“At Bannockburn I served the Bruce
Of which the Inglis had no ruse;”
and an Italian blade has on it—
“Draw me not without cause,
Sheath me not without honour.”
In other cases the mottoes are of a religious cast as “In te Domine,” “There is no conqueror but God,” “Do not abandon me, O faithful God,” and so on. Lastly, some swords bear the names or monograms of the places where they were made, or persons who forged them. Thus Solingen in Germany and Sahagun in Spain were noted for sword blades, and the former is so still. Many of the early makers take their names from the town in which they worked or were born, as Alonzo de Sahagun and Andrea di Ferrara did.
After the close of the Peninsular War, the usual rapid reduction of the national armed strength followed. Hardly had Wellington returned to England than the Volunteer and Yeomanry Corps, as well as the militia, were disembodied; but, for the first time, there was a delay in the reduction of the regular forces. The prolonged war had still further, for a time at least, caused the nation to forget its former prejudice against a standing army. It had got accustomed, at least, to its existence, and on the civil life of the country was reflected the military glory won by its sons in foreign war. There had been much almost personal antagonism to the pretensions and aggressions of France, and this had led, more than anything else perhaps, to the feeling that the army was after all but an integral portion of the Commonwealth, and need not be, and had no intention of being, hostile to the national peace at home. To this gradual increase in political freedom was added less fear of the sovereign. The time had passed since any King of England either could, or would, use the army (in the way the Stuarts wanted to do) as a means of repressing the people or their freedom. Englishmen had got over this childish dread lest the soldiery should be used actively against them. The national police that had protected abroad the commerce of the land and kept its shores practically inviolate was no longer feared. It was expensive now. That was all.
The reductions in the time to come, therefore, were but economic questions, and when the national pocket was pinched, the army was reduced as the readiest and easiest means of meeting the deficit. It was no longer feared, had even become respected and respectable; but its keeping up was a matter of taxation. All reformers seek to reduce this burden, and what so easy as to lessen the cost of a machine, the value of which in the past may have been great, and only possibly might be of equal value in the future? But in the immediate present (at any period in this century) the reformer merely looked at things as they then were, and carefully put off till the to-morrow what it would have been less costly to do quietly to-day. Such politicians do not see that the ominous war-cloud means war risks, greater haste, higher prices, and more expenditure. But it matters little to them so long as retrenchment, whether wise or not is immaterial, comes to them. “What has posterity done for them,” that they should trouble about a future that only concerns their children? And yet, if these same economists were to put off life insurance until age and waning health came, they would consider such a course more than unbusiness-like. The nation had by sheer force of circumstances been led to see the value of the national insurance—the army; but it was reluctant to effect as sound an insurance in this respect as the case needed. The story of all voluntary armies has practically been the same.
With the cessation of hostilities came the shower of rewards, but with a considerable reservation. Ensigns of the Guards were to rank as lieutenants, and the 1st Foot Guards were made “Grenadiers.” Generals were made peers, and the knighthood of the Bath expanded to decorate others. But Tommy Atkins, who did the fighting? He got nothing, save discharge on a full or a limited pension, ranging between sixpence and a shilling a day, or Chelsea Hospital! His sole reward was the increase of pay of his sergeant-major, the addition of a colour-sergeant at two-and-fourpence a day to each company, and, some thirty years later, for those who survived—a medal! Never were the rank and file of an army that had done so much rewarded at so exceedingly cheap a rate.
The necessity for keeping the regular army on a war footing after 1815, still remained so long as there was an army of occupation, 25,000 strong, to be kept in France. In 1816, therefore, the numerical strength of the army was 175,615 men, exclusive of those employed in India. But when that occupation ceased, a reduction of 26,000 men followed as a matter of course, and most of the cadres of regiments were reduced to a very low peace strength.