CHAPTER ONE
VICTORIAâS SOLDIERS
During the nineteenth century, literacy, and therefore the ability to record oneâs experiences, was to be found only in a minority of those in the ranks of the British Army. Only the Royal Engineers and a few specialist corps expected new recruits to know how to read and write. Most officers were well educated and had sufficient leisure time to write home on a regular basis, and the surviving correspondence reflects this. However, as the century progressed more letters survive from those in the ranks and this reflects âthe increased access to education both in the community at large and within the British Army itselfâ.1 By 1856, schools operated in nearly every permanent detachment of troops, and Army regulations specified a minimum school attendance of four hours per week. However, the compulsion to attend such lessons was removed in 1861 and for the next ten years the effectiveness of the provision depended on the individual commanding officers.
It has been stated that 60% of the soldiers in the Crimean War (1854â56) line infantry regiments were illiterate.2 In 1860, Sergeant Gowing of the 7th Royal Fusiliers would regularly write letters home for his comrades. Troop Sergeant-Major Mole of the 14th Hussars was the only one in his barracks of fifteen troopers who could read and write. In return for his literary services, Mole had his comrades clean his kit for him.3 Soldiers with such skills even managed to get into print. Private Charles Wickens of the 9th Regiment wrote an Indian Mutiny Journal, in which he took exception to some of the reports seen in the British newspapers. Even the famous reporter William Russell of The Times did not escape Wickensâ criticism. Wickens can, however, be viewed very much as an exception.
In 1861 the government gave an indirect boost to the education of soldiers by setting literacy and arithmetic standards that were required for promotion. The Third Class Certificate was necessary for promotion to the rank of corporal. This required the candidate to read aloud and to write down a dictated passage, as well as to work examples in arithmetic and show a complete understanding of the use of money. The Second Class Certificate was necessary for promotion to sergeant and this entailed writing and dictation from a more difficult text, familiarity with all forms of regimental accounting and an understanding of fractions, interest and averages. The First Class Certificate was aimed at those wishing to rise from the ranks and obtain a commission and was a great deal more difficult. Whilst these Certificates did succeed in motivating men of ability to advance their education and career, they did little to resolve the high levels of illiteracy amongst the ranks.
To tackle this issue the Army introduced a new Fourth Class Certificate for all soldiers in 1871, as well as the compulsory attendance at classes of five hours per week for all new recruits. The Certificate was designed to reflect a level of reading and writing that an eight-year-old child was expected to achieve. At first the Army made meteoric claims as to the success of the new Certificate and in 1889 the director-general of military education claimed that 85% of the rankers possessed âa superior level of educationâ,4 which only meant that they had reached the very low standards of the Fourth Certificate. However, it soon became clear that even this claim was wildly optimistic, when it was reported that over 60% of the rank and file were either unwilling to even sit for the Certificate or unable to pass it.5 The lack of participation resulted in the demise of the Fourth Class Certificate, as well as the end of compulsory schooling. It was now expected that each regiment would make provision for voluntary schooling. At the same time, the standards required for promotion were raised, such that the possession of a Second Class Certificate was required for promotion to corporal and for promotion to sergeant the First Class was expected. Such a voluntary approach appeared to be successful with the number of rankers who passed the Third Class Certificate rising by over 30% from 1870â1896.
Illiteracy â defined as the inability to read or write oneâs own name â diminished dramatically by the end of the century to virtually nothing. However, despite modest improvements, fewer than 40% of the rank and file had achieved more than the barest level of literacy and the âstandard reached by the majority of those in the ranks was elementary at bestâ.6 Despite all the efforts of the Army, it was probably Foresterâs Education Act of 1870 â which provided the guidelines for compulsory elementary education â that resulted in improvements in literacy in the Army and across the country.
Thus the aptitude for reading and writing amongst the rank and file of the Victorian Army was far from widespread. Yet, the reluctance or inability to pass the Fourth Class Certificate did not necessarily mean that soldiers were unable to correspond with their loved ones back home. The erratic spelling and grammar in many of the surviving correspondence did not stop letters being written and sent, and where such letters are quoted in the text I have resisted the temptation to correct errors and misspelt placenames, and have remained faithful to the original.
The practicalities of finding the time and the tools to write home whilst on active service were a severe limitation. George Milman of the Royal Artillery was forced to suspend his Crimean War diary on 30 December 1854 on account of âink frozen, no means of writing. Have no pencil.â7 Milman resumed his diary on 16 January 1855, presumably when his ink had thawed. Soldiers begged, borrowed or stole in order to find materials with which to write. As Private George Morris of the 1st Battalion, 24th Regiment explained in a letter to his father from South Africa in March 1878, âFor the last four months I have been unable to procure either stamp, pen, ink or paper ⌠I am getting this paper and stamp from a Volunteer captain, or God knows when I shall be able to write.â8 If paper could be bought it was often expensive; 6d a sheet in Egypt in the 1880s was not uncommon. Troops pleaded in their letters home for more paper to be sent out to them, and some even resorted to writing on clothing or knapsacks.9 Finding the time to write home whilst on campaign was also sometimes difficult. In a letter to his brother, Private J. Davies, who served in the Duke of Edinburghâs Own Volunteer Reserve during the Basuto War in South Africa in 1880, wrote that he was âfilled with regret for not writing to you oftener, but there is much work here, one night picket another guard duty, the day, drill, clothes washing, cooking etc, etc.â10
Yet when soldiers did find the time, writing often became the main leisure pursuit. In his masterful work on the Boer War (1899â1902), Thomas Pakenham described how British troops would write at every opportunity and that letters âlittered the veld at every camp site.â11 Similarly, Archibald Forbes, the special correspondent of the Daily News during the Zulu War (1879), recorded that letter-writing was the chief relaxation of the men in their encampments.12
Brigadier-General F.P. Cozier had been a corporal in Thorneycroftâs Mounted Infantry and fought at the Battle of Spion Kop (24â25 January 1900). He was one of those rare individuals who rose from the ranks to a senior position in the officer corps and as such he could claim to have a real understanding of what motivated the British soldier. In his memoirs of 1930 he wrote
No officer can possibly realise the lack of interest which the private soldier displays in the âbig ideasâ of a commander unless he has been a private himself. The cleaning of arms, ammunition and equipment, the care of horses, the drudgery of fatigues and working parties confront him and he does them. The variation of his diet interests him at the time, and a dry bed (or a soft one, if he can get it) appeals to him much; beyond that nothing matters. He marches, counter-marches, deploys, goes into action, comes out of it and then does the hundred and one things which soldiers do collectively without question. It is the only way; if it were otherwise, battles could never be fought or wars waged.13
An examination of soldiersâ letters supports Cozierâs assertion, for they do indeed reflect the everyday obsession with diet and comfort; but the letters also demonstrate the importance soldiers placed upon letters from home. Writing to his brother from the Zulu campaign of 1879, William Fitzwilliam Elliot wrote
very many thanks for writing so often, it is a great event in this camp when the English Post arrives and a great disappointment to those who get no letters. Newspapers also are much wanted, if I stay here I shall ask you to send me the Pall Mall Gazette or Public Opinion.14
Lieutenant H. Pope-Hennessy, who served in the 1890 campaign in Somaliland, described the receipt of two copies of The Spectator magazine from his family as being âas refreshing as a cool spring in a desert!â15 Likewise, Lance-Corporal William Eaton, who served with the 14th Regiment in Afghanistan in 1880, wrote to his brother and sister to express his gratitude for their frequent letters.
I got your letter yesterday but I got the paper 4 days since and was thankful for it for I am very lonesome when I have nothing to read. I hope you will send me another and a song paper and when I come home I will not forget you.16
Private Miltonâs diary entry for 19 June 1900 suggests the importance of letters from home. It simp...