Told in gallant deeds

by Marie Belloc Lowndes

Martial songs have always had a very great effect on armies taking the field. The British have a great many battle songs. The French have only the “Marseillaise.” The most famous German battle songs are “Deutschland, Deutschland über Alles,” and “Die Wacht am Rhein.” The marching song of the troops who fought under Marlborough was “Lillibullero.”

In the American Civil War there were many splendid songs sung by the men going into action, of which perhaps the best known is “John Brown’s body lies a’mouldering in the grave.” It is probable that nowadays, invoking the shade of Lincoln, Americans would swing into battle singing “We are coming, Father Abraham.”

There is a touching story to the effect that on one occasion when the two great opposing armies—the strenuous North and the chivalrous South—were actually only separated by a river, the soldiers on one side began singing “Annie Laurie,” and suddenly the refrain was heard floating over from the other side. Long after the deadly conflict which took place the next day was forgotten, the incident of the song was remembered in both Northern and Southern homes.

The instinctive fear felt and shown by the Germans of our cavalry, and the great deeds of valour performed by them in the Battle of Mons, recalls an exciting incident which occurred in the Indian Mutiny, when what was known as the Volunteer Cavalry, raised by Sir Henry Lawrence from among the unattached officers and civilians of Lucknow, did a marvellous feat of arms while on their way to that beleaguered city.

There came a moment when Lawrence saw himself in danger of being surrounded. He gave the order to retreat, a retreat which soon degenerated into a rout. On approaching the Kokral stream which ran across the road to Lucknow, about four hundred rebel cavalry were seen prepared to dispute the passage of the one bridge on which depended the safety of the fugitives. The situation was saved by the Volunteer Cavalry. Without a moment’s hesitation some thirty of them with their commander, Captain Radcliffe, at their head, hurled themselves at the dense mass in their front, and before they could strike a blow the enemy broke and fled, leaving the bridge free. To this splendid charge alone was due the fact that a remnant of the British force finally reached Lucknow in safety.

Let me recall in the same connection another tale of the Mutiny. It was during the night of the 19th of June, when an especially determined attack was made on the British position outside Delhi. Hope Grant, in command of the cavalry, kept back the fiercest attacks of the enemy on the rear of the British camp. At last, unhorsed, surrounded by the foe, he must have fallen, had not his sowar, or native orderly, Rooper Khan, ridden up to him saying, “Take my horse, sir, it is your only chance of safety!” Hope Grant refused, but taking a firm grip of the animal’s tail he was dragged by his sowar out of the mass of fighting men.

The British cavalry have been celebrated from the days of Julius Cæsar. In his famous Commentaries, Cæsar remarks of his brave British foes, “They display in battle the speed of horse with the firmness of infantry; and by daily practice and exercise attain to such expertness that they are accustomed, even on a declining and steep place, to check their horses at full speed and manage to turn them in an instant.”

The British cavalryman regards his horse as his friend. It is recorded that after each of the great cavalry charges at Mons the men, though in considerable danger of being “sniped,” went round and shot the poor wounded horses, so that they might be at once put out of their misery.

Those of you who have ponies of your own may like to hear how kindly and tenderly our battle-horses are treated. The Army Veterinary Corps, officered by fully trained veterinary surgeons, always accompanies our troops in the field. Immediately after an engagement these officers attend to those horses which are only slightly wounded, and send them along to a horse hospital if it be necessary.

As to what care horses should have on active service, opinions differ curiously. In a letter written by the Duke of Wellington to a cavalry officer, he begged him when in the field not to allow his men to dress their horses’ skins. “You have no conception how much warmth the animals derive from the dust which accumulates in their coats.”