Life in the Camp
From Brett's Hastings & St. Leonards Penny Press 1854
Where Drums Beat, Laws are Silent
We might well be tempted to ask ourselves whether or not we live in an age of enlightenment, of civilization, and in a portion of the world which is Christianized, when we reflect that instead of ”peace and goodwill,” brotherhood and sympathy, evidences of rivalry and deadly hostility so commonly present themselves. The whole civilized world, as it is called, bristles with fortresses; and ramparts and grinning cannon mark the boundaries, not only of nations but even of the pettiest states.
One of the most potent combinations which active military life presents is the Council of War. This is the source from whence the great manoeuvres which are to decide the fate of nations proceed. Here the chiefs of the expedition meet to discuss the policy of any important step before it is undertaken, as well as to determine the manner of its execution; and on the conclusions arrived at by about half a score of officers, the lives of hundreds, perhaps thousands, depend. Experience and judgment are therefore requisite qualifications for officers who share in council; and it is seldom that the slightest contingency escapes its due share of reflection. Charts and maps are consulted, the nature of the country is considered, and the probabilities of success or failure are weighed by that intelligence which makes knowledge superior to physical power. The deliberations in these affairs are sometimes very protracted. Each member expresses his peculiar views on the question before it, and at times the arguments are carried on with no little vehemence.
The proceedings of Councils of War rarely become public; the details are known only to those actually present. Some anecdotes, however, of the manner of Bonaparte in council have been related, which may be fresh to our readers. The Emperor, it is said, usually at first took no part in the proceedings, but leaning back in his chair, hacked his pencil to pieces with a pen-knife, or amused himself by drawing grotesque figures upon the paper placed on his table. All of a sudden, however, Bonaparte would put an end to the wordy warfare, by rising and saying, ”Enough!” He would then give a clear and concise summary of the whole proceedings, and put the question at once to the vote. When the will of the majority was at variance with his own opinion, he would merely say — ”Well, I must endeavour to persuade myself that I am in the wrong.”
On one occasion, when General Gassendi was arguing the necessity of a retrograde movement on the part of the army, and fortifying his opinion with some abstruse reasonings, Bonaparte interrupted him by exclaiming :— ”My dear fellow, who made you so well acquainted with these subjects?” The general endeavoured to make the best of it by saying :—“Sire, it was from yourself that I learned them.” ”One thousand cannons!” exclaimed the Emperor, with animation, ”what nonsense you talk! Such principles from me! Come, my dear Gassendi - you have been sleeping at your post, and have dreamt all this.” ”Sleep, indeed!” replied Gassendi, passionately, ”sleep at my post! I defy a marmot to sleep where you are: the turmoil that you keep us in, would be sufficient to banish sleep from the eyes of Morpheus himself.” This reply excited a general laugh, in which the Emperor joined most heartily, whilst Gassendi’s views were abandoned by common consent.
Turning from the Council of War, let us proceed to another scene in Camp Life, which though it may be less important in its results than the Council, is a no less powerful tribunal — the Drum-head Court-martial, Courts-martial are appointed under the provisions of the Mutiny Act, and are of various kinds—such as General, Garrison, Regimental, &c.
The General court-martial has the power of trying all military crimes, and of awarding sentence of death; the Garrison court-martial is assembled for the trial of non-commissioned officers and soldiers for desertion, theft, drunkenness, insubordination, or general misconduct; and the Regimental court-martial, which has the power only to try minor offences, not requiring the investigation of a higher tribunal.
The Drum-head court-martial is a commission which is usually resorted to in time of war; it is assembled in the camp, and the convictions and punishments awarded are of a character summary and severe. The soldier who comes before this court must resign himself to the fate which is reserved for him; for the notions of military justice are so arbitrary that the allegations of reasons for the committing of any act is generally considered an aggravation of the offence; and the best chance the soldier has of a lenient sentence is to promise future good behaviour and to rely on the mercy of the court.
A few brief questions constitute the nature of the trial, and sentence is given, Whether this sentence be death, the lash, or any other punishment, it is immediately carried into effect. Fearful as death under such circumstances may be, corporal chastisement is often the most dreaded decision, Witnessed by his comrades, before whom he is tied up as an example of what will be awarded for misconduct, the degradation of the man is complete, and very often final: with spirits broken, he henceforward detests the service, and most commonly at the first opportunity deserts. Recently, at Sebastopol, two of our soldiers who had received corporal punishment, found means to desert to the Russians; the feelings which they must experience when forced in the contest to fire on their comrades cannot be envied.
Much has been said in favour of the abolition of corporal punishment in our army and navy, but though, happily, such fearful inflictions as five hundred lashes are abolished by act of parliament, (fifty being the highest number permitted,) the ”cat” is not yet banished from either service.
When we reflect that the rigid discipline to which the soldier is subjected is accompanied by all sorts of hardships and deprivations, we shall be ready to admit that the profession of arms is not the most desirable pursuit, and that however the ”pomp and circumstance” of military life may excite our admiration, there is a darker side to the picture. The correspondent of the Times, writing after the battle of Inkermann, makes the following apt remarks upon this subject :-—
“We have out here ‘ soldiering with the gilding off,’ and many a young gentleman would be for ever cured of his love of arms if he could but see one day’s fighting, and have one day’s parade of the men who do it, Many of our soldiers have no shoes or stockings, and a great number may be seen with tattered and patched uniforms, and the long boots of the Russian soldiers, which have been taken from the enemy’s slain. As to young ladies suffering from ‘scarlet fever’—the pupils of the L. E. L. school, who are for ever thinking of heroes and warriors, singing of champions, of ‘crowning conquerors’ brows with flowers,’ and wishing for ' Arab steeds and falchions bright,’ if they could but for one moment have stood beside me and gazed into one of the pits where some thirty ’clods of the valley,’ all covered with scarlet and blue cloth, with lace and broidery, and blood, were lying side by side and staring up at heaven
with their sightless orbs, as they were about to be consigned to the worm, they would feel the horrors of their hero-worship, and would join in prayer for the advent of that day—if come it ever may—when war shall be no more, and when the shedding of blood shall cease.”
There is another scene in Camp Life, which, however necessary it may be to the preservation of discipline, cannot but furnish matter of the deepest regret and sorrow to both soldier and civilian. It is the Military Execution. Desertion, Mutiny, or other high crimes are punishable by this death, which is effected by a volley of musketry from a detachment ordered for the execution. If the volley does not effectually extinguish life, it is the duty of an officer called the provost-marshal to place a pistol to the soldier's head and so put a period to his existence.
Another kind of execution not uncommonly occurs in the camp during active warfare — and this is the punishment usually accorded to the spy. Though it may require considerable courage or temerity to enter a hostile camp with a view of communicating with the opposing army, still there is something in such courage so nearly allied to the boldness of the snake, which crawls stealthily forward, and attacks in an unguarded moment, that an ignominious death seems the only fitting reward for those who are discovered. In such cases this punishment is invariably awarded — the spy is conducted to a hurriedly constructed gibbet, from which he is soon suspended; or should time be short, he is placed at the mouth of an hastily dug grave, a file of soldiers is called out, and the roll of the musketry tells that the fatal act has been consummated.
A melancholy instance of a military execution occurred during the American war, in the case of the unfortunate Major Andre. This lamented British officer, desirous of bringing his country with honour from an unequal and disastrous contest, offered his services in a secret expedition to negotiate terms of peace between General Arnold and General Sir Henry Clinton. On his return he was taken prisoner by the Americans within their lines, and owing to his disguise and the nature of his mission, was tried and condemned to be hung as a spy, (Oct. 2, 1780.) On going to the place of execution, he said, with concern, “ Must I die in this manner?” Being told it was unavoidable, he replied, ”I am reconciled to my fate, but not to the mode; it will, however, be but a momentary pang. You will witness to the world that I die like a brave man.” It is but just to the Americans to say that his death was viewed by a great portion of them as an unwarranted stretch of military authority; whilst the British nation evinced their remembrance of his fate by the erection of a monument to him in Westminster Abbey.
The advantage which is naturally given to a general by an early knowledge of the position, prospects, and intentions of the opposing army, has led most commanders to the employment of spies, and during the operations before Sebastopol, several have been taken on both sides. We have seen that in our own camps there is little compunction as to the fate of the spy, but if the Russians have distinguished themselves in nothing else, they have attained especial celebrity for their barbarities. The spies, and indeed prisoners in general, have been subjected to tortures as well as death ; and it is stated on reliable authority, that in some cases crucifixion has been inflicted!
When, however, we recal(sic) the atrocities of Suwarrow, during the close of the last century, we shall feel that the Russians are maintaining, rather than attaining their notoriety for excessive cruelty. The siege of Ismael, with which Suwarrow’s name is especially associated, occurred many years ago (1790); but as it is a memorable instance of what Russian ministers and generals are capable, we will give the facts of that terrible affair. The siege had been carried on for several months, and 20,000 Russians had been slain, when Prince Potemkin, the favourite of the infamous Catherine II., sent peremptory orders for its reduction within three days, at whatever cost. Suwarrow stormed the stronghold, and the Turkish garrison, consisting of 30,000 men were put to the sword - every man was butchered, and Suwarrow, not satisfied with this vengeance, delivered up Ismael to the pillage of his ferocious soldiery, and 6,000 women were murdered in cold blood.
The Potemkins and Suwarrows of Catherine have their representatives in the favourites of Nicholas. If Potemkin says “Ismael must be taken“ the Czar himself says “Silistria must be taken ;“ — though, in spite of his imperial command, it was not. If Suwarrow delivers a town to the butchery of his Cossacks, Menschikoff directs the slaying of the wounded French and English on the field of Inkermann.
But atrocities of an equally cruel character have occurred since those enacted by the Russians after the glorious battle of the 5th of November. Vessels stranded by the hurricane, and drowning sailors battling with the storm, have been fired upon from the cliffs by Cossacks and Russians. Defenceless, and in the distress of shipwreck, the barbarians murdered our brave fellows as they struggled with the waves, and ever brought down field-pieces to aid in their destruction. The details of the storm of the 13th of November, in the Black Sea, are terrible enough in themselves, as furnishing a list of disasters of the deep; but human nature revolts at the conduct of these savages. A correspondent of The Times thus describes the scene :—
“The Firebrand and many other vessels have stranded on the coast, and are being surrounded by the prowling detachments of Cossacks and Russians, Every poor fellow they caught, half drowned and unarmed as he was, they handcuffed and sent off. One French bark was full of soldiers, at which the enemy kept up a continual fire; the poor wretches, clinging to the bulwarks for safety, afforded an excellent mark for the Russians, who took advantage of it, And yet these savages call themselves Christians!
”About forty or fifty men belonging to the 95th regiment were rescued and taken on board the Queen. The Cossacks on the beach fired on the retreating boats and killed a seaman in one of them. The enemy closed the day by firing a smart volley upon a bark round whose yawning sites twenty or thirty men were desperately clinging.”
If we reflect on the subject of war, we may remark that though generations pass, times change, and circumstances alter, too much.of the passions and evil nature of man remains to mark any great revolutions, morally speaking, in a Life in the Camp. Divest victory of its false trappings of glory, and what a picture of human cruelty is presented!
