THE OLD ARMY.

Press, Volume LXVI, Issue 19942, 31 May 1930, Page 13

THE OLD ARMY.

I COMPLETION OF A GREAT | history. ISMCUIi? WBITTSJf FOB 1'«« [By CTBANO.'j I used to belong in an ° o uce), (Gawd 1 What a rum little A lmj « find little, dead little, Arm: Thirty-one years ago there wore pub lished in London two volumes of "A History of the British Aitny, wine covered the period from the Battto ot Hastings to the Peace of Pans in 1/C". It was obvious that tho historian, Mr J. \V. Fortcscue, must have begun worl; on such a vast subject some years earlier. In the thirteenth volume, which was published this year, Sir John Forteseuo completes the task that he set himself from thirty to forty years ago, of writing a history of the Army up to the year 1370. It was iu the seventies that the old long-service Arm}, with its numbered regiments 01 the line, died and the new short service territorially-named Army took its place The completion of this great woilc has naturally attracted attention in the English Press. It is one of tho greatest tasks of the kind ever attempted singlehanded, and it is particularly noteworthy in an age when s tory writing by committees has become common. In an editorial appreciation of Sir John Fortescue's work "The Times" recalls that twenty-throe years elapsed between the date when Gibbon thought of writing "The Decline and Fall," and the night of its completion, and it adds that among English historians only Samuel Ravvson Gardiner can match him for pertinacity and endurance. Twice the task was nearly abandoned. Though the history is tho standard one, and has probably had as great a sale as can be reasonably expected of such a work, the material reward has been trifling. Some yeaTS ago Sir John worked out the return in terms of a daily wage, and, if I remember rightly, this was somewhero about eight shillings. King Edward came to the historian's rescue by appointing him librarian at Windsor, and King George renewed the appointment. Sir John's engagement as an official historian of the Great War mado a break, and the enormous increase in the cost of production raised difficulties, but the historian had much of the doffzedness of the British infantryman, who is the real hero of his history. "Not to ««-ery man," says "The Times," "is it given to conceive a great design for his life's work, to find his powers equal to it, to carry it, through, and to taste the joy of accomplishment that was granted to Milton but denied to Virgil." It should be added that these thirteen volumes are not the whole of his life work. From the gleanings of his military research he has constructed most interesting volumes. If, for example, you wish to know (and it js well worth knowing) who the Gillespie was who "rode to false Velloro" in Newbolt's spirited poem, you will find the fascinating story among other such forgotten odds and ends of an army that had to police half the world. And no one who read it has forgotten Bir John's annihilating review of Lord French's account of his own generalship in 1914. This groat history revives the much debated question of historical method. Great learning has gone to the making of it. There is no rival in the field, nor is there likely to be. Sir John, however, is an open hero-worshipper and villain-exposer. His opinions are very decided) and he expresses them strongly. Not for him tho neutral presentation of some historians. Tho politician is the villain, because he lets the soldier hero down. Sir John, therefore, often exposes himself to attack. But ho has the supreme and rate merit of being readable, far more so, I should say, than Gardiner, bis rival in long and undaunted industry. No doubt one reason why he is readable is that he does let ns seo plainly his opinions and his personality. A "Mercury" critic says of him that he makes no attempt to win over the reader, his judgments are hard and uncompromising and his language brusque, but what he writes is read with avidity. "It has been of him that never has so much solid learning, unseasoned by urbanity, appeared in so palatable a form." The expla-

nation given is that he knows just what ho wants to tsay and says it directly and clearly in plain nervous English. But his plainness does not exclude the flowers of writing, as will bo seen in these two examples cited by a writer in "The Times Literary Supplement":—

Silent and iiiesorab'lfc the scarlet line' strode on. They came abreast of Tillage and redoubt, and the shot which had hitherto swept away flies now swept awav runlc«. Then tho first lino passed beyond redoubt and village, and tho French cannon took it in reverse. The gaps grew wider and more frequent. tho front grew narrower as the men closed up, but still the proud battalions advanced, strewing tho sward behind them with scarlet, like somo masii of red blossom that floats down a lazy stream and sheds its petals as it goes. Half an hour before tho .French retired Abcrcromby stopped short in liis pacing to and fro within the Guards' redan, and sank fainting to the ground. Refusing to leave tho field, he wrs propped against the parapet; but. at length, when Meuou had fairly drawn off his troops, ho consented that his wound should bo examined by a surgeon of the Guards, who advised that he should be carried on board ship without delay. He was therefore lifted on to a litter, where Lieutenant John Macdonald of the Queen's laid a folded blanket under his head for a pillow. "What is that you are placing under my headl" asked Aborcromby. "Only f soldier's blanket," answered Macdonald. Only a soldier's blanket!" retorted the other; "a soldier's blanket is of great consequence, and you must send me the name of tho soldier to whom it belongs, that it may be returned to him." This was the last order over given by Balph Abercroinby.

Not only good writing but good history, comments tho. critic, for it explains Abercromby's hold on his men. It may bo thought to-day, when the world is with infinite pain recovering from the greatest of wars, and organisation against war is receiving more attention than at any previous period, that a work this size on the British Army is scarcely worth while. The history of the Army, however, is inoxtricably interwoven with tho history of Britain and the Empire, and even if armies were abolished to-morrow this record of ardours and endurances, stupidities and heroisms, would bo absorbingly interesting. You eannot understand the British Empire without knowing something of the British Army. It is commonly said that the British are not a military people. Sir John insists that tho building up of the Empire proves that they are. Certainly no army in history has had a more wonderful Tecord, and no army, not even the Eoman, has ever fought in so many places. It would be truer to say that tho British are not a militaristic people. The treatment of the soldier in British history is as shameful as it is remarkable. It illustrates British illogicality, snobbishness, and stupidity, though it also illustrates, in the determination to subordinate military to civilian control, British wisdom. Tlio Empire was won and held by a despised force that was shockingly treated by tho military system and neglected by the nation the moment the flush of victory was over. To lead soldiers was the occupation of a gentleman, but to be a soldier was to be one of a brutal and licentious band. The ranks were recruited from the oppressed agricultural labourer class —it has been said that whilo tho labourer was away fighting the battles of his masters, thoso masters stole his land—and from the scourings of tho towns. The men were treated with a ferocity and a stupidity that are wellnigh incredible to us to-day; witness the system of punishments, and the wearing of tight "stocks" and heavy uniforms in the tropics. No doubt it was thought that if they were treated as human beings discipline would go to the dogs. It was not until our time that the Army was really humanised. Years before the Great War it was predicted that another Badajoz might be stormed, but that it would not bo sacked, and the reformed army lived up to the compliment. The British Regular Army had never been more formidable in attack or defence than it was in 1914; indeed, it may bo said that, it had never been through an ordeal so terrible as the first battle of Ypres. One marvels that the old army of the Napoleonic wars and of many a campaign in later years achieved such results with such material and under such a system. Most people know the names of its principal battles, but these battles are only a hundredth part of the record. Soldiers fought and suffered and died in many a "side-show" that is forgotten today, and their endurance and cheerfulness were as remarkable as their valour. But, says Sir John, and eurelv this is the finest thing in the thirteen volumes, the Army will be romombered best not for this valour and endurance, but for "its lenience in conquest and its gentleness in domination." There has been no army like it in history. It has subdued foe after foe, but it has been the servant, uot the master of the nation, and until recently the despised servant. The epitaph that A. E. Housman wrote for the new model army that was shot away in France and Flanders while the citizen army was being organised, will servo also for the Old Guard that Sir John writes of:

These in the day when heaven was falling, Tho hour when earth's foundations fled, Followed their mercenary calling And took their wages and are dead. Their shoulders held the sky suspended; They stood, and earth's foundations stay; What God abandoned, these defended. And saved the sum of things for pay.

Sir John Portescue thinks the future historian may say that the builders of the Empire were not worthy of such an army. He himself has raised it a noble monument.