THE SOLDIER'S VERSION.*

THE reading public has always shown a lively curiosity about the thoughts and feelings of the private soldier on the battle-

field, as the popularity of the ingenious MM. Erckmann- Chatrian and a good deal of Mr. Rudyard Kipling's work bears witness. But for obvious reasons it rarely gets such impressions first-hand. We are by no means sure, however, that the genuine article would enjoy the same popular favour as the fictitious one. What the public likes is a mixture of realism and psychical introspection, a gruesome narrative of bursting shells and bloodshed blended with the mental struggles of some particular combatant whose soul hovers uncomfortably between heroism and cowardice. It prefers, for instance, the dismal imaginings of Mr. Stephen Crane, who has never seen a battlefield, to the plain, matter- of-fact statements of the veteran M. Coignet, who fought under Napoleon from Marengo to Moscow, and back to the final field of Waterloo. The literary artist is much more true to life, it thinks, than the plain soldier, who can only relate what he sees, and has no language to describe feelings of which he is probably but dimly conscious at the time. We will not dispute the claim of the former to interpret the latter's dumbness, but we should like to urge the right of the soldier to our best attention when he does speak. This collection of soldiers' yarns, Told front the Ranks, certainly makes no claim to literary merit ; but as giving a plain, unvarnished account of British warfare during the last half-century from a soldier's point of view it has at least an historical merit and interest of its own. The narrators do not indulge in speculations as to their personal feelings on the eve of battle, nor are they, as a rule, stirred by the horror of their surroundings into graphic speech. War, in their hands, seems but a commonplace kind of thing after all. Perhaps they are right, and it is only the morbid imagination of the peaceful citizen that would make it a nightmare of gloom and ghastly terror.

Let us take Mr. Edward Hyde, formerly of the 49th Regiment, one of the most eloquent and lucid of the narra- tors, as a witness. His baptism of fire took place at the

Alma, where his regiment was among the first to rush the enemy's position on the heights. "This was ray first battle-

field," he writes, "and I can't very well describe my feelings ; whether it was fear or excitement I don't know, but I seemed dazed, and went wherever the others went, and did whatever they did; there was nothing to be gained by hanging back."

Now in the hands of Mr. Stephen Crane this plain statement

would have been translated into chapters of psychological moralising, but we are not sure that the few words of the man who could not describe his feelings are not more

graphic as well as a good deal more true to the case. "I don't believe the commanding officers could describe the fight, much less a private soldier," he says of the battle of Inker- mann. We should like to quote at length from his account of the fight, but must content ourselves with one extract :—

"My company was sent to take charge of the two-gun battery, where about eighteen or twenty men were firing at the advancing Russians with two eighteen-pounders. This battery was only a simple piece of earthwork thrown up on three sides of a square, with two embrasures in it for the guns. It had been built under fire, and consequently was a very rough affair. Soon the Russian infantry got right up to it, and clambered up the sides and front of it, and we had a hard job to keep them out. Directly we saw their heads above the parapets or looking into the embrasures, we fired at them or bayoneted them as fast as we could. They came on like ants; no sooner was one knocked backwards than • Told from the Banks: Itecoilections ef Service during the Q118871.3 Reign. By Prive,:es and Non-Commissioned °dicers of the British Army. Collected by E. B. Small. London: Andrew Melrose. another clambered over the dead bodies to take his place all of them yelling and shouting. We in the battery were not quiet, you may be sure, and what with cheering and shouting, the thud of blows, the clash of bayonets and swords, the ping of the bullets, the whistling of the shells, the foggy atmo- sphere, and the smell of powder and blood, the scene inside the battery where we were was beyond the power of man to imagine or describe."

The same writer took part in the :ill-fated attack on the Redan. We are glad to learn that he is now not ill-content with his pension of eightpence a day, with fourpence more for his good-conduct badge. His experiences are followed by those of a young Guardsman who fought against Arabi Pasha in Egypt. The younger school of soldiers, as befits its better education, is more sententious. On his return from the Egyptian Campaign he was transferred to the Reserves, giving God thanks for my safe deliverance, and having seen enough of the glories and horrors of war." When one con- trasts the brief Egyptian Campaign with the Crimean War and the Mutiny, through both of which many of the older writers have passed, one must confess that the young soldier is easily satisfied. To them follows Mr. Joseph Grigg, who rode with the Six Hundred in their famous charge. His description is too long for quotation, but it is well worth reading. His own feats he describes in the most modest and matter-of-fact fashion ; but one gathers that he killed at least three of the enemy at the guns, and must have killed more on the fight back to safety. Private Samuel Parks was taken a prisoner :—

"He told us that General Menschikoff said to him, Did they make all you men drunk before the charge ? '—• No, sir,' he answered, 'unless a pen'orth of rum in an evening would do it, for we only pay a penny a day for our allowance.'—' Well,' said the General, as he walked away, 'I never saw a prettier charge in my life.'"

Sergeant Ta.ffs, of the 4th Regiment, was also at Inker- mann,—

" Which has been called the soldiers' battle, for we had sud- denly to take up position and defend ourselves as hest we could, and our officers had to fight among the rank and file, rather than take command, for it was impossible for them to see how matters stood, except in their immediate neighbourhood. It was a terrible time ; we fought behind bushes and rocks, and charged in small parties here and there, fighting all the while like fiends. I found myself, with about a dozen comrades, surrounded by an overwhelming number of Russians They fired at us, and then rushed upon us with fixed bayonets. I was shot in the thigh, and then felled to the ground with a blow from the butt end of a musket. With a yell, a company of French came to our assist mice, and drove off our assailants, and I lost consciousness. When I came to my senses, the stars were shining brightly, and a dead Frenchman was lying across my breast."

No professional author could beat the simple, graphic force of the last few words. The same gallant soldier quaintly remarks of the Abyssinian War, upon which he was afterwards employed,—" It is not often a soldier knows much about the cause of a war in which he was engaged, but I managed to learn a few facts which caused me to take an additional interest in the expedition." Gunner and Driver Cox, of the Artillery,

is another veteran of the Crimea and Mutiny. He relates a characteristic story of General Gordon :— "The embrasures of our battery were often knocked about, and one day I heard a corporal order two sappers to repair them. General Gordon, who was then a lieutenant, overheard the com- mand, and said, Don't tell a man to do what you wouldn't venture to do yourself,' and then he set to work with a shovel. I fancy I can see him now, covered with dust and dirt."

Richard Ellis, of the 3rd Foot, also tells of the Crimea. He had previously narrowly missed being present at Sobraon. He has much to say of the marvels of India, but relates nothing more wonderful than the gun-practice made at Sobraon. "I saw, when the captured guns were marched

down by the 62nd Regiment, our cannons had been so accurately aimed that several balls were lodged in the muzzles of the enemy's guns." By the side of these veterans, the tales of our younger soldiers seem, as we have hinted above, a little

flat. James Wickenden, R.H.A., tells a story of hardship in Egypt which is worth quoting for the amusingly characteristic language in which it is told. He acted as groom to one of his officers, and had to do "little jobs" for him as well as his own

duty :--

One evening he said to me, I think I'll sleep here to-night, Wickenden, down by this gun.'—I answered, • Very good, Sir,' and scraped a hole in the sand, and laid his blanket in it. As a. rule, we could always sleep directly we lay down, but in a few moments he said, 'I can't sleep here. Wickenden.'—' Can't you, sir ? ' I asked ; what's wrong, sir ?'—' Why there's such an abominable smell just here !'—'0h, that comes from over the hill yonder, sir, where there are a few dead horses,' I replied. How- ever, I scraped a hole for him somewhere else, and while I was moving the blanket, I discovered the body of a black, buried just below the surface, which my master had exposed by twisting and turning about in his restlessness. It gave me a bit of a shock, but I called out to one of my comrades to come and look, and we had a good laugh about it."

Although private soldiers may not be very curious as to the causes of the wars upon which they are engaged, they

are by no means blind to the generalship of their leaders, and Sergeant John Palmer, of the IlOth Regiment, has a good deal to say about the blundering in the Crimea. It is also note- worthy that the veterans of the Crimea and the Mutiny seem to be a good deal more contented with their lot, both in service and in retirement, than their younger comrades.

"The best shilling I ever saw in my life," writes James Hinton of the 58th, "was the one I took at Bromptou Barracks on the 6th of December, 1843, when I joined the 58th Regiment ;" but the sentiment, echoed by most of his contemporaries, does not seem to find a response in the minds of the younger soldiers of our more recent wars. Neverthe- less, we believe that it is still alive, though the soldier of to-day is too well educated a young man to confess to such an irrational feeling. At the bottom of his heart, we suspect, he is as keen about the glories of war, and as careless of its horrors —to use the words of the young Guardsman—as his father and grandfather before him.