For gold the merchant ploughs the main,
The farmer ploughs the manor;
But glory is the sodjer's pride;
The sodjer's wealth is honour.
The brave, poor sodjer ne'er despise,
Nor count him as a stranger;
Remember he's his country's stay
In day and hour o' danger.
Burns.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
As thousands of my readers have never seen the camps at Aldershot or the
Curragh, a slight sketch of each of these great military stations will,
no doubt, be interesting. It has never been my lot to be quartered at
either place, therefore I am unable to enter into details as regards the
extent of accommodation. I believe, however, that upwards of twenty
thousand men of all arms are frequently concentrated at Aldershot, the
object of which appears to be the thorough training of troops for
foreign service. The authorities in this, as well as many other matters
connected with the War Department, display a lamentable degree of
ignorance. When first the camp at Aldershot was instituted, the greater
part of the men were encamped in huts built of deal and roofed with
felt, and some few regiments were under canvas. Gradually the
accommodation was extended, until at the present time there are numerous
ranges of brick buildings erected on quite a model plan, and superior as
examples of barrack architecture to anything in Europe. These are
called the "permanent barracks;" the cavalry quarters and stabling, with
two spacious riding-schools and other necessary buildings, such as
cook-houses, saddlers', armourers', shoemakers', and tailors' shops, all
being separated some distance from the infantry barracks.
Very many infantry regiments and several brigades of artillery, together
with one regiment of cavalry and a battalion of the Rifle Brigade, were
in huts when I visited the camp in April, 1860. It is the ridiculous
system of picketing horses in the open air to which I allude as
displaying a great amount of ignorance on the part of the authorities of
the War Department. The system entails a great and very unnecessary
loss to the country annually. When troop-horses have been used to warm
stables--many of them for years--they are certain to take cold when
picketed in the open air. Inflammation, influenza, greasy heels, and
that dreadful disease, glanders, are almost sure to break out, and in
time extend their effects to other regiments who come in contact with
them or their quarters. If young horses, on being purchased from their
breeders, were never permitted to enter a stable, no harm would come of
the system; but moving horses from warm stables to the open air, in such
an exposed situation as Aldershot, can only have a parallel in a
gardener transplanting his choicest hot-house plants into the open air
during the rigours of a severe winter.
Aldershot, in the county of Hants, is about fifty miles from London, on
the South-Western Railway. The camp is fourteen miles in circumference,
and is completely surrounded by piquets (soldier-police-men), mounted
and on foot; so that if any poor, discontented wight makes an attempt to
desert, it is a guinea to a gooseberry in favour of his being caught,
and walked back under escort to camp. When I alighted at Farnborough
Station my eye at once rested upon the fine bronzed countenance of
Sergeant McGuinness, of the 10th Hussars (one of the Kertch heroes), who
was at that period provost-sergeant in charge of a piquet always on duty
between Farnborough and the camp, a distance of three miles. No ticket
is allowed to be issued at the Farnborough or other stations to soldiers
until the provost-sergeants have inspected the "pass," or "furlough,"
which they ought to have duly signed by the captain of their troop or
company.
As an instance of the want of discretion before spoken of, in reference
to the unnecessary exposure to the weather of men and horses, I may
state, that while I was visiting the camp, the 40th Regiment and a few
companies of the 41st Regiment of infantry arrived, having come direct
from the West Indies, where they had been stationed many years. I was
at the railway-station when they were disgorged from the special train,
in all about 1000 men, besides women and children. The sick, some
partially blind, others lame, and many suffering from extreme weakness,
were assisted into the ambulances sent from the camp to convey them from
the station to the hospital. The main body looked sadly emaciated, and
in want of warmer and more comfortable quarters than are to be found at
Aldershot. I have seen thousands upon thousands of soldiers embarked
and disembarked, many with more than a chance of certain death staring
them in the face, but none with such miserable-looking countenances as
these poor men. It was a cold, showery day for the time of year, and
they were accompanied by many women and children, who had to toil
through to camp on foot as best they could; some with infants at the
breast, and others toddling and fretting at their side. Why a few
ambulances were not sent down from the camp to convey these women and
children to their quarters, Lieutenant-General Knollys (then in command
of the troops at Aldershot) can best answer.
It is, however, impossible not to ask why soldiers, calling themselves
_men_, should marry women to such misery as this? And why do women ever
marry soldiers at all? The Legislature ought either to prohibit the
marriage of soldiers, or treat their wives as women, and not worse than
dogs.
It was curious to see the number of parrots and birds of beautiful
plumage, together with monkeys and goats, the men had brought with them
from the West Indies. I noticed a soldier carrying one of the latter,
which was lame, across his shoulders; I also noticed several pure-bred
Arab horses, especially two noble-looking greys of high caste, with
flowing manes and tails, and showing a perfection of symmetry such as I
very seldom see in Arab horses imported into this country. Those of the
officers who had wives assisted them to cabs, and then took their own
places in the ranks; the colonels mounted their Arab chargers, and
"Forty-ninth, fall in! Forty-first, fall in! Attention! Right form
four deep! Quick march!" the columns stepped off with the left foot,
and commenced their measured tramp to the music, which sounded as a
mockery to the horde of weary women and children toiling in their rear,
and who were soon left far behind.
The road from Farnborough station to the camp is pleasant enough in fine
weather to those who are light-hearted and free, but it is miserable at
any time, with nothing but more, misery at the end of the journey, to
the unfortunate individuals I have described. I mounted the box of an
omnibus which meets every train, and we trundled merrily away along the
sandy lane, bounded on each side for a part of the way by stately firs.
The 'bus stops a few minutes at the "Queen's Hotel," a temporary
building of iron and glass, situate on the edge of what is called the
north camp, and on an eminence overlooking the south camp in the far
distance. To the right, almost as far as the eye can reach, is a barren
desert, with only here and there a patch of stunted heather; and,
although the showers have been heavy, I notice a dense cloud of black
dust, moving now here, now there. Hark! I hear borne on the wind that
well-known trumpet-sound, "Halt!" and when the dust (which has been
trodden up by the horses' feet) has partially cleared away, I can
perceive the gay pennons of that time, newly-raised corps, the 5th Royal
Irish Lancers. Lower down in the valley are the 18th Royal Irish
Hussars, another regiment raised since the close of the Crimean
campaign; these, at the time I write, are about embarking for India.
The old time-honoured "Green Horse," the 5th Dragoon Guards, are with
them at field-drill, and all are in a high state of efficiency. I saw
them march to their quarters an hour afterwards all begrimed with dust,
which made them appear as black as sweeps, the whites of their eyes
rolling beneath their shaggy eyebrows, like those of the inhabitants of
an uncivilised region, more than British dragoons.
The first range of huts that met my eye after passing the Queen's Hotel
was occupied by a battalion of the Rifle Brigade--a fine, well-made
class of men, of more than ordinary intelligence: these were at drill,
all on the run (double) on the wide sandy plain in front of their huts.
In the rear of these huts, and nearer to the north camp railway-station
(on the South Eastern line), are a couple of squadrons of the 16th
Lancers not long arrived from York, the men in huts, and the horses
picketed in sand-pits; and farther on still I could distinguish a party
of foot guards, attired in their white flannel jackets, at rifle
practice. Lower down, on our way to the south camp and permanent
barracks, is the canal with its pontoon bridge, the connecting link
between the north and south camps. Away the omnibus trundles along the
Farnham road, leaving the aforesaid encampments on our left, until it
reaches the Club-house, for the use of officers only, and situate in a
fine space of pleasure-ground: it is a prettily designed structure of
wood, iron, and glass, painted green and white. Opposite the Club-house
we diverge from the main road, and enter the precincts of the south
camp, and pass by the innumerable huts, which would be black and sombre
enough but for the scarlet uniforms of their inmates, hung here and
there while being brushed and pipeclayed, which helps to relieve the
everlasting blackness of their asphalte-bedaubed roofs and sides.
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.