BRITISH REVERSES IN THE PAST.
" IAM surprised that a single soul survives a battle," wrote the Prince de Ligne in a well-known passage. "How shall you not die of grief if you lose, or of joy if you win ? " That is the view of a rhapsodist who fought, not for his country, but for fighting's sake ; and it is not strange that when the day was done his heart should throb to a personal emotion. But when the battle is for the soldier's own land, he is moved by a, deeper feeling than grief or joy. It is not that his own courage is satis- fied, that his own life is safe ; rather he is touched by another service done to his native country ; and, remem- bering this, he is patient in reverse, as he is watchful in victory.
And none know better than the soldier that victory is seldom won without reverse and disappointment. The just war which we are waging in Africa has not falsified the lessons of history. Opposed by a gallant, well-trained foe, we have discovered that the road to Pretoria cannot be opened without a struggle. Our arms, in fact, have received the check imposed upon them by the laws of war ; and the sturdy confidence with which the people have received the evil news is a better proof of the national spirit than the somewhat windy enthusiasm of the music- halls. Moreover, the national confidence is amply justified. We have been fighting up and down the world for cen- turies; our vast Empire has given us plenty of work, even when we seemed to be at peace ; and no country knows better than Britain that reverses or checks may with patience and courage be presently converted into a triumph.
Our enemies of the Continent, deaf to the voice of his- tory, are eager to explain that the Colossus has feet of clay, because the Colossus has encountered an unexpected opposi- tion. But these enemies easily turn hope into belief, and to their hope we are happily indifferent. Moreover, we know that Britain, like other countries, has met with reverses before, and never yet have reverses discouraged her. The sum of our record, indeed, is success ; its details have not seldom been failures, and no better consolation can be found for the moment than the memory of disasters which we have viewed with equanimity and with patience have overcome. The long series of our wars in America, for instance, against the Indians and French closed with Wolfe's heroic capture of Quebec. But during the preceding years victory was not always with us ; one small army was cut to pieces because Braddock, himself a miracle of bravery, em- ployed against unseen Indians precisely the same tactics which he would have practised against a European force fighting in the open. Yet Braddock's disaster deterred us not for a moment. Our faults of ignorance and courage were corrected, and our reverse obscured by the heroic death of the General, who fell from the fifth horse he had mounted in the battle. A still worse defeat overtook us in India when (in 1804) Holkar, after Scindia's conquest, attacked General Monson in the Makundra Pass and destroyed nine-tenths of his twelve thousand troops. What the effect of such an episode would be on the English newspapers of to-day we know not; but in those days news travelled slowly, and Wellesley's laconic account is rather angry than regretful. " Monson's disasters," he wrote, " are really the greatest and the most disgraceful to our military character of any that have ever occurred. The detachment had not two days' provisions ; was cut off from its resources by many rivers, on which we had neither bridge nor boat ; and all measures to supply the only fort (Runpoora) to which, in case of emergency, he might have recourse, were omitted. To employ the detachment at all was an error ; but the common modes of securing its safety have been omitted." There we have the just censure of the soldier, not the useless regret of the man ; and for military despatches the old style is indubitably the best. Who knows but that the more squeamish delicacy of to day might have construed the victory of Assaye into a "reverse"? For though Wellesley won the battle, and destroyed the power of Scindia, he lost 50 per cent. of his small army, a fact which may teach us the lesson that nothing is gained without a sacrifice.
But in the beginning of this century we committed far greater faults than Aronson's or Braddock's. They, at any rate, failed in sincere attempts to achieve something. Some other soldiers who led us to misfortune just before Waterloo restored our supremacy had little or no excuse for their folly. In the second volume of Mr. Fitchett's excellent work, "How England Saved Europe," are detailed a long list of sporadic expeditions which could only have ended in failure. Not only did we take, cede, and retake half-a-dozen precious colonies; not only did we relinquish Java because a certain statesman did not know its whereabouts ; but we sent armies hither and thither to their certain destruction. What Whitelocke did in Buenos Ayres should still bring a blush to our cheek. In 1806 Sir Home Popham, being in Table Bay, suddenly determined to make a descent upon Spanish South America. The design was executed with- out forethought or deliberation, and its conclusion was inevitable. Major - General Beresford, with a handful of soldiers, took Buenos Ayres, it is true, and a vast deal of treasure. But the Spaniards, soon realising that they were more than a match for their enemy, besieged Beresford, and forced him to capitulate. This was bad enough, but the worst is yet un- told. A year later General Whitelocke took the command at Buenos Ayres, and being no soldier, involved his army in a crushing disaster. But even after the disaster he held two strong positions in the town ; he had, moreover, five thousand troops, and a fleet as his base. Had he been a man of courage he would have retrieved his mistake. He was, however, a poltroon who dishonoured his uniform, and when "the Spanish general sent in a letter offering to give up all his prisoners" —to quote Mr. Fitchett—" including those taken under Beresford, if the British would abandon operations and leave the coast, Whitelocke meekly accepted the terms, marched off his disgusted and almost mutinous army to his ships, and sailed off—to everlasting infamy."
After this story of shame, Duckworth's defeat in the Dardanelles, where the Turks pounded him with granite shot, is a pleasant interlude. For however much we may deplore Duckworth's lack of prudence, his honour is in- violate. Nor can the reverse at Rosetta, where another gallant Wauchope fell, inspire more than a bitter regret, —since at Rosetta, too, the British proved their bravery, and were only unsuccessful because they had been set a task which was beyond human accomplishment. And we will close this list of checks with one other, which is more interesting for the comment which it evoked than for the punishment which it inflicted. On May 16th, 1811, was fought the battle of Albuera, in which the allies lost seven thousand men. It was not precisely a check, because, though both armies remained on the field, Soult presently retired. But Wellington believed that had he been there he would have turned it to a victory. And surely his description should be re- membered by all our generals now at the front. "The battle of Albuera," he wrote to Mr. Pole, "was a strange concern. They were never determined to fight it ; they did not occupy the ground as they ought ; they were ready to run away at any moment from the time it com- menced till the French retired ; and, if it had not been for me, who am now suffering from the disorganisation caused by that battle, they would have written a whining report upon it, which would have driven the people in England mad. However, I prevented that."
"I prevented that" With these fine, arrogant words Wellington points our moral. We do not suppose that any report would send the people of England mad. But under no circumstances do we desire to read "whining reports." The mere lines of history sketched in this article prove that reverses are but the antechambers of victory. As we are brave enough to fight our foes, so we are patient enough to endure a necessary check. But, again, we do not want "whining reports.'" Nowadays, every shot fired in Africa is instantly echoed in London, and for that reason our generals should cultivate a chaste and reticent style. They should not exaggerate in their despatches their own failure, or their men's prowess. The time isnot yet when the history of the Boer War shall be written, but we confess that while we have a profound confidence in Sir George White, Sir Redvers Buller, and Lord Methuen, we dislike the despatches of all three. When Sir George White assumed the blame which was his ; when Sir Beavers Buller "regretted" a reverse which was an incident in the campaign ; when Lord Methuen :1)ilie of "the hottest fight" in our annals, they seem to have caught the vice of sensational jour- nalism. So it is well to remember our past reverses, and to rejoice that the worst fault wherewith we have to reproach our present generals is a fault of style.
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