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SOLDIERS AND SAILORS.

LONDON:

S. & J. Bentley, Wilson, and Fley,

Bangor House, Shoe Lane.

TIPPOO SAIB.

SOLDIERS AND SAILORS;
OR,
ANECDOTES, DETAILS, AND RECOLLECTIONS OF NAVAL AND MILITARY LIFE,
AS RELATED TO HIS NEPHEWS, BY
AN OLD OFFICER.

WITH MORE THAN FIFTY ENGRAVINGS ON WOOD, FROM DESIGNS BY JOHN GILBERT.

LONDON:

JOHN HARRIS, ST. PAUL’S CHURCH-YARD.

1842.

CONTENTS.

SOLDIERS AND SAILORS.

CHAPTER I.

Soldiers and Sailors.—Recruiting Sergeant, Officer and Jack-tar.—Generals and Admirals.—Which is the braver, the Red Coat or the Blue Jacket?—Cavalry and Infantry.—Engineers, Artillery, and Marines.—Not all sunshine with Soldiers and Sailors.—The old Soldier.—Different opinions about war.—When are Sailors most steady?—A standing rule for a Soldier.

“Well, boys, though I am your uncle, so busy has my life been, that I have seen but very little of you. During my present visit we shall become better acquainted with each other. You want to hear about soldiers and sailors. You have seen privates on parade, a recruiting sergeant with stripes on his arm, and an officer with epaulettes on his shoulder. You have seen, too, a jolly Jack-tar just come home from a cruise, rigged out in his holiday clothes, check shirt, blue jacket, and white trousers. You have read, perhaps, a little about engagements and sea-fights, and remember the names of a few famous generals and admirals, and now you want to hear more about soldiers and sailors. You shall know all that I can tell you; but, mind! let us have no confusion. Do not all of you ask me questions at once! Speak one at a time, or, if you like it better, let one of you be spokesman for the rest. You shall have all the information that I can give you.”

“Thank you!—thank you, uncle! That will be the very thing; for we know that you can tell us a great deal.”

“I am, as you know, neither commander-in-chief of the army, nor lord high admiral of the navy, nor do I see any likelihood at present of my being appointed either the one or the other; but having seen a good deal of the land and sea-service, and noticed the habits and conduct of men, from the raw recruit to the general officer;—from the sailor before the mast to the ‘Red Flag at the Fore,’—I must have been dull indeed to have picked up nothing. It becomes no man to be vain of his knowledge, and, therefore, I will not boast of mine; but ask me what you will, and I will answer to the best of my ability.”

“Please to tell us which are the bravest men, soldiers or sailors.”

“The bravest! That is a puzzling question, which the seven wise men of Greece, were they here, could not answer. Never yet did a red-coat go where a blue-jacket was afraid to follow, nor a son of Neptune brave a danger that a son of Mars would not, willingly, have faced before him. Weigh one golden sovereign against another in a pair of scales, and they will not give a more even balance than the bravery of a soldier weighed against that of a sailor.”

“How many kinds of soldiers are there?—for some are very different to others.”

“Why, let me see, in the cavalry there are life-guards, horse-guards, dragoon-guards, heavy dragoons, light dragoons, lancers and hussars; and in the infantry there are foot-guards, infantry of the line, light troops, fusiliers, highlanders, riflemen, and the staff-corps. I have said nothing of the engineers and artillery, nor indeed of the marines, who have more to do with the navy than the army.”

“They say that one Englishman can beat ten Frenchmen. Is it true?”

“Not a word of truth in it. A brave man is a match for a brave man of the same size all the world over, if he have equal skill. It is skill more than strength that enables one man to overcome another, and tactics more than bravery, (though both are necessary,) that enable an army or a fleet to obtain a victory. I will try to make this clear to you before I have done.”

“Now do tell us, uncle, all about soldiers and sailors, from the beginning to the end.”

“That would take me a month to do. I mean to give you anecdotes in abundance about military and naval commanders, that you may see the advantage of knowledge and skill; at the same time I will try to mingle with them many details that will be interesting to you, of the navy and the army.”

“Yes! That will be a good plan. Now for a little about soldiers.”

“If I were giving you my own history, I might be tempted to dwell on my own exploits, but as that is not the case I shall try to keep close to my subject,—Soldiers and Sailors. When a recruit is enlisted and sworn in before a magistrate he is put into the awkward squad for a time, and then he enters the ranks. He has much to learn before he becomes a thorough soldier, from standing at ease to the charge; from the single file to the battle array.”

“The sergeant must have something to do with the recruits that come from the plough-tail?”

“Indeed he has, but he very soon effects a change in their appearance. The first thing the recruit has to learn is to stand in a proper position. Then come facing, stepping, and marching, filing, wheeling, and with the manual and platoon exercise, forming; and, if in the cavalry, saddling, bridling, mounting, riding, and leaping, with the manœuvres of troops and squadrons, companies, battalions and regiments. What with carbine and pistol exercise, sword exercise and lance exercise, with parade, mounting guard, and keeping accoutrements, and perhaps, a horse in order, a soldier has many duties to perform.”

“And have sailors as much to do as soldiers?”

“Ay, that they have, and every change of wind brings them a change of duty. For some time I was in the marines, and saw a good deal of the wooden walls of old England. Officers, seamen, ordinary men, servants and boys, were all alive from stem to stern; from keel to sky-scrapers all things were in order. There were no skulkers among the blue-jackets. Everything was attended to; the decks were swabbed, the anchor weighed, the yards manned, the sails reefed, and the decks cleared for action.”

“Sailors seem to work hard and play hard then, for no people enjoy themselves more when they are away from their ship.”

“True. They work hard, play hard, and fight hard; but, say what you will, it is not all sunshine with soldiers and sailors. A soldier, on parade or on a review day, looks like a man of leisure, and in time of peace he is not overdone with his duty; but see him in war, marching through miry roads, panting with heat or numbed with cold, up early and late, sleeping on the bare ground in his wet clothes:—hunger pinches him, fatigue wears him, and the stormy fight with all its dangers awaits him,—yet, on he goes without a murmur.

“Neither does honest Jack lead a life of ease, or sleep upon roses. See him in the north, when the rigging of his ship is hung with icicles; in the east and west, when the deck is almost as hot as a baker’s oven; holding his weary midnight watch in the calm, and reefing the fluttering sail in the storm.

‘Jack never despairs—see, his bosom ne’er quivers

Though hurricanes cause every timber to start;

The tempest may rend a proud vessel to shivers,

But nothing can conquer a firm British heart.’

“Waves may dash and lightnings flash, but Jack flinches not from his duty. Aloft, below, at the mast-head or in the cockpit, he endures dangers and pain, and stands by his gun in the roar of the battle!”

“A great deal may be said about soldiers and sailors?”

“Yes,—and they have generally a great deal to say about themselves: the one fighting his battles over again, and the other spinning his yarns about cruises and privateering, and cutting out ships, and the winds blowing great guns in the Bay of Biscay. Soldiers are soldiers everywhere, and sailors keep up their character for courage, whether on the sea or in harbour, in a storm or a calm, in a battle or a breeze.”

“What was it that made you list for a soldier?”

“A thoughtless prank, my lads. In my youthful days I was fond of reading of knights armed cap-à-piè, mounted on fiery steeds,—lance in the rest, helmet on the head, vambrace on the arm, cuirass on the breast, cuisses on the thighs, greaves on the legs, and sabatynes on the feet. I loved to read, too, of ancient arms, clubs and slings, bows and arrows, swords, falchions, javelins, maces, battle-axes and battering-rams; and the portable arms when gunpowder came into use,—hand-gun, arquebus, haquebut, wheel-lock, caliver, petronel, dag, dragon and hand-mortar;—and these things led me on to a soldier’s life.”

“Ay, ay! Like us, you wanted to know everything.”

“Very true. My curiosity was excited, and I wished to hear all I could about modern arms, from the poniard to the pike, from the cutlass to the carbine, from the hand-grenade to the Congreve rocket, from the six-pounder to the big brass cannon at Bejapoor in Hindoostan, and from the horse-pistol in the houlster of a dragoon to the monster mortar used at the siege of Antwerp.”

“And we wish to hear all about these things, too.”

“There was another circumstance, too, that did much towards leading me into the army. I chanced to form an acquaintance with an old soldier who knew everything about fortification, engineering, and gunnery. He had had his share of sieges and storming-parties, and seemed as familiar with trenches, ditches, fascines and scaling-ladders, as a schoolboy is with his peg-top and his kite. He used to describe to me the whole affair, from first breaking ground to the taking of a garrison, the glacis, scarps, and counter-scarps, ramparts, lunettes, bastions, batteries and citadel.”

“No wonder that you should listen to a man like him.”

“He was, indeed, wondrously interesting, and we talked together by the hour of Soldiers and Sailors. ‘Forward,’ and ‘Off she goes,’ were our mottoes. We advanced in double quick time with the red-coats, and only halted in a case of necessity. We shared the birth of honest Jack when buffeted on the billows, nor left him till he put into harbour, mingled his prize-money with his pig-tail tobacco, and sang ‘Britannia rules the waves.’”

“Did the old soldier describe a battle to you?”

“He did, and many of them, too. The plan of an engagement was unknown to me, and I had formed strange notions of one army attacking another. He explained to me the movements of the advanced guard, the main body, the wings, the reserve, and the artillery; and discoursed freely of sentinels, vedettes, patrols, piquets, and the general arrangements of an army in the field.”

“He would be quite at home there!”

“Such conversation as this led me to read of celebrated military and naval commanders, with the battles they had fought, and the victories they had won. Of Frederick the Great, of Prussia; Charles of Sweden; Peter the Great, of Russia; Buonaparte of France; and Marlborough and Wellington of England; with Hawkins, Drake, Frobisher, Rodney, Howe, Duncan and Nelson. At that time I knew nothing, or next to nothing, of a sea-fight, of the order of battle, of ships taking their stations, of signals, and the several duties of officers and men during the action; and of broadsides, raking, and boarding; but since then I have picked up some information on most of these points.”

“That old soldier must have known a great deal!”

“He did know a great deal, for he had mingled among sailors as well as soldiers, so that he could talk freely of actions, attacks, and attempts, battles, blockades, and bombardments, descents and defeats, engagements and expeditions, invasions, reductions, sea-fights and storms, sieges, surprises, skirmishes, repulses, and explosions.”

“We do not wonder at your having entered the army, but a battle must be a terrible thing.”

“That is true, sure enough. It is one thing to hear or to read of a battle, and another to fight in the ranks. War is no child’s play, as every one knows who has seen service. There are different opinions about war: one man sees in it nothing but what is honourable and glorious; another maintains that it is in no case to be justified. It is not for me to decide between the two, seeing that I agree with neither, for while on the one hand I hold it wrong to plunge into war on light grounds when it can be avoided, or when it inflicts a greater evil than it undertakes to remove; on the other, I cannot see how war can be always evaded. If to oppress others be wrong, to allow ourselves to be oppressed can hardly be right; and though conquest and national glory will not justify those who draw the sword, yet, as a nation, we must be other than we are before we could give up what is dearer than life without an effort to defend it. However, my object is not to turn your heads with false notions of honour and glory, that you may long to become Wellingtons and Nelsons, but simply to give, according to your desire, what information I can about soldiers and sailors, and to explain to you the way in which they carry on war.”

“Ay, those are the very things! We want to know everything about them. We saw a sailor yesterday; and the road seemed hardly broad enough for him, he reeled about so much from one side to the other.”

“Jack-tars too often fall into this error; they are too often half-seas-over before they are out of port, and they are usually the most steady when being tossed about on the ocean.”

“That sounds comical, however.”

“Perhaps it does, but I wish to be pointed in my remarks, that there may be some likelihood of your remembering what I say. The army, from the commander-in-chief to the men in the ranks, should aim at respectability. A general should never be without a good private character, and a private should be generally acknowledged as a man of courage and sobriety. As a standing rule, a soldier under arms should not be above doing his duty: though he wears a red coat he must be a true blue, and peacefully preserve, in every situation, the articles of war.”

CHAPTER II.

A general rule for the conduct of a good Soldier.—The beginning of Sailors.—The origin of the British Army.—The oldest regiment in the service.—Description of the Life Guards.—British Soldiers and Sailors the best in the world.—The Flemish brig and the Deal galley.—The French sloop and the British fisherman.—The Black Trumpeter and the bold Soldier.—A Soldier should attend to his own duty.

“Bear in mind, boys, that I shall tell you of many places where I have never been, and of battles that I have never seen. Much have I talked with old soldiers and sailors in my time and much have they told me. It may happen that in speaking of ships I may be, now and then, ‘out of my reckoning,’ and a little ‘disorderly’ at times, in describing things belonging to the army, for we are all of us liable to commit mistakes, and no doubt I make as many as other people.”

“The more you tell us of the army and navy the better.”

“Well, I will do my best for you. Let me here give you one of my general rules for the conduct of a good soldier. The advanced guard should fall back from every dishonourable action, and every rear-rank man should set a bold front against insubordination.”

“Yes, that is a capital rule. Please now to tell us what was the very beginning of soldiers and sailors?”

“That would puzzle the horse-guards and the Admiralty to tell you. Sailors I suppose began with ships; and father Noah, who commanded the good ship the Ark, was the first sailor that I ever heard of. As to soldiers, we must confine ourselves to our own country, for we know very little about the soldiers of the earliest nations of the world.”

“Please to tell us, then, the beginning of English soldiers?”

“We must go back to the time when the Romans invaded England. The British soldier was then rude in discipline and dress, but intrepidity marked his every action, as it does now. As the Roman soldiers descended from their ships the undaunted Britons rushed into the sea to attack them, and the flower of Cæsar’s troops were astonished and fear-struck by their fierce and dauntless bearing.”

“Had they red coats and guns, as they have now?”

“No! no! their dress was of a very different kind: and the trade of gun-making was unknown among them. Their arms were clubs, short swords, and spears. Their cavalry had chariots, to the axles of which were fastened sharp pieces of iron, resembling scythe-blades; and their infantry went to war in long vehicles much like our waggons, from which they alighted and fought on foot, jumping into them again, and driving off, when it suited their purpose.”

“Had we any sailors at that time?”

“I fancy not: if we had they must have been very different to what British sailors are now, or they would have met their invaders on the deep, and not have allowed them to set their feet on the shores of old England unmolested. Offa, one of the Saxon kings, had a fleet, and King Alfred invited over from abroad ship-builders, to build vessels, and mariners to man them. The ships were, however, comparatively small. In the time of Henry VIII., and especially in that of Elizabeth, the British navy became formidable.”

“And when did soldiers begin to dress as they do now, and to have guns, and pistols, and cannon?”

“These things were brought about by degrees. I have read that the soldiers of the Anglo-Saxons were mostly foot-soldiers, though some of them fought on horseback; but when William the Conqueror came, soldiers were mostly cavalry. Under the feudal system, if a man held land to a certain amount, called a ‘knight’s fee,’ he was obliged to serve the crown a period of forty days every year at his own expense, finding a horse, a helmet, a coat of mail, a shield, and a lance. After that, spear-men, battle-axe men, cross-bow men, and archers made their appearance; but when gunpowder was found out, it made a wonderful difference in the army.”

“No doubt it did. Bows and arrows would not do against guns and cannon.”

“At first fire-arms were very imperfectly made, and then British bowmen, being strong, brave, and skilful, were very formidable; but the bravest archers that ever drew an arrow to the head would make a poor stand now against British soldiers. The Artillery Company of London had once a company of bowmen attached to them, but they have long since put down the bow, and taken up the musket.”

“All boys remember about Robin Hood, and his merry men in Nottingham Forest; and about William Tell, the Swiss archer, shooting the apple off his son’s head.”

“No doubt they do. At the battle of Cressy, in France, two thousand British bowmen drew their shafts against as many French bowmen. But now for the beginning of the British army.”

“Ay, now for the British army!”

“The army began with the guards that attended the king, though their weapons and uniform were very different to those that the household troops now use and wear. Whatever armed attendants monarchs may have had around their persons from the earliest times, there was no regular body of armed men appointed as guards till the reign of Richard the First. Richard instituted a body of twenty-four archers, and called them the ‘sergeants-at-arms.’ Their duty was to keep watch round the tent of the king, clad in complete armour with a bow, arrows, and a sword. Henry VII. established, in 1485, a band of fifty archers, all chosen men, to attend him; they were called ‘Yeomen of the Guard.’ This body still forms part of the royal establishment.”

“The yeomen of the guard hardly look like soldiers.”

“True: the commencement of the present regular army may be said to be the corps of life-guards established by King Charles II. at the Restoration. To these he added a regiment of horse-guards, with two regiments of foot-guards. A regiment of foot-guards was raised also in Scotland. These corps are what are usually called the British household troops; and the additions of horse and foot soldiers since made, constitute the British army as it exists at the present day.”

“The guards, then, are the oldest regiment of any soldiers we have?”

“They are. In the year 1679 the corps of life-guards were thus described:—‘The guards of horse—which the Spaniards call guardes de á caballo; the French, guardes du corps; the Germans, leibguarde; and we, life-guards, that is the guards of the King’s body—do consist of six hundred horsemen, well armed and equipped; and are, for the most part, reformed officers, and young gentlemen of very considerable families, who are there made fit for military commands. They are divided into three troops, viz. the King’s troops, distinguished by their blue ribbons and carbine belts, their red hooses and houlster caps, embroidered with his Majesty’s cypher and crown. The Queen’s troop, by green ribbons, carbine belts covered with green velvet and gold lace; also green hooses and houlster caps, embroidered with the same cypher and crown. And the duke’s troop, by yellow ribbons and carbine belts, and yellow hooses, embroidered as the others. In each of which troops are two hundred gentlemen, besides officers. There are four gentlemen who command as officers, but have no commissions, viz. sub-corporals or sub-brigadiers.’ The ranks of the life-guards are not at the present time recruited with sons of the higher classes, aspiring to commissions, but with men of good repute, generally sons of persons in a respectable sphere of life.”

“The life-guards are fine looking fellows!”

“In 1716, when George I. visited Hanover, the Prince of Wales, who was then left guardian of the kingdom, reviewed the brigade of life and horse-grenadier-guards, in Hyde Park, November 21st, when he declared them to be one of the finest bodies of men in person, appearance, and exercise that the world had ever produced. A life-guardsman, as he is seen at the Horse Guards at the present time, is indeed an imposing sight. We must not, however, be led astray by the size of men, nor by their gay regimentals. Many a foot-soldier in his coarse grey great-coat, and his knapsack on his back, has a heart in his bosom as brave as that of a life-guardsman!”

“Ay! a little man may be quite as brave as a big man.”

“I have somewhere heard the remark that ‘all great men are little men,’ but there is not much truth in it, though many great military commanders have been of small stature: Alexander the Great, and Napoleon Buonaparte among them. The body, after all, let its stature be what it may, is of little value compared to the mind. The one is the leathern scabbard, the other the finely tempered sword. The poet has well expressed himself:

‘Were I so tall to reach the pole,

Or grasp the ocean with my span,

I must be measured by my soul;—

The mind’s the standard of the man!’

“In a military paper that I have seen, the regulation given by King Charles II. runs thus:—‘Each horseman to have for his defensive arms, back, breast, and pot; and for his offensive arms, a sword, and a case of pistolls, the barrels whereof are not to be under foorteen inches in length; and each trooper of our guards to have a carbine, besides the aforesaid arms. And the foote do haue each souldier a sword, and each pikeman a pike of sixteen foote long, and not under; and each musquetteer a musquet, with a collar of bandaliers, the barrels of which musquet to be about foor foote long, and to conteine a bullet, foorteen of which shall weigh a pound weight.’”

“How very particularly they are described!”

“When the war with Holland broke out in 1672, a regiment of dragoons was raised, when the soldiers therein were ordered to carry halbards, pistolls with holsters, matchlock, musquet, a collar of bandaliers, and one bayonet or ‘great knife.’ The arms of dragoons in 1687, (James II.’s reign,) were, snap-hanse-musquets, strapt with bright barrels of three foote eight inches long, cartouch boxes, bayonets, granado pouches, buckets, and hammer-hatchets.”

“They called a bayonet, then, a great knife?”

“They did. Since then, regiment has been added to regiment, till the army has arrived at its present state. It is now, perhaps, about a hundred and twenty thousand strong, and is spread over Great Britain, Ireland, and our possessions in other quarters of the Globe—undoubtedly the first soldiers in the world.”

“Then we have got the best soldiers and the best sailors?”

“Indeed we have! I believe there are neither sailors nor soldiers in any quarter of the world that would be a match for an equal number of British blue-jackets and red-coats. If ever you should go on board a King’s ship you will be surprised at the order and discipline that prevail, from the figure-head to the rudder, from the main-mast head to the hold. Discipline is everything in the army and navy, and I shall give you, by and by, some striking instances that set forth its use and abuse.”

“What daring fellows sailors are!”

“If British sailors are daring in battle, they are equally so in braving all dangers to save the lives of others. A Flemish brig in a heavy gale struck on a shoal, to windward of Ostend harbour, and the crew clung to the rigging for safety, as the vessel was fast going to pieces. Several Flemish boats attempted to get to the wreck in vain, and the crew seemed doomed to destruction. It happened, however, that a Deal galley was in the harbour, and the little band of daring tars aboard her were somewhat more accustomed to such scenes. They launched their light bark, and though every sea hid them from view, and every breaker covered them with foam, they persevered, undiscouraged by repeated failures, until they reached the wreck, and saved every man that was found in her.”

“Noble! noble! It is pleasant to hear of such things! It makes us think better of sailors.”

“Some time ago a French sloop was stranded near the port of Dover, when some English fishermen, who are half sailors, directly put off for the sloop and rendered effectual service. ‘Your opposite neighbours, the French,’ said a spectator afterwards, ‘are not quite so ready to help you.’ ‘Maybe not,’ replied the fisherman; ‘maybe not; but we do our duty to the unfortunate without troubling ourselves about that matter. An English seaman don’t learn his manners on the deck of a French ship.’”

“Well done, fisherman!”

“Presence of mind and intrepidity are qualities very common among British soldiers and sailors. I will give you an anecdote that I read the other day, of a soldier. ‘When Buonaparte was preparing his flotillas, and his soldiers, to invade Old England, we expected every day to hear of his being at sea, so we all kept ready at the barracks, to act at a moment’s warning. One night, when we were snugly tucked up in bed, news came suddenly, that the French had landed. One of our trumpeters was a black, a tall strapping fellow, more than six feet high, and he was so frightened that when he took up his trumpet to sound an alarm, he let it fall from his hand and fainted away. A bold fellow, who happened at the time to be at his elbow, snatched up the trumpet from the ground, and blew a blast that made the barracks and the barrack-yard ring again. Up we jumped, hurried on our clothes, ran to the stables, leaped on our horses, and in eight minutes and a half every man of us was drawn up in the barrack-yard ready for action.’”

“The poor black must have been half frightened out of his senses.”

“He certainly was; and it was all very well that, being unable to do his duty, another was ready to do it for him. On common occasions, however, a soldier should attend to his own duty, and not intermeddle with that of his comrades. A gunner may prove himself a good swordsman, a riding-master may be a capital walker, and a foot-soldier may know how to manage a horse, but let each keep to his own duty. It would be bad indeed for a drummer to be his own trumpeter, and still worse for a fifer to be drummed out of his regiment for bad conduct.”

CHAPTER III.

British Sailors.—A hearty cheer.—Seamen are sad clumsy fellows at some things.—The pretended sailor.—Jack in the wherry.—A squall.—The chain cable.—The sailor’s marriage.—The arrival.—Banns.—Disappointment.—Doctors’ Commons.—License.—The church gates.—The robing-room.—The ceremony.—The Prayer Book.—The Bible.—Jack happy.

“What handy and hearty fellows sailors are, uncle; we have just seen one, and he gave us such a hearty cheer!”

“It has been said, that a British sailor can only give free vent to his feelings by a hearty cheer. It is his mode of thanksgiving for a benefit received; with a cheer he honours his friend, defies his enemy, and proclaims a victory. Sailors may be hearty, but how do you make them out to be handy? In many things they are the clumsiest fellows in the world.”

“Do you say so! What are they clumsy in doing?”

“Oh! in things without number. In the first place, they are bad hands at passing by a messmate in distress without relieving him; then they know nothing about running away from danger; you cannot teach them, any how, to forget an old friend; and they are the awkwardest fellows in the world in striking their colours when alongside an enemy.”

“You are right! you are right, uncle. About half an hour ago a sailor came up to us, and said that ‘Poor Jack’ was ‘in shallow water,’ and that, having nothing in his ‘bread-room,’ he would let us have a real India silk handkerchief for little or nothing.”

“And did you buy his handkerchief of him?”

“No, uncle. But we were so pleased with what he told us of his cruises, and battles, and shipwrecks, that we gave him all the money we had.”

“Ay, well, that would answer his purpose quite as well. It is possible that you may have fallen in with a ‘true blue,’ but I am very doubtful. It was but last week that a fellow accosted me with the old story about a ‘King’s ship.’ ‘The winds blowing great guns in the Bay of Biscay, O!’ ‘breakers ahead!’ a ‘lee shore and a wreck!’ but he had stumbled on a Tartar; for a few questions about sea affairs made him look all manner of ways at once, and it was a clear case that he would have willingly given up a part of his ill-gotten prize-money to have secured a retreat. At first I used him tenderly, treating him with only a few points of the compass backwards—north-by-west, north-north-west, north-west-by-north, north-west, north-west-by-west, and west-north-west. This was, as I well knew, all Dutch to him. Seeing him look rather queerish, I opened upon him with my ‘tiller-ropes,’ ‘gun-tackle,’ ‘mizzen-jears,’ ‘jib-halyard,’ ‘fore-braces,’ ‘deep-sea-line-blocks,’ ‘top-sail-sheet-bits,’ ‘main-top bow-lines,’ and ‘ringtail-booms,’ until he looked as frightened as if I had been a wild man of the woods. At last, seeing that he was preparing to scud before the wind, I poured in a broadside of ‘Brail up and haul down the main-top-mast stay-sail!’ ‘Bear a hand, my hearty!’ ‘Man well the lee-brail, and down haul!’ ‘Gather in the slack o’ the weather brail!’ ‘Let go the halyards!’ ‘Ease off the sheet!’ ‘Haul down, and brail up briskly!’ ‘There! let go the tack, and stop the sail to the lee-fore-rigging!’ ‘What! are you off? then up all hammocks!’ ‘Prepare for action!’ ‘Fire to the larboard!’ And away ran the rogue, forgetting how he had been wounded by a nine-pounder, as nimbly as though a press-gang had been at his heels.”

“It served him right, uncle! that it did.”

“A true-hearted sailor would rather take in a reef of the main-top-sail in a hurricane than skulk about in such a manner under false colours.

“Some time since a Jack-tar, seated in a wherry, was rowed up the river Thames, against wind and tide. He had just returned from India; and, sailor-like, was industriously disposed to get rid of his spare cash. He had a pipe in his mouth, and the clouds of smoke poured forth showed that the smoker was in earnest; while with his right hand he flourished a flexible bamboo. Behind him was a large shaggy Newfoundland dog, who appeared as well pleased as Jack himself. Before him sat a musician, with a huge drum and pandean pipes, playing away with all his power.

“As Jack passed the vessels in the river, and the wharfs, and the drinking-rooms overlooking the water, he was cheered continually. When he arrived at St. Katherine’s Docks he quitted the wherry, and hopped along on his real leg, for his other was a wooden one, as nimbly as a kangaroo, while the spectators, assembled to witness his landing, greeted him with a cheer. Jack and the Newfoundlander were soon stowed in a coach; the musician occupied the roof, striking up ‘Rule Britannia!’ and the crowd loudly cheered as Jack drove off, waving his hat good-humouredly from the coach window. What became of Jack afterwards is not known; but it is easy to imagine, that at the end of a few days’ cruise he would not have a single shot in his locker.”

“Then he would be off to sea again?”

“No doubt he would. Whether at sea or on land, seamen seldom keep out of squalls long together.”

“What is the real meaning of a squall?”

“A squall is a violent gust of wind, that comes on a ship suddenly, and sometimes does a great deal of mischief in a very little time. There are parts of the world where you are more liable to them than in others. The first time that I was in a squall in the Mediterranean it put the surprise upon me. There was a small black cloud to windward in the south, but I should have thought little of it, had not a bluff old tar pointed to it and said, ‘There’s a capful, my hearty.’ What he said was true enough, and we had it in quick time too. The course of the ship was altered, to scud before what was coming, and the hands went aloft to take in sail. By this time the cloud had spread and neared us, and all at once, without warning, the squall came. The sheets and ropes cracked and snapped in the wind, the fore-sail was torn to ribands, the rain fell like a torrent, and away went the ship, running almost gunwale down in the water. But if the squall came without notice, it quitted us without notice, for in half an hour the sky was clear, the wind down, and the ship all in order, making her way through the waves.”

“When a squall comes on, sailors should get out their anchors, and the strongest cables they have, to keep the ship steady.”

“The cables must be very long, boys, to enable them to anchor in the middle of the Mediterranean. Perhaps you have never read the account given by Captain Hall, of attempting to anchor in deep water with a chain cable!”

“No, never! Please to tell us all about it.”

“I have it at hand here, and will read it to you. He says, ‘The chain cable is difficult of management in deep water; that is to say, when the soundings are more than twenty or twenty-five fathoms. Nothing is so easy as getting the anchor to the bottom in such cases; it is the facilis descensus with a vengeance! But when the anchor is to be pulled up again, then comes the tug. I once let go my anchor, with a chain cable bent to it, in forty-five fathoms, without having calculated on the probable effects of the momentum. Though the cable was bitted, all the stoppers snapped like packthread; and the anchor, not content with shooting to the bottom with an accelerated velocity, drew after it more than a hundred fathoms of chain, in such fearful style that we thought the poor ship must have been shaken to pieces. The noise was like that of rattling thunder, and so loud that it was impossible to hear a word; indeed it was even difficult to speak, from the excessive tremour caused by the rapid and violent passage of the links, as the chain leaped, or rather flew up the hatchway, flashing round the bits, and giving out sparks like a fire-work. Finally, it tore its way out at the hawse-hole, till the whole cable had probably piled itself on the anchor in a pyramid of iron at the bottom of the sea. The inner end of the cable had, of course, been securely shackled round the heel of the main-mast, but the jerk with which it was brought up made the ship shake from end to end as if she had bumped on a rock; and every one fully expected to see the links fly in pieces about the deck, like chain-shot fired from a cannon. It cost not many seconds of time for the cable to run out, but it occupied several hours of hard labour to heave it in again. The ordinary power of the capstan, full manned, scarcely stirred it; and at the last, when to the weight of chain hanging from the bows there came to be added that of the anchor, it was necessary to apply purchase upon purchase in order to drag the ponderous mass once more to the bows.’”

“How it must have frightened them when the anchor and chain cable ran out in that way!”

“British tars are not very soon frightened, though I dare say that it made them look about them. If you are in the mood to listen to a laughable story, I can tell you a very curious tale of a sailor’s marriage that happened some time since. It was told me a few days after the ceremony.”

“Can you? Please to begin it at once. Please do!”

“Well, then, you shall have it without delay, as nearly as I can remember, in the language in which it was related to me. That the story has been a little embellished there can be no doubt.

“Some years ago, a certain church in the metropolis stood in need of repair; and the bishop gave order that such marriages only should be solemnized therein as had been, before commencing the repairs, proposed by banns three times, but that in cases where the banns had not been put up three times, the marriages should be deferred until they had been regularly proposed at a neighbouring church, recently erected. No wonder that this arrangement occasioned some sad disappointments.”

“Ay, that would disappoint those that came to the church to be married, and could not.”

“On Monday morning a jolly Jack-tar hove in sight, rigged out excellently; under his convoy was his sweetheart Poll, who bore down gallantly, her sky-scrapers fluttering in the wind. After a little heeling to larboard and starboard on the part of Jack, he came with Poll into safe moorings, entering the church door under a press of sail.”

“We can just fancy that we see them.”

“As Poll stood up the middle aisle, with her pendants flying, she seemed a prize fit for an admiral, and Jack himself was as right and tight a bit of craft as could be seen on this side the Channel. Jack was not long in hailing Mr. Parson, and in giving him to understand that he was bound for Cape Matrimony!”

“That’s so like a sailor.”

“On looking over the banns-book, however, the worthy minister discovered that Jack’s marriage had been proposed twice at that church, and once at the new church, and, therefore, in conformity with the order of the bishop, the banns had to be put up twice more in the new church before the marriage could be solemnized.”

“What did the sailor say to that?”

“No sooner was this made intelligible to Jack than he began to overhaul the minister with a little of his old-fashioned lingo. ‘Wait a fortnight, Mr. Parson! No that I won’t for the West Indies; so you may just as well give over your palavering, and pick up your book. I came here to be spliced, and spliced I’ll be. Wait a fortnight! that’s a good un! Why, haven’t we made signals for three Sundays? how long would you keep us cruising about, while you are in snug quarters? The long and the short of it is this: Poll and me have come here to be spliced, and we’ll wait a fortnight for nobody.’”

“The sailor spoke his mind pretty freely, however.”

“The minister, knowing the free habits of sailors, bore Jack’s observations with great good humour, but told him it was utterly impossible to marry him. ‘I am sorry for it,’ said he, ‘but if you were to give me the navy of England I could not marry you.’ This remark was a broadside that almost laid Jack on his beam-ends, but he plucked up his spirit, went on another tack, and instead of rashly boarding his opponent, tried to enter on a friendly parley. ‘Why, look you, Mr. Parson,’ said he, ‘I’ll tell you how the land lies. I shall be off in a few days on a cruise, and if I goes to sea, and leaves Poll in port, she’ll get spliced to somebody else, before I comes back again, so you see I can’t wait a fortnight.’”

“Oh! oh! oh! Then he was afraid to trust Poll, though he was going to marry her.”

“Jack’s rhetoric, however, was all in vain, for the minister told him, that if he must be married that day, there was no other way than going to Doctors’ Commons for a license. ‘And who’s Doctor Commons,’ inquired Jack; ‘and what will the shiners be?’ No sooner were these questions answered, than away goes Jack. ‘Never mind, Poll; never mind, Mr. Parson! I’ll soon be back.’ Saying this, he quits the church, jumps into a coach at the coach-stand near the church gates, and gets under weigh to Doctors’ Commons, telling the coachman, that if he did not sail right afore the wind he should get no shot out of his locker.”

“The sailor was in right earnest about the matter.”

“The morning was wearing away, and there was but little time to spare, but Jack came back in as fine style as if he were chasing an enemy’s frigate. Nimbly as a harlequin he skips along the churchyard, and makes for the altar, holding the license in his hand, crying out ‘All’s right, Poll! all’s right, Mr. Parson! Here’s the bit o’ paper! plenty of time. Never mind, Poll! all’s right!’ It was of little use that the clergyman tried to prevail on Jack to behave with the gravity and decorum fitting the place and the occasion, so much were his spirits excited. When the clergyman examined the paper, he found, so far from things being all right, that all was wrong, for the license set forth that the marriage was to take place at the new church, and not at the church they were then in. ‘Never mind, Poll! Never mind, Mr. Parson! plenty of time!’ cried out the undaunted sailor; and what with pushing Poll, and hurrying on the parson, he got them into another hackney coach, and set off for the new church—the distance was very short.”

“He deserved to be married, for all his trouble; surely he was not again disappointed?”

“It seemed as though poor Jack was to be weather-bound, for on every fresh tack the wind was against him. No marriages being expected that morning at the new church, the high iron gate was closed, and the sexton, who had the key, was not there. Now the iron gate would have been but a trifling impediment to Jack, but it was an effectual barrier to Poll and the parson.”

“Poor Jack would soon have mounted over the gate, no doubt, had he been by himself.”

“At last the key was procured, the clerk was in attendance, and the whole party proceeded with all necessary despatch down the long gravel walk to the church. Jack every now and then crying out, ‘Never mind, Poll! Never mind, Mr. Parson! plenty of time!’ The time, however, grew very short, and the worthy minister was obliged to do his best to prevent any disappointment taking place; but when he hurried to the vestry, where the robes were kept, the door was locked. There was no time to send for the key. It was a case of necessity, and the kind-hearted clergyman resolving to do all he could, proceeded to the altar without his surplice, that he might begin the service in time, for not a moment was there to lose. What was his annoyance to find that the Book of Prayer was not there. So closely was he driven for time that, after despatching a boy to a neighbouring house for a Prayer Book, he began the service trusting to his memory.”

“If he had not been a good-natured clergyman he never would have done all that.”

“No doubt a Prayer Book might have been found in one of the pews, but there was nobody present who could be spared to look for one, and the time for beginning had been delayed till the last moment. To the great relief of the clergyman, the boy soon returned with the book he had brought, but when the worthy minister opened it he found that instead of a Prayer Book, it was a Bible!”

“We never heard of so many hindrances to anything before in our lives.”

“Further delay was out of the question; there was no time for him to go back for another book, so the clergyman, trusting to his memory, completed the ceremony without one, to the great joy of the married couple. No sooner was the ceremony over than Jack, who could not be restrained, capered about in a most indecorous manner. He danced his way along the aisle, slapt the kind-hearted minister on the back, called him a ‘true-blue,’ and a ‘hearty good fellow,’ and declared it would do him good if Mr. Parson would join him in drinking Poll’s health in a bumper.”

“Well, that is the oddest tale we ever heard. Poor Jack was married to Poll after all.”

“He was: but if you are to know anything about the military and naval duties of soldiers and sailors, I must not relate many such long and laughable stories.”

CHAPTER IV.

Discipline.—Standing in a proper position.—Young Soldiers for the East Indies.—The Articles of War in the Army and the Navy.—The Sentinel and St. Paul’s Cathedral.—Mutilation among foreign Troops.—The reckless Irishman.—His mad freak.—His lighthearted observation.—His sentence.—Discipline on board the Atalanta.—The selfish severity of a sea captain.

“I will now say a word or two on discipline, because without it an army of soldiers would be a lawless and uncontrollable mob; a mere reckless rabble, almost as dangerous to their friends as their enemies: nothing like steadiness and discipline! One slow step in the path of duty is better than the double march in that of insubordination. It is discipline that keeps the army and the navy of England in order.”

“What is discipline? Is it flogging those that do wrong and disobey orders?”

“Discipline is the instruction, as well as the control of soldiers, sailors, and marines. Bravery alone would never enable men to discharge their duty in the field; it is discipline which renders their strength, skill, and bravery efficient. A good soldier should have somewhat to hope; a bad one should have something to fear.”

“A soldier’s exercise is a part of his discipline; is it not, uncle?”

“It is, and a very important part, too; what may seem to you of no consequence, is of real value in the discipline of the army. Every, even the least, important movement in military affairs, is a link in the chain of discipline that cannot be dispensed with without loss. The act of standing in a proper position may be thought a trifle, yet, in military tactics, it is of great importance. If a soldier cannot stand properly he cannot step properly, and still less can he march, countermarch, face, wheel, and perform the various evolutions required of him; in which case he is not only less efficient himself, but also a hindrance to his comrades.”

“We never thought standing properly was of half so much consequence.”

“If you reflect, boys, for a moment, common sense will tell you, that if one man stands upright and another crooked; if one takes up a little space, and another a great deal; if one makes a long step and another a short one; if one be quick in his movements and another slow, confusion must of necessity follow, and no officer can calculate either on the ground which the troops under him will occupy or the time they will take up in their marches and evolutions. If obedience be the first duty of a soldier, order is the second.”

“What is the next thing that is learnt by a soldier after position?”

“You must not expect me to explain all that is taught in the army. My account must be a sort of running fire; a touch and go on, or I shall never find time to tell one half that I have to say. I said, that a proper position was of consequence, and so it is. In whatever position, however, a soldier may be, he should never stand with his back to an enemy, and when his eyes are right, his heart never should be wrong.”

“Soldiers are sometimes very young. One that passed us yesterday was not above twenty.”

“Very likely. There are many that go abroad very young. Some time ago three hundred men, belonging to the 89th regiment of foot, came from Chatham to Gravesend, with their newly appointed officers. They all went on board the East India ship the Bombay, their destination being the East Indies. Among the whole three hundred not one was twenty years of age.”

“What are articles of war, uncle?”

“Articles of war are express rules and orders, drawn up for the navy, as well as for the army, that sailors and soldiers may know, if they commit an offence, what penalties they incur. The articles of war in the navy are enacted by act of parliament, and contain almost every possible offence that a sailor can commit. The articles of war in the army are not enacted by act of parliament, but have been framed from time to time at the pleasure of the Crown.”

“But do all soldiers and sailors know the articles of war?”

“They do, or ought to know the principal of them, for in every ship in the royal navy they are hung up in the most public place, and beside this, they are ordered to be read to the ship’s company at least once a month.”

“Are they read to soldiers too?”

“The principal of them are. Some offences are punishable with death, and some with lighter penalties.”

“What offences can be punishable with death among soldiers?”

“Any officer or soldier who shall begin, excite, cause, or join in any mutiny or sedition, or be present without trying to suppress it, or delay to give information; or shall desert the service,—or hold correspondence with, or give information to the enemy,—or abandon his post, or quit his colours to go in search of plunder; or strike, or offer to strike a superior officer—any officer or soldier doing these things is liable to suffer death, transportation, or such other punishment as by a general court-martial shall be awarded.”

“Well, these offences would be very bad, certainly, for a soldier to commit.”

“There are other crimes also punishable with death; such as when a soldier disobeys lawful commands; or does violence when in foreign parts to any one bringing in provisions; or treacherously makes known the watchword to any one not entitled to receive it; or intentionally occasions false alarms in action or camp; or casts away his arms in presence of an enemy; or sleeps at his post,—for a sentinel on the watch of duty should keep guard over himself. I will tell you something strange about a soldier sleeping at his post. It is said that a sentinel, in troublous times, found lying at full length on the ground, was tried by a court-martial for neglect of duty. The poor fellow was in great danger of being shot. When called upon for his defence, he said, that he was not asleep, but only listening to discover any approaching sound, and that while in that attitude he distinctly heard the big bell of St. Paul’s cathedral strike thirteen. This was of course not believed; for, in the first place, it was doubted whether the clock of St. Paul’s could be heard at all at such a distance from London, and in the next, it was not at all likely that it would strike thirteen. Strange, however, as the thing appeared, it turned out to be true, for on inquiry, it was proved beyond a doubt that the clock did on that night, owing to some unaccountable circumstance, strike thirteen!”

“Well, that was a strange thing indeed! The poor soldier would never forget the clock of St. Paul’s.”

“In the articles of war, any soldier who shall intentionally injure his eyes, or maim himself by firing off his piece or otherwise, is liable to the loss of his pay and pension, in addition to other punishment.”

“Do soldiers ever do such things as those?”

“Oh yes! Many instances of the kind have occurred. I remember that when the Turkish Sultan fought against Mehemet Ali, the men required for the army in Egypt so little liked the service, that when sent off to join their corps, some knocked out their teeth, others blinded themselves, and numbers made themselves cripples, so that by far the greater number had to be sent back. In order to put a stop to this course of proceeding his highness, the viceroy, issued an order to the governors of the different districts, that every soldier who maimed or disabled himself should, in future, be sent to the galleys for life, and that some relation of his should be chosen to supply his place.”

“But did you ever hear of any man in the British army doing anything of the kind?”

“I have, boys, but listen to me. I knew an Irishman, a daring reckless fellow as ever pulled a trigger, or mounted the breach on a forlorn hope. He served in India; and in wading a swamp, in charging the enemy, or in storming a stockade, never sure was his equal; but what of all that? he was, at the best, but a bad soldier.

“Pat feared no danger. But a soldier’s first duty is obedience, and this duty he could never practise. He was an idle, swearing, swaggering, drunken fellow. It was no use trying to reclaim him, for imprisonment, piquetting, and tying him up to the halberds, produced no reformation.

“Some of the privates in Pat’s regiment were invalided, and were on the point of returning to Old England, and Pat was determined to return too. Another man would have thought the matter over coolly, but Pat had no thought in him; so, splitting a brace of bullets into half a dozen pieces, and ramming them into his pistol, he pulled the trigger, and sent the whole charge through his left hand, that he might be invalided.

“I was close beside him when the regimental surgeon came in to examine his hand. After feeling among the shattered bones for some time,—‘I can save the thumb and finger,’ cried the surgeon; and taking out his instruments, in a few minutes he had removed the whole of the shattered hand, all but the thumb and finger.

“You would have thought that, what with the pistol-charge and the surgeon’s knife, Pat’s Irish heart would have been conquered—but no, nothing like it.—‘What do you guess, now, I am thinking about?’ said he to the surgeon. ‘Can’t guess at all,’ replied the surgeon. ‘Why,’ said Pat, coolly, ‘sure enough I was thinking that I should take a pinch of snuff yet, with my odd thumb and finger when I got home to my mother in ould Ireland.’

“Pat got neither prize-money nor promotion by this mad freak, for a court-martial awarded him a thousand lashes. The greater part of his punishment, however, was remitted; he was sent up the country to be a sweeper in a fort, and, for aught I know to the contrary, he may be there still. Pat was a drunkard, and when a soldier gives way to drinking, farewell to his good character and his dreams of promotion! Drunkenness is of itself a degrading vice, and it leads a man on into almost every other. Now, with such characters as Pat, how could the army be kept together without discipline?”

“Very true. Discipline must be kept up in the army, and indeed in the navy too.”

“I will give you, boys, two striking instances of the effect of discipline on board ship. They are taken from the Supplement to the Saturday Magazine, though I believe they were at first related by that excellent and well-informed officer, Captain Basil Hall, in his interesting ‘Fragments of Voyages and Travels.’ The first instance will show you the great advantage of steadiness and discipline in circumstances of danger. His Majesty’s ship Atalanta, commanded by Captain Hickey, in November 1813, was standing in for Halifax harbour, in one of the thick fogs so frequent on that coast, when it unhappily mistook the signal-guns of another vessel, in the same situation, for those which are fired during such weather from Sambo Rock, as guides to ships entering the harbour; the consequence was, that the Atalanta struck on the rocks, and the first blow carried away the rudder, half the stern-post, together with great part of the false keel, and, it is believed, a portion of the bottom. The ship instantly filled with water, and was buoyed up merely by the empty casks, till the decks and sides were burst and riven asunder by the waves.

“The captain, who throughout continued as composed as if nothing remarkable had occurred, then ordered the guns to be thrown overboard; but before this could be even attempted, the ship fell over so much that the men could not stand. In lowering the boats for the crew to take to, one, the jolly-boat, was lost; the ship was now fast falling over on her beam-ends, and directions were given to cut away the masts; but the crash caused the ship to part in two, and a few seconds afterwards she again broke right across, between the fore and main-masts.

“A considerable crowd of men had got into the pinnace (or boat), in hopes that she might float as the ship sunk; but the captain, seeing that the boat was overloaded, desired some twenty men to quit her, and his orders were as promptly obeyed as they were coolly given, so completely was discipline maintained by the character of the commander, and consequent confidence of the crew. The pinnace then floated, but was immediately upset by a sea; the people in her, however, imitating the conduct of their captain, retained their self-possession, and, by great exertions, righted the boat, and got her clear of the wreck, where, at a little distance off, they waited further orders from their captain, who, with forty men, still clung to the remains of the vessel. It was now, however, absolutely necessary to quit it, as the wreck was disappearing rapidly; and in order to enable the boats to contain them, the men, as removed to the pinnace, were laid flat in the bottom like herrings in a cask, while the small boats returned to pick up the rest, which was at last accomplished with great difficulty; but, except the despatches, which had been secured by the captain from the first, and a chronometer, everything on board was lost. The pinnace now contained eighty persons, the cutter forty-two, and the gig eighteen, with which load they barely floated, the captain being the very last person to quit the wreck of the ship; and hardly had he got into the boat when the last fragments disappeared: three hearty cheers were given by the gallant crew. The fog continued as dense as ever, and they had no means of knowing in which direction to proceed, and if it had not been for a small compass, which one man had appended to his watch, for a toy, it is most probable that they would not yet have been preserved; at last they were all landed in safety, about twenty miles from Halifax, nearly naked, wet through and shivering, and miserably cramped by the close crowding in the boats. The captain took the worst provided, and most fatigued, round to the harbour in the boats, and the rest, under the officers, marched across the country in three divisions, with as much regularity as if going well-appointed on some regular expedition, though very few had any shoes, and they had to traverse a country only partially cleared; the same evening the whole crew, without one missing, officers, men, and boys assembled at Halifax in as exact order as if their ship had met with no accident.”

“That is a very striking account indeed! Captain Hickey was a noble fellow!”

“The second story is tragically different from the first, and presents one of the most striking pictures of passive courage ever presented to the contemplation. A captain of a ship of war, whose sole object of ambition was to distinguish himself by capturing an enemy’s vessel, conceived that his surest mode of obtaining the fulfilment of his wishes was by disciplining his crew so strictly, that, in the event of an engagement, he would be sure of victory by his superiority in this respect; but, in order to obtain this, he harassed his crew by such strict regulations, such constant and unremitting exertions, and such excessive severity, as to alienate all affection, and to bring his crew to the verge of insubordination.

“The day at length arrived when his expectations seemed about to be realized. A strange sail appeared in sight, which was soon made out to be an enemy. He summoned his crew, and addressed them in an energetic speech; reminding them of their duty, and of the glory which awaited them; he gave orders to clear for action, and was instantly and scrupulously obeyed. But the hour of retribution was at hand. His crew knew of his ambition; knew it to be the source of their suffering, and determined to be revenged in the fullest manner. Their own spirit forbad them to do anything cowardly or mean, but they stood to their guns, and, when the enemy began the engagement, they kept their places, and refused to return a shot; in vain their commander and his officers reproached, exhorted, supplicated; with their arms folded they waited their fate, nor flinched while broadside after broadside struck them down. The battle, or rather the attack, was soon over; the enemy, surprised at the non-resistance, boarded the English vessel, and found the officers and their crew nearly all destroyed. The captain lived long enough to feel the bitter anguish of disappointment, and to be conscious of having been the cause; but he fell at last, before the vessel was taken possession of.”

“That was carrying discipline too far, however. Poor fellows! How those men must have hated the captain!”

“No doubt they did. Had not the captain been blinded by his own selfishness, he would have seen their discontent. Whether in the service or out of it, that man who disregards the feelings of others is not fit to be placed in authority. When men are tried too much, the heart is like a full cup, that a drop will make run over. I was once present when a young officer was very hard on an old soldier, whom he at last called a stupid old fool. The veteran at once lost all command of himself—he stepped from the ranks and told the young officer, that he had served his country for years, while he, his officer, had never smelt gunpowder. The officer had been in the wrong, and was prudently advised to pass by the outbreak of the old soldier. Before now, I have seen men on the very eve of mutiny, when a prudent and considerate word on the part of an officer, has broken their proud hearts at once, and brought them to a sense of their duty. Englishmen hate oppression, and it ought never to be practised. When officers temper the discipline of the service with due consideration, and kindly feeling, soldiers, sailors, and marines, are ready to follow them through fire and water.”

CHAPTER V.

Alexander the Great.—Frederick the Great.—Charles XII.—Peter the Great.—Buonaparte.—Duke of Marlborough.—Hastings.—Bannockburn.—Cressy.—Poictiers.—Agincourt.—Bosworth Field.—Blenheim.—Culloden.—Prague.—Quebec.—Battles of Marathon, Thermopylæ, and the siege of Troy.—Preparation for a battle.—The battle array.—General De Zeithen.—Monument of Peter the Great.—Duke of Marlborough.

“Can you tell us, uncle, the names of the greatest warriors who have ever lived, and of the most famous battles which have ever been fought?”

“Some of them I can tell you, but my memory must be a great deal better than it is to tell you a twentieth part of either the great warriors of the world, or of the great battles they have fought. Great men and great warriors are sometimes very different things. Were mankind estimated according to the lives they have taken all conquerors would be great, but if ranked according to the benefits they have conferred, many of them would be very little. Among the ancients, Alexander the Great stands pre-eminent as conqueror; while, in more modern times, must be reckoned Frederick the Great of Prussia, Charles XII. of Sweden, Peter the Great of Russia, Buonaparte of France, and the Duke of Marlborough and the Duke of Wellington of England.”

“And which are some of the most famous battles?”

“Those that have been most spoken of are, the siege of Troy; the battle fought on the plains of Marathon, and the fight in the defile of Thermopylæ; while, in more modern times, may be reckoned the following among a hundred others; the battle of Hastings, wherein King Harold was slain; Bannockburn, where the Scotch, under the renowned Robert Bruce, beat the English under Edward II.; Cressy, where Edward III. obtained a splendid victory over the French; Poictiers, where the King of France and his son were taken prisoners; Agincourt, wherein Henry V. defeated the French. This battle was fought on St. Crispin’s-day, and our great poet, Shakspeare, thus alludes to it:—

BATTLE OF AGINCOURT.

‘He that outlives this hour, and comes safe home,

Shall stand on tiptoe when this day is named,

And rouse him at the name of Crispian:

He that outlives this day, and sees old age,

Will yearly on the Vigil feast his neighbours,

And say, To-morrow is St. Crispin’s-day.’”

“Ay! those lines are in Enfield’s Speaker—almost every boy knows them.”

“The battle of Bosworth Field is much celebrated. King Richard III. there lost his crown and his life. The battle of Blenheim was fought by the great Marlborough and Prince Eugene, against the French and Bavarians. Twelve thousand of the enemy were slain or drowned in the river.

‘Deep groaned the water with the dying sound!

Repeated wounds the redd’ning river dyed,

And the warm purple circled on the tyde.’

“At Culloden in Scotland the Duke of Cumberland gained a complete victory over the Scots. It is said, that the duke’s soldiers practised great cruelty towards the defenceless inhabitants after the battle. If so, it was a disgrace to them. ‘Ready and steady,’ is a good maxim for soldiers and sailors, ready for duty and steady in danger, but cold-hearted cruelty is a black blot on a soldier’s brow. The evils of war are bad enough in themselves. He is no true-hearted soldier who can injure the defenceless, whatever be the nation to which he belongs. Mercy is a Godlike attribute; practice it, boys, whenever it is in your power.”

“Those cruel soldiers were not worthy the name of Englishmen.”

“At the battle of Prague the King of Prussia defeated the Austrians, but the brave Marshal Schwerin, a Prussian general, there lost his life. At Minden Prince Ferdinand beat the French, with great slaughter.”

“Where is Minden?”

“In Germany. At Quebec the celebrated Wolfe was killed, dying in the moment of victory. ‘They run! they run!’ said an officer who supported the dying warrior. ‘Who run?’ inquired Wolfe eagerly. ‘The French!’ replied the lieutenant. ‘Then,’ said Wolfe, ‘I die happy!’”

“How sad to die just as he had got the victory!”

“The storming of Seringapatam, and the battle of Marengo, were two famous engagements; and the battles in Spain were very numerous. Among them were those of Corunna, Ciudad Rodrigo, Badajos, Salamanca, Vittoria, and St. Sebastian. After all these came the battle of battles, Waterloo, won by the conqueror of conquerors, Wellington.”

“What a number of battles you have mentioned!”

“Remember, boys, I am an old soldier, and am therefore at home in speaking of them. From time immemorial there have been battles, and, so long as men are what they are, there will be; but for all that it becomes us to encourage a spirit of peace and good-will to all men. It is only when the oppressed are to be protected, when injuries are to be redressed and rights defended, that the sword ought ever to be drawn from its scabbard, nor even then if those ends can be obtained by more peaceable means. In an unworthy cause battle becomes murder, and victory a polluted and unholy thing.

“As the battle of Marathon is so often alluded to in the pages of history, I will just tell you, in a few words, the particulars of the fight. Marathon was a village of Attica, about ten miles from Athens, in Greece; and Miltiades, an Athenian general, with ten thousand men, though some say twenty-thousand, defeated, in the adjacent plain, the Persian army, under Datis, of one hundred thousand infantry, and ten thousand horse. By this victory the terror of the Persian power was dispelled, and the enthusiastic valour of the Greeks called forth.”

“How long is it since the battle of Marathon?”

“More than two thousand years. The Grecian orators, whenever they wanted to excite their countrymen to warlike deeds, always reminded them of what ten thousand Athenians achieved on the plains of Marathon. The famous siege of Troy took place almost a thousand years before then.”

“Why, then it is three thousand years since the siege of Troy?”

“It is, boys. You know, I dare say, that Homer composed two poems, the Iliad and the Odyssey, on the subject; but poets are not often the most correct historians. After a siege of ten years, the Greeks took Troy from the Trojans, it is supposed by stratagem, and then burnt it to the ground.”

“Ay! Did they not send a wooden horse into the place?”

“So the tale goes. It is said, that the Greeks caused a large wooden horse to be made, and hid in it a number of their bravest warriors. They then pretended to give up the siege. At night, after the wooden horse had been taken into the city, the inclosed warriors rushed out, and opened the gates to their companions.”

“But do you not think the tale is true?”

“Indeed I do not. Now we are speaking of ancient battles, I will mention that of Thermopylæ. Thermopylæ was a narrow defile, leading from Thessaly into some Grecian districts; it was, indeed, looked on as the gate of Greece. Here Leonidas, the Spartan general, with a small band of devoted warriors, repulsed the army of Xerxes, King of Persia, consisting, say some, of three million men. Xerxes was amazed and confounded; but, having been informed of another pass over the mountains, he availed himself of it. Leonidas being attacked in the rear by twenty-four thousand men, and in front by the main body of Persians, could no longer resist his overwhelming adversary, but he and every man with him, scorning to surrender, fought till they died.”

“Battles must be very different now, to what they used to be.”

“They are indeed. Gunpowder has altogether changed military tactics. Strength and courage formerly obtained victories, but now, a knowledge of tactics will often enable a small body of men to overcome a larger one. A battle should never be fought when it can be avoided. It is said to be the last resource of a good general. If skill and stratagem can attain an object, fighting is altogether out of the question. When, however, a battle becomes inevitable, the first thing is to take advantage of the ground, for oftentimes the possession of a hill, a thicket, a village, or of a single building, is of great consequence. If you had been at Waterloo, and seen what efforts were made to possess the house called Hougomont, I should have no occasion to say a word on this point.”

“But why is a hill, or a thicket, or a house, of so much consequence?”

“Because these things not only protect troops, but enable them to annoy their enemies by preventing them from forming, and picking off their officers. It is a great advantage, also, in a battle, to have the wind and sun in your favour; to meet an enemy with the wind and dust against you, and the sun in your eyes, is very trying. The artillery should be distributed with great care, for it forms, in most cases, the principal strength of an army; and the horse and foot should be posted on ground the fittest for their operations.”

“But, how can an army fire cannon without killing their own soldiers, for they must at times be mingled together with the enemy?”

“In such a case the artillery moves its position, and only plays when it can do so on the enemy alone. The battle array generally consists of three lines, the front, the rear, and the reserve. An attacking army is generally divided into three parts, the main body, and the two wings. And the battle array is formed by dividing each of these into three lines, the front, the rear, and the reserve; the artillery is divided along the front of the first line, and the treasure, provision, and baggage, are removed to a safe place before the engagement.”

“Ay! It must be very necessary to take care of them.”

“Prussia has long been a warlike country; for Frederick the Great called forth the military energies of his people. In Prussia, every able-bodied man of the kingdom is required to perform a limited service in the army. At twenty, he enters the regular army for three years, unless favoured by some regulation, which limits the term to one year. From twenty-three to twenty-five he belongs to the war reserve, when he enters the first ban of the landwehr, and continues to his thirty-second year, after which he serves another seven years in the second ban of the landwehr. After the fortieth year, he ranks till the fiftieth in the landsturm, or levée en masse of the whole population.”

“If every one in Prussia is compelled to be a soldier, why, then, Old England for ever!”

“Frederick the Great was distinguished for great talents as a warrior, a statesman, and a man of science and literature. His enemies were numerous, his exploits brilliant, and his tactics and policy eminently successful. Surrounded on all sides by his foes, he hurried from one part of his dominions to another with equal celerity, courage, prudence, and perseverance, and though sorely tried, overcame all his difficulties, and gained the name of Frederick the Great.”

“Why, he was another Buonaparte!”

“Before the battle of Rosbach, which led to the most celebrated of all the King of Prussia’s victories, Frederick addressed his little army, not amounting to more than twenty-five thousand men, in nearly the following words:—‘My brave soldiers, the hour is come in which all that is, and all that ought to be dear to us, depends upon the swords that are now drawn for the battle. Time permits me to say but little, nor is there occasion to say much. You know that there is no labour, no hunger, no cold, no watching, no danger, that I have not shared with you hitherto; and you now see me ready to lay down my life with you, and for you. All I ask, is the same pledge of fidelity and affection that I give. Acquit yourselves like men, and put your confidence in God.’

“The effect of this speech was indescribable. The soldiers answered it by an universal shout, and their looks and demeanour became animated to a sort of heroic frenzy.

“Frederick led on his troops in person, exposed to the hottest of the fire. The enemy, for a few moments, made a gallant resistance, but overwhelmed by the headlong intrepidity of the Prussians, they, at length, gave way in every part, and fled in the utmost disorder. Night alone saved from total destruction the scattered remains of an army which, in the morning, was double the number of the conquerors.”

“A speech from a general to his army seems to do a great deal towards getting a victory.”

“Frederick was an excellent general, and the soul of perseverance. So severe was the duty in some of his regiments of cavalry, that war was said to be a mitigation rather than an addition to their hardships. Frederick had a very skilful general, of the name of De Zeithen, whom he had somewhat neglected in a time of peace. When war broke out, he was anxious to avail himself of his military talents and unequalled courage; but De Zeithen had too keen a remembrance of the past neglect to proffer his services. After trying all other methods in vain, to persuade him to his wishes, Frederick at last said, he knew that his old and faithful general, De Zeithen, would never see his King in difficulty, and deny him his assistance. De Zeithen’s proud heart was melted by this appeal of his sovereign, and, falling on his knees, with tears rolling down his cheeks, he devoted his sword while he had life to the service of his King.”

“Old General Zeithen was won over then. Frederick knew the way to the old man’s heart.”

“When Frederick took the field against his enemies, in his last war, he was in his sixty-seventh year. ‘We have all grown old,’ said he to his assembled officers, ‘in the career of arms, and have shared together the glories and the fatigues of our former wars. You are, doubtless, as unwilling as myself to shed blood, but new dangers, with which the empire and my territories are alike menaced, oblige me to take the most efficacious measures to dissipate the threatening storm. I cannot, therefore, avoid calling you once more to defend your country. It will give me the most lively satisfaction when I shall have to recompense you for your fresh services. I shall not appear during the campaign with a luxurious camp equipage; you know I have never cared for such a thing; my actual infirmities will, however, prevent my making the campaign as I should have done during the vigour of my life. I shall, in marches, make use of a carriage, but on a day of battle you may be sure of seeing me on horseback among you as formerly.’”

“The old King was ready to the last to play the general.”

“Charles XII. of Sweden delighted in war, and never did warrior surpass him in daring; but he was reckless almost to insanity. At the battle of Narva, with only twenty thousand men, he defeated the Czar, Peter the Great, who had, it is said, one hundred thousand; but at the battle of Pultowa in Russia, Peter the Great overcame him, when he fled for safety to the dominions of the Turk. He died in the trenches of Frederickshall in Norway, some say by a cannon shot, but others say by the pistol of one of his own soldiers.

‘His fall was destined to a distant strand,

A petty fortress, and a dubious hand:

He left the name at which the world grew pale

To point a moral, or adorn a tale.’”

“Great as Charles thought himself in the field, Peter the Great was too much for him at last.”

“Peter the Great of Russia was a most extraordinary man, and a warrior of no common order. He came over to England and worked in the dockyard at Deptford as a shipwright, to improve himself in the building of ships for his navy; he learned the trade of a smith, and forged a bar of iron at Olaneta in Russia, which weighed a hundred and twenty pounds. What think you, boys, of a mighty monarch working as a blacksmith, and making his nobles blow the bellows for him?”

“There are very few monarchs that would do that.”

“Peter the Great won many battles, but the victory of Pultowa over his rival in arms, Charles XII. of Sweden, ruined the latter. Peter died in the fifty-third year of his age, and the great monument at Petersburgh, erected to his memory, is a prodigious work of art. The pedestal is a single stone of red granite, weighing more than fourteen hundred tons. Peter is represented on horseback, crowned with laurel, and sitting on a housing of bear-skin. The horse, a fiery courser, stands on his hind feet, as if resolved to arrive at the pinnacle of the rock.”

“It must be a grand monument, but how the Russians could contrive to take that big stone to the place where it was to be set up, is a puzzle.”

“The great Duke of Marlborough was a mighty and successful warrior. In his grand battle at Blenheim, on the Danube, besides destroying twelve thousand French and Bavarians he took thirteen thousand prisoners, and Marshall Tallard among them. It was for this exploit that Blenheim House, a princely mansion near Oxford, was given to him, and his heirs. Great as the duke was in military fame, he at last became childish, and wept when beaten at chess, saying, ‘Every one can beat me now?’ You see, boys, how little it becomes us to be proud, for he who is great to-day may be little, indeed, to-morrow. While I tell you about soldiers and sailors, and of the reputation that many of them have attained, remember, that to be a great warrior unennobled by proper motives, is only to be a great destroyer. Aim at uprightness, usefulness, patriotism, loyalty, honour, and humanity, and you will then be true friends to your country.”

CHAPTER VI.

Uniforms.—Old Admirals in the Naval Gallery at Greenwich.—Admiral Forbes and the Duke of Bedford.—Dress of an admiral of the fleet.—Captains and commanders.—Full dress of the officers of the life-guards.—Dragoon-guards.—Light dragoons.—Lancers.—Hussars.—King George the Fourth and the life-guardsman.—Full dress of the officers of the foot-guards.—Infantry of the line.—Light infantry.—Fusiliers.—Highlanders.—Riflemen.—Sir Samuel Hood and the new-made boatswain.

“I have said nothing of the uniforms worn by soldiers and sailors, and will now enter a little on the subject. If you were to see the paintings of the hearty old admirals in the Naval Gallery of Greenwich Hospital, they would surprise you. Some of these tough old tars look as though they would not alter a brass button of their coats, if it affected the honour of old England, to prevent the broadside of an enemy from sending them to the bottom of the ocean. Their dresses are so odd and so different one from another that you would hardly think they were all admirals. Some have long curled wigs on; some have red coats, some blue, and some brown; some are clad in armour; some in buff leathern jerkins; some in loose robes, and others in red velvet gowns with ermine capes. In old times there was no fixed uniform for the navy; and, besides, some of these admirals are painted as they appeared on state occasions. In the reign of George II. some of these old heroes, talking over the subject of dress at one of their clubs, came to a resolution ‘That a uniform dress is useful and necessary for commissioned officers, agreeably to the practice of other nations.’ No sooner was this resolution passed, than a committee appointed Admiral Forbes to wait on the Duke of Bedford, who was then the First Lord of the Admiralty.”

“And did he go to the duke?”

“He did. He was shown into a room surrounded with dresses, and the duke asked him which of them he thought the most suitable? ‘Oh!’ said he, ‘the dress should be either red and blue, or blue and red, for these are the national colours.’ ‘That may be,’ replied his Grace, ‘but the King has settled the matter differently. He saw my duchess riding in the park the other day, in a habit of blue faced with white; it took his fancy, and he has ordered that it shall become the uniform of the royal navy.’ This uniform of blue and white was established in the year 1748, and remained unaltered, as to colour, until a few years ago, when King William IV. changed the white facing to a red one. At the present time we have our national colours blue and red.”

“But is there no lace about an admiral’s uniform?”

“Oh, yes. In 1812 the full dress of the admiral of the fleet was a coat of blue cloth, with white cloth lapelles laced, and cuffs, with five laces round the cuffs. The admirals the same, with only four laces on the cuffs. The vice-admirals, with only three laces on the cuffs. The rear-admiral, with two laces on the cuffs. The captain to the admiral of the fleet wore the undress or frock-uniform of rear-admirals. Captains and commanders wore uniforms of the same pattern. Lieutenants wore a uniform of the same pattern as captains, but without lace, and masters’-mates and midshipmen dressed as they did before. The officers wore epaulettes, according to their ranks.”

“Epaulettes! What, do officers in the navy wear epaulettes?”

“Yes! Epaulettes in the navy are of gold lace; and officers in the army or navy who disgrace their arms are liable to have their epaulettes torn from their shoulders. According to an order of the Admiralty, in 1812, captains above three years post have two epaulettes, with a silver crown over a silver anchor; and post-captains under three years, have two, with a silver anchor without the crown. Commanders have two plain epaulettes; lieutenants, one; rear-admirals, two, with a star on the strap of each; vice-admirals, two stars, and admirals three stars. Marines used to wear two silver epaulettes, but, for good conduct, they are now called royal, and allowed to wear gold epaulettes, according to the rank they have acquired.”

“Now, please to give us the uniform of soldiers; for that is very striking.”

“If I were jesting, boys, I should say, the most striking part of a soldier is his sword, but in gravely describing things as they are, I must say that his dress is the most conspicuous thing about him. Were soldiers clad in common clothes their bravery would suffer as much as their appearance in our estimation.”

“Oh! it would never do for soldiers to dress in common clothes; we should not know that they were soldiers.”

“Red and blue are the prevailing colours in the army. You will, perhaps, like to know something about the full dress of the officers; the dress of the men is, of course, of an inferior quality.”

“Yes. The dress of the officers, if you please. Some officers that we have seen have cut a very grand appearance.”

“Passing by, for the present, the dress of general officers, staff officers, the personal staff attached to general officers, the staff of garrisons, the Royal Military College, the Royal Military Asylum, the Cavalry Depôt, garrison of Chatham, and the civil departments, I will come at once to the dress of officers of regiments of cavalry. These are, as I have told you, the life-guards, the royal regiment of horse-guards, the dragoon-guards, and heavy dragoons, the light dragoons, the lancers and the hussars. As changes are often introduced in the dress of officers, it is possible that my account may not in every particular be correct, but I will be as exact as I can.”

“Now, then, for the dress of the life-guards.”

“The officers of the life-guards, when in full dress, wear a scarlet coat, single-breasted, which has a blue velvet Prussian collar, embroidered, and a bear-skin cap, fourteen inches deep in front, with white swan feathers. So you see that British officers may show the white feather without being suspected of cowardice. Their pantaloons are of white leather; their swords have half-basket steel-pierced hilts, with steel scabbards, and crimson and gold sword-knots, and their gloves are white leather gauntlets. When in their undress, they wear blue pantaloons, and a blue cloth forage-cap. The shabraque, or horse-cloth, of the life-guards is blue, trimmed with lace and embroidered. An officer’s uniform is often of great value; but though to lose his full-dress would be a misfortune, to be stript of his honour would be a greater loss. Directly after the battle of Waterloo his royal highness the Prince of Wales, the Prince Regent, afterward George IV. declared himself colonel-in-chief of the household cavalry brigade. This was done as a mark of attention to the first and second regiments of life-guards, and the royal horse-guards (blue), who had conducted themselves very bravely in the battle. When the Prince Regent became King he still held the appointment, and William IV. afterwards followed his example.

“The life-guards must appear grand enough mounted on their fine horses. Now for the horse-guards, for they come next.”