DUST OF THE PAST

Taranaki Daily News, 21 October 1933, Page 1 (Supplement)

DUST OF THE PAST

MOMENTOUS DAYS

(By

“Historicus.”)

There have been many bad days in the history of the countries of the world. Irishmen may generally consider that their distressful land has had more than its share, and October 23, 1641, they might certainly claim as one of the blackest days of their history, for it saw the opening of the terrible Irish rebellion, which left an awful impression that still lives in tradition. “The causes,” says history, “were for the most part long standing. Their religion had been ruthlessly persecuted; their property had been confiscated by whole provinces at a time. Their ancient chiefs had been driven from the land, and many of them exterminated. Elizabeth, James and Charles had preferred them new titles on condition of making large sacrifices, but had never kept their word.” The hopes of the Irish had been stimulated and excited by the successful resistance made by the Scotch to the arbitrary measures of Charles I. Incited by various members of the Irish aristocracy the native Irish determined, therefore, to rise on this day the 23rd of October and attack Dublin Castle as a preliminary. It happened that the secret was divulged by one, Hugh McMahon, in a drunken fit, but ignorant of the failure of the plot the people of Ulster rose on the day appointed, and in little more than a week all the open country in Tyrone and surroundings was in their hands. Accounts of the horrors of the insurrection i differ, but at least fifty thousand persons were butchered in cold blood. It was a bad, black day in the history of Ireland; a day that had undoubtedly been created by misgovernment, but one for which it is impossible to find adequate excuse.

In the light of the sanguinary battles on the Western Front during the world war, the battle of Edgehill, which took place on October 23, 1642, reads like a somewhat amusing skirmish. And yet it was a very important affair for England, being the first blow struck in the great civil war which was to decide whether King or Parliament should rule. It was an indecisive fight, both parties claiming the victory. At the end of the day they would appear to have stopped for a rest, as the firing ceased, and both armies stood looking at each other until the darkness fell. Then the Royalists marched back to their hill. It was said that gunpowder ran out in Essex’s army, otherwise he would have chased the royal army up the hill. If remaining on the battlefield, and being the last to march aWay, are any criterions of success, then the victory must go to Essex, as we read that his men lay on the field all night and partook of meat and beer. The fiery Prince Rupert acted up to his reputation for impetuosity. When he was at the head of a body of horse, he would carry all before him—being rarely seen again upon the field of battle until the fight was over, and he himself returned from the chase into which he had been drawn. This is exactly what happened at Edgehill, much to the discomfiture of his own side. Five thousand is given as the number killed, but the clergyman of Kineton who buried them, gives it as only 1200.' Compared with the scientific slaughter of this more civilised period it seems a very primitive affair. * * * •

Perhaps next to the date of the battle of Hastings that of Balaclava, October 25, 1854, is the best remembered of all English battles. On the other hand if it had not been for the famous charge of the Light'Brigade it would as likely have taken its place in the long list of forgotten dates. The charge rather overshadowed the battle. The campaign in the Crimea was generally responsible for some colossal mistakes, but certainly the most extraordinary of them all was the order for some six hundred men to charge the Russian army, for that was to what it amounted. The actual battle itself was brought about by the Russian General, Prince Mentschikoff, moving a body of 30,000 men on Balaclava with the idea of getting possession of the harbour and cutting off allied supplies. Sir Colin Campbell checked the advance on Balaclava and the enemy was driven back in confusion. Lord Raglan, thinking the 'Russians were about to retire from a captured redoubt, ordered Lord Lucan in charge of the Light Brigade to follow and harrass their retreat. Unfortunately by the time they were prepared to carry out the order the Russian cavalry had reformed, and 'the main body of Liprandi’s army corps had advanced to the bottom of the valley. Despite the change in the position of affairs Lord Lucan considered he was bound to obey orders, and so the Light Brigade set out on its fatal ride. They succeeded in cutting their, way right through the enemy’s lines, to struggle back again through the valley with the Russian artillery playing on them from front, flank and rear. The utter futility of the charge only heightened its amazing effrontery. Its heroism is an epic, despite its culpable recklessness. After this charge the battle petered out,, and might be said to have been indecisive.

With the Great War still strong in the minds of people of to-day, the history of Germany’s military leaders has an interest above the ordinary. Playing for world domination Germany was led through paths of military glory to the final cataclysm of 1914, when, with a long line of martial successes behind them, the military minds of the .Fatherland burst all civilised fetters in their desire for the supreme and long meditated victory. Had they then possessed a Bismarck and a Moltke history might have been vastly different. The father of Field Marshal Count von Moltke, who was born on October 26, 1800, was a Danish general, but owing to the loss of the family fortune, his early years were not devoid of hardship. In 1822 he entered the Prussian army as cornet. Some years were spent with the Turkish Army. His return saw rapid promotion, and in 1858 he became the Chief of the General Staff. Wars with Denmark and Austria added. lustre; the end of the war with France in 1870 saw him a Count with the rank of Field Marshal. He is described as'a man of great modesty and simplicity: a linguist, he was yet given so little to talk, that he is said to have been a man who could be silent in seven languages.

It is stated authoritatively that his plans for the war of 1870 were so well prepared that when hostilities broke out all he had to do was to touch a bell, and tell his aide where to find the plans in a drawer of his desk. Germany looked upon him as a superman. Perhaps he was. He might also be described as one of the men who by his own brilliance led Germany to over-estimate itself as a nation.