A Soldier's Experience; or, A Voice from the Ranks: Showing the Cost of War in Blood and Treasure. A Personal Narrative of the Crimean Campaign, from the Standpoint of the Ranks; the Indian Mutiny, and Some of its Atrocities; the Afghan Campaigns of 1863Gowing, T. (Timothy)
History
A Soldier's Experience; or, A Voice from the Ranks: Showing the Cost of War in Blood and Treasure. A Personal Narrative of the Crimean Campaign, from the Standpoint of the Ranks; the Indian Mutiny, and Some of its Atrocities; the Afghan Campaigns of 1863
Gowing, T. (Timothy)
Crimean War, 1853-1856 -- Personal narratives
numbers of the foe, His Royal Highness the Duke of Cambridge and a few
other officers again rallied the men, and on they went with a desperate
headlong charge. The bayonet was then used with effect; the vast columns
of the enemy came on and on again, to be repeatedly hurled back by those
who would die rather than yield an inch. Such was Inkermann, with the
soldier's friend in the thick of it. The Guards had a warm corner of it:
if there was one place hotter than another on that field they got into
it.
* * * * *
A slight digression may here he pardoned. The reader may not be aware of
it, but, strange to say, the most desperate battles that have ever been
fought have been fought on Sundays, particularly Palm, Easter, and Whit
Sundays. The following are a few of them, showing day and date:--The
battle of Ravenna was fought on Easter Sunday, 1512. There are two
instances of battles between the Houses of York and Lancaster. The
battle of Towton was fought on Palm Sunday. It was there that Warwick
slew his horse, and swore to stand by Edward to his last gasp. The
victory was gained by Edward, March 29th, 1461. Ten years after, the two
parties met again, at Barnet, on Easter Sunday, April 14th, 1471.
Warwick here fought his last fight, and was mortally wounded,
exclaiming--
Lo now my glory is smear'd with dust and blood,--
Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but dust and blood?
And live we how we can, yet die we must:
Kings and dragoons, when call'd, must come to dust.
One of the battles between Charles I. and his Parliament was fought on
Sunday, October 23rd, 1642. I cannot pass this over without noticing a
noble act of a loving son. Sir G. Scroope fell fighting for his king,
with twenty-six wounds. Next day his son obtained leave from the king to
find and fetch his poor father's remains. After a long search, the boy
found his father's body in a state of nudity, in the midst of a heap of
others; there was some warmth in it, and, after rubbing it for some
time, he improved it to motion; from motion to sense, and from sense to
speech. He lived for ten years afterwards, a monument to his son's
filial affection, care, and perseverance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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