The question of food is intimately connected with the health of the

soldier, and, as far as we can see, no attempt has been made by the

commissariat to adjust it satisfactorily to the varying conditions to

which he is subjected. The truck system, which has long been abolished by

law in the payment of workmen, is still maintained to some extent in the

army. The soldier is nominally paid 13_d._ per day, but out of this the

authorities stop a certain sum, which varies with the markets, for the

rations and other necessaries supplied to him. The quantity of the ration

is fixed both for service at home and abroad. At home he has 1 lb. of

bread and 3/4 lb. of meat inclusive of bone, an additional 1/2 lb. of

bread being given to troops encamped in England. Abroad the ration

consists of 1 lb. of bread or 3/4 lb. of biscuit, and 1 lb. of meat either

salt or fresh, the additional 1/4 lb. being given to compensate for the

inferior quality of foreign compared to English meat. There are one or two

exceptional rations; but at home or abroad, in peace or in war, the ration

(the quality of the meat being considered) is the same. Simplicity may be

urged in favour of the system, but we fear this is its only merit, and we

are not at all surprised to find the following remarks in the Report:--"We

are of opinion that no ration can be fixed upon which shall be adhered to

in both peace and war. The conditions of life are so different in the two

cases, that whatever is suitable for the one must be either too much or

too little for the other." Common sense would clearly point out that the

ration which would be amply sufficient for the soldier in country

quarters, whose principal occupation is lounging along the street, or

leaning upon a bridge, would go but little way to maintain the wear and

tear of a man when exhausted by the fatigues of an active campaign. The

degree and nature of his labours then may be gathered from the following

extract from the Report of the Commissioners of Inquiry into the Supplies

of the Army in the East:--

"The average weight carried by a soldier on the march, including food

and water for the day, is probably not less than from fifty to sixty

pounds, and while carrying that burden he is frequently required not

only to march considerable distances, but also to move rapidly, and

make other great exertions. In the ordinary course of his duty he is

called upon to watch during the night at longer or shorter intervals,

whatever may have been his previous exertions. He is exposed to every

vicissitude of temperature, and often to the inclemency of the

weather, by night as well as by day, and must be ready to turn out

when required, at any hour, and under any circumstances. He must

generally be content with the shelter of a tent, whatever the climate

may be. When engaged in siege operations, he has to perform, mostly

during the night, the work that a railway labourer performs by

day--excavating and removing earth. When stores are to be landed, he

is often required to do the work of a dockyard labourer. When employed

in active service the soldier, therefore, requires a diet as

nourishing as that which is requisite to maintain the physical powers

of any other man engaged in hard labour involving frequent watching

and exposure."

That is, the soldier is required at times to be a railway navvy, and

something more; but, unlike the navvy, he is not allowed to replenish his

inward man according to his natural desires, but according to a certain

fixed regulation. As well may a stoker limit his engine to a hundredweight

of coals a day, and expect to get any speed out of it he pleased. The

navigator, whilst executing heavy work, is known to eat as much as six

pounds of meat a day. Now we question if any navigator ever worked harder

than the common soldier in the trenches before Sebastopol, yet he was

expected to perform his task on one pound of meat, fresh or _salt_, equal

to three-quarters of a pound of English beef or mutton. The salt meat too

is vastly less nutritive than fresh; and in case the lemon-juice fails, as

it did in the Crimea, scurvy and its allied diseases are sure to follow

its use. Well may Dr. Christison have remarked "that any scientific person

conversant with the present subject (dietaries) could have foretold, as a

certain consequence, sooner or later, of their duty, that the British

troops would fall into the calamitous state which befell them in the

Crimea." It must be evident again that the soldier during a Canadian

winter requires more meat than he does between the tropics. In cold

climates the nitrogenous and carboniferous food should predominate; in

warm climates a larger amount of vegetable food is required. The exact

amount of the different kinds of food, however, requires a special study;

but surely chemistry, which has so admirably catered for the varying wants

of prisoners undergoing fluctuating amounts of exertion, could find no

difficulty in furnishing proper dietary tables for the British army in

different parts of the globe. The Commissioners, in their Report, fully

convinced of the injustice even at home of keeping stalwart English

soldiers upon half a pound of meat per day, recommend that it shall be

increased to a pound.

In the clothing of the British soldier a contest has been long going on

between what is considered by the officers to look "smart," and what is

found by the men to be comfortable. A soldier upon parade and a soldier

going into action scarcely looks the same man. The tight coat, the stiff

stock, and the ugly shako, give a stiffness to his figure which is termed

"a soldierly appearance:" but upon the march or the eve of battle the

jacket is thrown open, the trowsers are tucked up, the shako is thrown

away, and the stock follows suit. He has divested himself of every

particle of clothing which is supposed to conduce to his smartness; but

he is a free man: he can use his limbs with facility, he can march without

fainting, and he can fight at his ease. Major-General Lawrance,

apologising for the retention of the shako, and for the leathern stock,

upon home service, urges that "it is essential to consider the appearance

as well as the comfort of the soldier." Some of the soldiers themselves

wish to keep the stock, provided "that it may always be taken off when

muscular exertion is required." The Commissioners are of opinion, and we

think rightly, that "this condition applied to any part of a soldier's

dress is condemnatory of it." Why should he possess a set of fine weather

feathers any more than the fireman or the policeman? Fitness is the very

essence of comeliness. The Ironsides of Cromwell would have smiled grimly

at the holiday suit of the modern soldier. The Commissioners in their

Report condemn nearly every article of clothing in present use--the stock

as an instrument of strangulation; the shako as neither fitted by size,

colour, weight, material, nor form, for service in hot climates; and the

trowsers as gathering dust on the march. In the Crimea the men were in the

habit of wrapping a piece of bale canvas from the commissariat stores

round their legs, which effectually protected them from the mud and wet.

This suggests a return to the old gaiter used in the army during the early

part of George III.'s reign, and still by some regiments of Highlanders,

or the adoption of a boot to lace over the bottom of the trowsers like the

ordinary shooting boot. The West India regiments are ordered to wear the

Zouave dress--the loose trowsers, leather leggings, jacket, and fez. This

may be well enough adapted for black troops, but we should be sorry to see

our own men tricked out in this foreign fashion.

The chief parts of the soldier's body which require attention, as regards

health, are the head and neck. The head should be protected against the

extremes of heat and cold by every means that science can devise. In

tropical climates we still retain the shako, shielding it from the sun

with a linen cover. The insufficiency of this device is read in the

fearful mortality from sun-stroke, which devastates our army in India at

the present time. The natives wear a cotton turban with an old horseshoe

on the top to protect them from sword-cuts; and the Commissioners

recommend a light cap covered with wadded linen, with a flap hanging down

behind. Like the sola or pith helmet, the protection here is in the slow

conducting power of the material. Mr. Jeffreys, however, in his admirable

treatise entitled "The British Army in India," justly remarks, that the

slower a substance conducts, the longer it retains its heat. A

turban-covered shako worn all day in an Indian sun becomes charged with

caloric to such an extent that it will give out a sensible heat when hung

up in the tent, and will distress the head the moment it is put on; for

this reason the covering should be placed outside the tent at night to

cool. But, after all, though the heat may penetrate very slowly to the

wearer, the time comes when at last it reaches the skull. The protection

may be ample for the acclimatised Hindoo, and yet be insufficient for the

European. Mr. Jeffreys tells us that the scarf-skin of the Indian is so

much thicker than that of the European, that, when serving as a medical

officer, he was obliged to have a lancet ground in a peculiar manner for

vaccinating the horny hide of the native infants. We therefore agree with

him that science must be called upon to give the English soldier a still

further defence against the sun. He has himself attempted to solve the

problem. Instead of the use of the cloth-covered helmets he terms

sun-traps he has constructed an ingenious covering in which reflection,

retarded conduction, slow radiation, convection, and ventilation are

brought consecutively into play. There can be little doubt that

scientifically his contrivance is unexceptionable, and would keep the head

always cool. The weight, however, which his plan necessitates is a

material element, although it is the heat not the weight which kills. If

we desire to form an idea of the amount of heat which is thrown off by a

bright surface, we have only to place our hands before the polished sides

of a common firegrate, when the reflected heat will be found to be very

little less than that directly radiated from the fire. It is just because

these sides cast the heat which strikes them back again that the inner

face is kept comparatively cool. This, therefore, is the best description

of surface to present to the sky. It may be objected that the soldiers

would be dazzled by the helmets of their comrades; but the inconvenience

would only be incident to a curvilinear-shaped helmet, possessing numerous

tangential planes of reflection. A rectangular form, such as that of the

present shako, would reflect the rays of the midday sun either down to the

earth or up to the sky, and there would be no more glare observable than

from the windows of a house, which, except at sunset, are the darkest part

of the building. The helmet of the crusader was made in the form of a tin

pot: this was retained by the Knights Templars, who well understood the

value of the bright reflecting surface and the rectangular shape.

Mr. Jeffreys goes further. He proposes that the body-dress of soldiers

serving in tropical climates should also have a metallic reflecting

surface. Though the idea may seem strange, we think it worthy of

consideration. A good defence against tropical heat must be devised if we

intend to keep India; for we cannot afford to send English regiments to be

wholly destroyed as fighting men every ten years. The sun is the great

ally of the natives; they counted upon its service in the late rebellion,

and we must endeavour to convert this enemy into a friend. A perfectly

sun-proof dress would be worth many armies to us. Some regiments of

irregular horse, which are by far the most picturesque-looking troops we

have, wear a light gray woollen blouse with simple curb chains on the

shoulders to protect them from sword-cuts. This we believe to be the most

suitable garment at present in use. Mr. Galton says that "during the

progress of expeditions notes have been made of the number in them of

those who have provided themselves with flannel, and of those who have

not, and the list of sick always included names from the latter list in a

very great proportion." With a host of such facts, well known to all who

have paid attention to the subject, it seems surprising that the military

authorities should have adopted a linen blouse for the troops in India.

This material is perhaps the best conductor of all the fabrics used in

dress; its unsuitableness therefore for a climate which is alternately

hot, cold, and wet, may easily be imagined. The neck and spine should be

guarded against the assaults of the sun almost as carefully as the head.

In all ages Easterns have been mindful to protect the great nervous

highway. The Arabs invariably bring one of the ends of the turban down

over the neck, and the French have adopted the same plan in Algeria. As

regards the spine, every one has experienced the sense of sickness which

is produced when the back is brought close to a strong fire. Such a fire

the poor soldier often endures for hours when marching under an Indian

sun. Sun-strokes arise as much from this cause as from the exposure of the

head. The Arab has a long tasselled loop of cloth hanging down in the

small of the back, which acts as a piece of solar armour: the English

soldier should have a similar protection, unless we are to consider that

his black knapsack and his neatly rolled great-coat are all that is

required. A belt of flannel should by no means be forgotten. The direct

rays of the sun striking upon the expanse of nerves over the abdomen often

bring on cholera or dysentery. The soldier should have, in addition, a

loose woollen wrapper to serve as a change when campaigning. The value of

dry clothes when he lies down on the bare ground after a fatiguing march

is not to be overrated. "The skin's debility is malaria's opportunity,"

justly remarks Mr. Jeffreys. "The germs of fever, dysentery, and cholera,

stalking over the bodies of a sleeping army, which has been exposed to the

sun by day, quickly scent out the enfeebled skins and divide the prey!"

The colour of the dress is important. Dr. Coulier, who has lately

investigated the qualities of different materials as clothing for troops,

found that white cotton placed over a cloth dress produced a fall of 7

degrees per cent. in heat. When the tube of a thermometer was covered with

cotton sheeting and placed in the sun, it marked 35·1, with cotton lining

35·5, with unbleached linen 39·6, with dark blue cloth 42, with red cloth

42. From these experiments it will be seen that the staring red of our

uniforms absorbs no less than seven degrees more of heat than simple

cotton. As we have to guard against the cold of night, and the damp of the

rainy season, perhaps the best method of meeting the varied conditions of

heat, moisture, and cold would be to give the soldier a simple woollen

blouse of some neutral colour, which, while it did not absorb the sun's

rays, would yet be pleasing to the eye. Gray, faced with red, or girdled

with a red sash or belt, would have an excellent effect, and would answer

admirably.

It is singular that whilst our troops at home, for the last twenty years

within the immediate influence of a growing sanitary science, have

profited little by its teaching, the troops quartered abroad within the

same time have experienced a marked decline in their annual rate of

mortality. In the year 1835 Lord Howick caused a parliamentary inquiry to

be made into the causes of the fearful mortality among the troops on some

of the foreign stations, especially in the West Indian islands. The

returns proved even worse than had been anticipated. The mortality in

Jamaica was no less than 128 per thousand, or, in other words, every

eighth man who stepped on board a transport for service in this beautiful

island was doomed to leave his body for the land crabs. In the other

islands the mortality was somewhat less, the deaths being 81 in the

thousand. The reason of this decimation had long been known. More than

fifty years ago Robert Jackson had pointed out the deadly nature of our

military posts, situated for the most part at the embouchures of rivers

and in low harbours, or placed in the immediate neighbourhood of

pestiferous swamps. Salt pork and rum were called in to finish the work

malaria had commenced. Five days a-week were our soldiers rationed upon

this poisonous food; and, to make the injustice more glaring, the convicts

upon the island were fed with fresh meat, and were consequently in good

health. In 1843 Sir Charles Metcalfe determined that the troops should no

longer perish. He altered their diet and removed them entirely from the

marshy plains to Maroon Town, which stands at an elevation of not more

than 2,500 feet on the Blue Mountains, but sufficient to lift European

life above the level of the deadly fevers of the climate. The effect of

these changes exactly corresponded with what had been foretold by Jackson;

the mortality speedily fell from 128 to 60 per thousand, and is now

reduced to 32. Thus for many generations the mortality of white troops in

Jamaica was fourfold what it should have been, through ignorance and

extravagance; for, strange to say, the difference between the cost of the

poisonous salt pork and the healthy fresh meat caused a saving to the

Government of 80,000_l._ a-year.

In other colonies the improvement in the health of the troops has been

marked of late years. At Ceylon, where resort has been had to

hill-stations, the mortality has decreased from 74 per thousand,--at which

ratio it stood until 1836,--to 38 per thousand at the present time. During

the same period, we find that at St. Helena the rate has fallen from 25 to

12, at Gibraltar from 22 to 12, at the Ionian islands from 27 to 17, and

at Newfoundland from 37 to 11 per thousand. From this gratifying statement

we must except the greatest dependency of all,--our Indian Empire. In

Bengal the mortality of the British soldier, just before the mutiny, was

even greater than it had been twenty years before. On the average of

nineteen years previous to 1836, it had been 75 per thousand; on the

average of the next period of eighteen years, it was 76 per thousand. In

Bombay, the mortality has decreased 2 per thousand; but in Madras the

improvement has been such that the deaths have fallen from 76 to 41 per

thousand. Whilst India remained in the hands of the East India Company,

and the British troops stationed there seldom exceeded 25,000, the high

mortality of the presidency of Bengal might have escaped observation; but

now that the European soldiers are more than doubled, the necessity for

putting their sanitary condition upon a proper footing must be obvious.

"Colonel Tulloch has informed me," says Mr. Martin, in his admirable work

on the Influence of Tropical Climates on the European Constitution, "that

between 1815 and 1855 there died, of European soldiers belonging to her

Majesty's and the East India Company's army in India, very nearly 100,000

men, the greater portion of whose lives might have been saved, had better

localities been selected for military occupation in that country."

Estimating the value of each soldier in India at 100_l._, this would give

a sum of 10,000,000_l._

The barracks and cantonments of India, as regard vastness and solidity,

are, perhaps, not to be equalled by any in the world. The military

buildings of Burhampore, in Bengal, are said to have cost, during the

seventy-seven years they were in existence, including capital and

interest, 16,891,206_l._; yet this costly station, like that of

Secunderabad, in the Madras presidency, was planted in an absolutely

pestiferous locality. All over India the localities of the barracks are

bad, and their construction and arrangement extremely faulty. "Nearly the

whole station of Cawnpore," says Mr. Jeffreys, "running some miles along

the river, was so cut up into small 'compounds,' by high mud walls, that a

bird's-eye view would have given it the appearance of a divided

honey-comb. These walls, with the profusion of trees they enclosed, seemed

as if designed to cut off every current of wind from the inhabitants of

the ground-floor dwellings hidden within them." In another case, as if to

make stagnation doubly secure, he mentions that there is a square wall

within a square wall, surrounding a cantonment. Hence we can easily

account for the fearful mortality among European troops in India. As if to

make patent to us the folly we commit in constructing these vast

bakehouses, the native troops, who hut themselves outside our lines, and

thus get plenty of air, present the unique example of a soldiery whose

mortality is below that of the population from which it is recruited. In

the Bengal presidency the mutiny has cleared away the difficulty; for it

has swept the mass of these pestilential cantonments from the face of the

earth. The question, how shall we profit by the loss? is answered by Mr.

Martin in his "Suggestions for promoting the Health and Efficiency of the

British Troops serving in the East Indies." He insists that we must

station our troops, in future, upon the hills, but not on such stations as

we have on the Himalaya and Neilgherry mountains,--positions of 7,000 feet

above the sea; for, although they are a security against the fevers of the

country, they are apt to induce bowel complaints, which are almost as

fatal. His opinion is, that elevations of from 2,800 to 6,000 feet would

yield a climate most congenial for European troops,--such, in fact, as we

have already found in the Blue Mountains of Jamaica. He especially draws

attention to the solitary hills,--"those islands of the plains,"--as

capable of affording a refuge from the fevers that inundate the low-lying

ground. Here the mass of the British army may be lodged until their

services are needed. From these eyries, like the Romans of old, they may

watch the champaign country, and be ready, at a moment's notice, to move

on any threatened position. There is no intention of recommending the

abandonment of strategical points, or large cities which serve as

arsenals, simply because they are not wholesome. There are dangers to be

braved in peace as well as in war. Yet our experience of the heroic

qualities of the British soldier justifies the assumption that small

bodies of them, placed in strongly fortified positions, could hold out

against all comers until succour should arrive from the hill-stations,

especially now India is being traversed by railroads and telegraphs. But

even these stations are not sufficient to restore patients suffering under

chronic disease. These, if possible, should at once be sent home. The sick

officer is invalided, and speedily recovers in the air of his native land;

the common soldier, on the contrary, is forced to enter the hospital,--too

often to die. The men, moreover, should be recruited for a shorter time.

At present they practically serve seventeen years in India,--a period

which breaks down the constitutions of the majority. It is the exposure to

heat for a great length of time, and not its intensity for a short period,

that destroys European life. If we entrap the ignorant labourer by the

most unworthy artifices,[31] we should, at least, be merciful to him. Let

the term of service be reduced to ten years, and then the stream of

stalwart Britons, fresh from the mother-country, would enable us, in

conjunction with hill-stations, to keep a powerful and resistless grasp

upon the country.

It may well be imagined that, if the sanitary condition of our army is so

bad in times of peace, its sufferings in war must be greatly exaggerated.

The experience of the Peninsula, Walcheren, Burmah, and Sebastopol, has

unfailingly proved this to be the case, and, in manifold instances, the

evils were such as could have been avoided with ease.

"The barracks and the military hospital," says Miss Nightingale,

"exist at home and in the colonies as tests of our sanitary condition

in peace; and the histories of the Peninsular war, of Walcheren, and

of the late Crimean expedition, exist as tests of our sanitary

condition in the state of war. We have much more information on the

sanitary history of the Crimean campaign than we have of any other. It

is a complete example--history does not afford its equal--of an army,

after a great disaster arising from its neglects, having been brought

into the highest state of health and efficiency. It is the whole

experiment on a colossal scale. In all other examples the last step

has been wanting to complete the solution of the problem. We had in

the first seven months of the Crimean campaign a mortality among the

troops at the rate of 60 per cent. per annum from disease alone--a

rate of mortality which exceeds that of the great plague in the

population of London, and a higher ratio than the mortality in cholera

to the attacks; that is to say, that there died out of the army of the

Crimea an annual rate greater than ordinarily die in time of

pestilence out of sick. We had during the last six months of the war a

mortality among our _sick_ not much more than among our _healthy_

Guards at home, and a mortality among our troops in the last five

months _two-thirds only of what it is among our troops at home_."

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