their uniform fitting them like sentry-boxes, their forage-caps placed on their heads like inverted quartern measures, and their heads sticking out of their stiff leathern stocks like a cod-fish boiling in a kettle with the head upwards. Why do the militia wear leathern stocks, especially in hot weather?
I have now arrived on the crest of the hill overlooking the south camp, situate in a valley; and travelling on its ridge I can see, far away to my left, the stables of the Royal Horse Artillery. These are constructed of heather, hazel-sticks, straw, and furze; and though in a very exposed situation, they are tolerably warm – a sort of medium temperature between brick-built stables and the open air. These stables have all been burnt down and many horses destroyed since I was at Aldershot. A large open space in front of the stables was covered with Armstrong guns, at which some recruits were at practice. Farther away still is the commissariat – a pile of ugly-looking buildings, full of prime ox-beef, living and slaughtered, ready for the cook-houses, which are here fitted with improved patented apparatus that will bake, boil, or stew with equal facility. Not the least prominent object on the crest of the hill, in the centre of the camp, and hanging on a sort of gibbet-post, is a very large bell, fought for, won, and transported from Sebastopol. Here I have a full view of the permanent barracks in the valley below, together with a range of little shops – butchers’, bakers’, shoemakers’, greengrocers’, outfitters’, jewellers’, public-houses, etc, etc. The first building on my right, after descending the bill, was once a workhouse – it is now an hospital for sick soldiers; and those poor fellows who were able were taking exercise outside its walls. Farther on still I find myself fairly in the middle of the camp, and have little more to say in reference to Aldershot, except that it is the only encampment or station of the British army where the Queen witnesses an occasional review of her troops.
There is one very objectionable matter in connexion with these royal reviews, which is, that her Majesty – known to be so kind and considerate to all persons with whom she comes in contact – invariably chooses the middle of the day at the hottest period of the year to order a field-day in review order, on which occasion it not unfrequently happens that more than one poor fellow is sun-struck, dies, or loses his reason. There is a house or pavilion built and expressly fitted up for the royal family, and the Queen would be far more popular with her army if she would remain all night at the camp, and order the review to take place from four to seven in the morning. As matters now are conducted, the sovereign is by no means welcome by either soldiers or officers at Aldershot; and the sooner the absurd practice of drilling soldiers in the middle of a hot summer’s day is dispensed with, the better will it be for the health, the contentment, and the discipline of the army. The welfare of the army should always be the first consideration of the sovereign and the advisers of the Crown.
The camp at the Curragh is conducted much on the same principle as the camp at Aldershot. It is situate on a vast plain between Newbridge and Kildare, about thirty miles from Dublin, and convenient to the railway-stations at each of the above places. The Curragh is to Ireland what Newmarket is to England – the head-quarters or metropolis of horse-racing and training. There are four race meetings a year at this place – in April, June, September, and October; but they create little interest as compared to former years, when the Marquis of Waterford, Messrs Irwin, Watts, and others of the old Irish school were alive. Unlike the dusty, bleak, and barren desert of Aldershot, the Curragh, all around the camp, is composed of the most beautiful turf, kept short by being eaten by vast flocks of sheep.
The camp occupies a position on the highest portion of the plain, being considered healthy; though many of the horses are continually exposed to the open air, and I have myself seen them over the fetlocks in mud. There are frequently as many as 15,000 to 20,000 men stationed here in the summer months, but many of them are dispersed into winter quarters in the month of October. It was here that the Prince of Wales went through the practical part of his military drill, in 1861-62. I frequently saw him mounted on a grey cob, called “Rupee,” cantering in great glee in company with some young subalterns, little more than his own age, over the beautiful greensward of the Curragh, and many an Irish beggar he has relieved with his own hand. The village or small town of Newbridge is just on the borders of the Curragh, and there is always a cavalry regiment stationed in the barracks, which is the most prominent building in the place.
The revolutionary spirit is, I regret to say, still very predominant throughout the southern and western districts of Ireland, and there are few towns of any magnitude without a regiment or battalion of soldiers; besides this, the police are all, mounted and foot, armed with swords and carbines, being drilled and living in barracks just the same as soldiers. They wear a dark-green uniform with black leather belt. The mounted police have their staff of rough-riders, riding-masters, etc, the same as the regular cavalry: they ride well, and are a fine body of men, but more ornamental than really useful, as they lack the intelligence and detective zeal of English policemen.
Before the camp at the Curragh was instituted, the soldiers stationed in Dublin were drilled and reviewed in Phoenix Park, on the outskirts of the city. This park, for a public one, is the largest and most natural in the kingdom. It is not many years ago since races were held there, but they are now done away with, and it is seldom that troops are reviewed in the park now. There is a splendid monument erected to the Duke of Wellington, a sort of obelisk with the names of all the actions in which he was engaged, reaching from base to summit. The base all around is relieved by bronze castings, representing scenes in the various battles, something after the fashion of Nelson’s monument in Trafalgar Square. One peculiar feature in Phoenix Park is the vast number of very old hawthorn trees, and their red and white bloom has a very pretty effect in the month of May. The viceregal lodge – the residence of the Lord-Lieutenant – is situate in a lovely spot in Phoenix Park. The Chief Secretary’s lodge is also in this park. The space of ground set apart for the drilling of cavalry is called the “fifteen acres,” and it was more of a treat than a toil to be drilled on such ground. The Dublin citizens pay great respect to soldiers generally; they do not, however, like the foot guards, a battalion of whom is generally stationed there – for what reason I cannot understand, as they never leave the city without having a riot with the civilians or the men of some other corps.
There is, however, a way to account for this ill-feeling. The Irish are a very impulsive race, and, as a rule, hate everything English, solely because they are for the most part taught to do so from their childhood. The guards, horse and foot, are mostly English; but other regiments are composed of English, Irish, and Scotch. The Irish agree better with Englishmen in barrack, camp, or on the line of march, than they do among themselves; because, if the one is hot and impulsive, the other will reason: but, knowing the guards to be all English, and never having an opportunity to converse soberly and rationally with them, there is neither time nor inclination to reason, and so they never meet or part without either high words or blows – oftener the latter than the former – and Paddy mostly gets the worst of it.
To foreigners visiting this country, there are no more interesting sights than the camps of Aldershot and the Curragh; and the arsenal at Woolwich has been visited by thousands of distinguished individuals from every country and clime.
Chapter Twenty
A triple mounted row of pillars laidOn wheels (for like to pillars most they seem’d,Of hollow’d bodies made of oak or fir,With branches lopp’d in wood or mountain fell’d):Brass, iron, stony mould, had not their mouthsWith hideous orifice gaped on us wide,Portending hollow truce.Milton.Woolwich is the great rendezvous and head-quarters of the Royal Artillery, the Military Train, and the Royal Engineers, and few troops, besides marines – who are continually moving in and out with the various men-of-war vessels – are ever quartered at Woolwich. The royal arsenal is the main attraction of Woolwich; and the principal part of the inhabitants derive their support from Government in some shape or other. The admission is by ticket; and the visitor is accompanied in his tour of inspection by policemen. The days of admission are Wednesdays and Fridays.
There are generally about 12,000 men employed at the arsenal; but the ordinary visitor is not allowed to walk into the workshops where ammunition is being made. He is restricted to the paved footpaths, from whence he can see the various artificers at work. The din of hammers, the movement of wheels, the rush of steam, and the roar of the furnace, is proof of the vast extent of the manufactures which are continually going on. All kinds of shot are cast here – grape, chain, canister, bullets, and cannon-balls. Rockets, percussion-caps, metal fusees, and stores of round shot and shell are accumulated to a vast extent, the two latter being piled up in pyramids to upwards of ten millions. There are store-rooms for saddlery and arms of every description, both ancient and modern; and a park of artillery numbering upwards of 30,000 pieces, which comprise the reserve from which the army, navy, garrisons, batteries, etc, are recruited. Sentries are stationed here and there to keep people in order, as there are great numbers of all classes constantly going through the arsenal. Not the least interesting, though melancholy, feature of the place is, the gangs of convicts chained together, and dragging heavily-laden trucks from one part of the yard to another. Some of these unhappy wretches have chains attached to their leg, and the expressions of their faces are as fierce as those of a hyena, while others look completely spirit-broken.
Nearly every kind of gun is made at Woolwich, from the light field-piece to the guns which form a siege-train. Every gun, after being cast, undergoes a proof process, the strength of heavy ordnance being tested by the fire proof. The guns being laid on the ground in front of a target, or butt, with their muzzles towards it, slightly elevated, they are loaded with the regulation proof charges, and fired by means of a galvanic battery, which is placed in a bomb-proof building, and the current of electricity conveyed to the tubes in the guns through copper wires. Each gun is then searched by a long rod having a number of steel springs at the end, each of which has a spike attached; these springs are released from a grasping ring when at the bottom of the barrel, in the same manner as a cork-drawer. Any flaw in the barrel is at once disturbed in passing the searcher up and down. The soundness of the metal itself is tested by what is called the water proof: a hollow, wooden plug, covered with leather, is fixed in the muzzle of the gun by chains, which pass round the trunnions and are connected with the main pipe of the waterworks. A pressure of about 50 pounds weight to the square inch is thus obtained, and water is forced into the gun barrel until it issues a continuous stream from the vent (touch-hole). A wooden plug is then inserted into the latter, and a few more strokes given by the engine. If any water has penetrated through the thinnest part (the neck), the metal is unsound. The next, and last, test is the sun proof. After two or three days, the bore, being supposed to be perfectly dry, is examined by reflecting the sun’s rays into it by means of a mirror, and if any part appears wet, it indicates a flaw. The sighting process is the last operation.
In the construction of carriages, wheels, etc, many men are constantly employed. The timber used is principally ash, elm, and oak; it is crosscut and planed, and all the holes for rivets, bolts, etc, are bored by machinery; but the various parts of the carriages are finished and put together by hand.
By taking the train from the arsenal station the visitor will easily escape passing through the dirty streets of Woolwich, which lie between the arsenal and the dockyard, and those who have not seen this latter magnificent establishment may spend a very agreeable hour or two. There are the enormous chimney-shaft – a landmark for miles; the engine-house; the saw-mills, with their marvellous machinery; the huge Nasmyth’s hammer, which can be made to crack a nutshell without injuring the kernel, or snap an iron bar like a rotten stick on the anvil. There, too, are the building slips, with the shipwrights hammering with an incessant din on the grand three-decker, piled up beam on beam, to which access is gained by inclined planes, reaching to the top of the factory-like structure. The yard is nearly a mile in length; the docks, the gunboats, the steel-plated floating batteries, the beautiful chapel built by Mr Scott, and a passing look at the craft on the Thames, will afford ample opportunity to indulge and gratify curiosity.
Leaving convicts and policemen, I now ascend the hill, on one side of which, among the trees, may be discerned the splendid new buildings of the hospital, and pass the barracks of the marines, capable of containing nearly 2000 men. A short walk farther, and I pass through a wicket-gate near the guardhouse, in front of which is the open common, with the Royal Military Academy for the cadets on the east, and crowned with the woods of Shooter’s Hill. To the left is the long range of the barracks of the Royal Artillery; while to the right is a park of artillery, gun-carriages, waggons, and limbers, divided by a road leading down to a pretty, picturesque valley, containing a small sheet of water, on which pontooning, passage of troops, diving, and transport of artillery are practised and carried out. Above it, on the opposite side, over the broken undulating ground, diversified by clumps of fir-trees, is seen the tent-like building known as the Rotunda, in front of which is an earthwork, green with turf, but having the dark muzzles of guns peeping through the grassy embrasures of the Repository ground. A monument to Sir Alexander Dickson stands in the enclosure, which is entered by a gate, and near by is a French cannon captured by Marlborough at Malplaquet, and many other specimens of the old style of ordnance. The Rotunda itself was removed from Cariton Gardens, where George the Fourth, then Prince Regent, entertained in it the allied sovereigns in 1814: it now contains models of fortifications, dockyards, every arm used by the artillery, and every conceivable specimen of bomb-ships, shields, kettle-drums, tilting lances, armour, all kinds of weapons, and all sorts of ordnance; trophies won by our soldiers in every quarter of the world; and a cinder that represents what was once fifty-six millions of one-pound notes burned by the Bank of England when they were called in.
The Royal Artillery is now in a high state of efficiency: the men are strong in their build, as well as the horses; no expense is spared by Government to obtain by competitive trials, and the employment of the most talented persons, the very best guns that can be manufactured.
The cavalry dépôts for regiments on service abroad are Maidstone and Canterbury, the former place being the more important of the two, because of the riding establishment being there. This establishment is kept up in order to give full effect to the only approved system of equitation which is in use throughout the whole of the cavalry service. The commanding officers are called upon from time to time to select certain non-commissioned officers and men, and to send them to the riding establishment at Maidstone, for the purpose of being thoroughly practised in horsemanship, and of being rendered competent, on returning to their regiments, to afford instruction and to maintain the system of uniformity in training both men and horses for active service. The selection of both men and horses for this important duty is made with the greatest care; and those men only who are remarkable for qualities constituting the good soldier and the active, intelligent dragoon, are detached upon this essential duty. They are in all cases unmarried men, and able to read and write. No unsound, inactive, or vicious horses are sent to Maidstone; the very best in the corps are generally detached for this duty. Upon the return of the parties to their regiments, they take their places in the ranks until the commanding officer sees an opportunity to encourage such as are favourably reported by the commandant of the riding establishment whilst under his instruction, by promoting them as opportunities occur, and making them assistants in the regimental riding-school. Thus a foundation is laid for promotion from the ranks to the position of riding-master, who ranks as a commissioned officer. It is always understood that no individual shall, upon any account whatever, succeed to this respectable position unless he can produce a certificate of perfect fitness both as to education, general character, sobriety, and a high degree of proficiency in the established system of horsemanship.
In order to prevent any men being sent to Maidstone who, from weakness of constitution or other cause, may not be fit for the duty of the riding-school, a medical examination is made into their fitness. In addition to the regular pay, a riding-master is entitled to the following fees: – For teaching young officers to ride, three guineas; and for training every horse into a charger, one guinea; and no officer is allowed to ride at field-drill a horse which the riding-master has not certified to the commanding officer as fit to be properly broken as a charger; and no officer is allowed to part with such horse without the commanding officer’s permission.
There are always two or more men from every cavalry regiment in the service at Maidstone. The recruits for the regiments in India, China, and the Cape are put through their drill with all possible despatch, both here and at Canterbury, and are generally considered proficient in about six months, after which they are drafted off in detachments to join the head-quarters of their corps on foreign service; and hundreds of them never return to their native land. I have, however, occasionally met with men who, after being discharged, from purchase or some other cause, have preferred to remain in India, the Cape, Canada, etc, until they have amassed sufficient means to return home and live in comparative comfort, like others of the same grade in society.
Chapter Twenty One
Excess of bodily exercise may render us wild and unmanageable, but excess of arts, science, and music, makes us faddled and effeminate. Only the right combination makes the soul wise and manly.
Plato.The difference between the walk of a cavalry and infantry soldier cannot fail to be noticed, even by a person the most indifferent to military matters. The gait of the dragoon is distinguished for its ease and elasticity over that of the foot soldier, which may be accounted for by the mounted exercise having the effect of suppling the loins and hips of a recruit in the first stages of drill, which seldom, if ever, becomes eradicated in after life, even though the man may leave the army after a short term of service. Horse-exercise brings every muscle of the body into play, and thereby imparts to the proper method of walking, attained by infantry drill, an amount of ease and grace never seen in our infantry soldiers.
As I shall probably write a series of articles on horsemanship in a separate form, I shall, for the present, confine my remarks to the manner in which both cavalry and infantry soldiers are taught to throw off that lounging, shuffling style of walking, into which many young gentlemen fall, through habits of indifference and carelessness, which grow with their growth until the limbs become set and modelled with age, so that no amount of drill or gymnastic exercise can alter or improve the figure.
Volunteering has now become all the fashion; every high-spirited boy looks forward with hope to the time when he is big enough and old enough to join his companions in some town or provincial volunteer corps, and shoulder the rifle. Now, I am not particularly au-fait at the new rifle practice, and therefore I shall not attempt to forestall the many effective drill sergeants appointed to the duty of instructing their companies of “civilian soldiers,” but a few remarks in reference to the position-drill, without arms – to which both the cavalry and infantry recruit is first subjected on donning his uniform – may be useful and probably interesting to my young readers. The practice of the following instructions, either in schools or at the homes of those boys who wish to expand their chest and develop their figure as they progress towards the age of adults, by giving them the general “set-up” and bearing of the soldier without any of his stiffness or constraint, which, however necessary it may be for the ranks, would certainly detract from the appearance of the thorough gentleman on the promenade or in the ball-room.
The first instruction conveyed to a recruit at drill is to stand straight and keep his head up. But as the simple command to do this would only cause him to endeavour to comply in his own particular way, he must be instructed in detail at first, as one movement involves many others, which, when he becomes perfect, can scarcely be distinguished while changing position. In order to stand in the proper position at “attention,” the heels must be in a line with each other and close together, the knees straight, the toes a little turned out so that the feet may form an angle of about sixty degrees, the arms must hang near the body, the little finger touching the thighs, and the thumbs placed as far back as the seams of the trousers; the elbows and shoulders must be kept back, the belly rather drawn in, and the chest advanced, but without stiffness or awkward constraint; the body must be upright, but inclining forward so that the weight of it principally bears on the fore part of the feet; the head must be erect, but dignified and without stiffness or the appearance of a forced attitude. The position in which a soldier moves also determines that in which he should stand still, and too many methods cannot be used to render the recruit supple and easy in his walk, so as to banish the air of the rustic; but that excess of setting up which stiffens the body to such an extent, that a person appears as if he had swallowed a poker, is contrary to every true principle on which the movement of the human body ought to be regulated, and should therefore be carefully avoided. On the instructor giving the command “stand at ease,” the recruit draws back his right foot about six inches, and the greatest part of the weight of the body bears upon it, the left knee is a little bent, the hands are brought together before the body the left being locked in the right, but the shoulders must be kept back, the head square to the front, and the whole attitude without constraint or stiffness. On the word “attention,” the hands are to fall smartly down the outside of the thighs, the right heel must be brought up in a line with the left, and the proper, easy, unconstrained position of a soldier and a gentleman immediately resumed.
The above instructions may, by a slight alteration, be applicable to boys or adults, who, having no taste for a military life or the inseparable drill connected with a soldier’s duty, may, nevertheless, wish to attain that ease and grace of movement which ever distinguish the soldier from the undrilled civilian. For instance, the majority of civilians, whether gentlemen or rustics, both stand and walk on their heels; very many, from habit alone, turn their toes in while walking, and, when either standing or walking in their best position, they push out the belly in place of drawing it in and advancing the chest. When a boy is told to hold his head up, he simply throws it back by raising his chin and jerking his neck, in place of throwing back his shoulders, pushing forward his chest, and drawing back his chin, which three movements, all combined in one, at once has the desired effect of improving the figure, raising the head, and imparting dignity to the whole upper part of the body. In the instruction of boys or adults, not intended to become soldiers, it is not necessary that the heels should be placed close together, or the hands to touch the trousers when standing at attention as above directed, but a similarity of position should be adopted, if the rule is not strictly adhered to. In obeying the command “eyes right” or “eyes left,” the soldier is required to look to either side with the slightest possible turn of the head. These motions are used in the dressing or keeping in line in the wheeling of divisions, and particular attention is necessary to be paid in the several turnings of the eyes to prevent the soldier from moving his body, which should be preserved in a position perfectly square to the front. If a civilian, ignorant of military drill, were told to look to his right or left, he would either give his neck a sharp twist, or turn his whole body in the direction indicated.
