THIS SILVER SHILLING, minted in 1787, would have been current at the time of Waterloo. A coin such as this might have been used as an incentive for new recruits to the armed services. To take the king’s shilling was to accept service in the navy or army and was a practice that dated back to the Civil War, with the shilling – a not inconsiderable sum for low-paid labourers – being offered as a payment for signing up. Whether you were a volunteer or pressed – coerced – the taking of the king’s (or queen’s) shilling denoted that you were in the forces.
The term is mentioned in a verse from a song of the time, ‘Who’ll be a Soldier?’, which was sung to the tune we now know as ‘Waltzing Matilda’:
The King he has ordered new troops onto
the continent,
To strike a last blow at the enemy.
And if you would be a soldier,
All in a scarlet uniform,
Take the King’s shilling for Wellington and me.
A recruit theoretically was entitled to return the shilling at any point until he was made subject to martial law after being attested by a justice of the peace. Soon after that, a bounty was paid to the new recruit, which varied considerably, but could be up to £23 17s 6d in 1812. At its highest the bounty was equivalent to over half a year’s wages for the average unskilled worker.
Date of production: 1787
Location: Private collection
The British army had reduced its numbers significantly with the ending of the wars in 1814 as British politicians sought to take the peace dividend and drastically reduce expenditure on the army and the navy. Many of the seasoned troops returned from southern Europe thoroughly tired of war, having fought in the harsh terrain of Portugal and Spain, for most of the previous six years. Their time served, many saw few prospects in remaining in the army, where promotion would now stagnate, and the idea of dying whilst garrisoning some godforsaken mosquito-infected island in the West or East Indies was not an attractive option. Many veterans therefore sought to leave the army on a pension of up to a shilling a day, a pittance which would need to be supplemented by paid work.
Napoleon’s return to the French throne meant that the British government faced huge problems in supplying enough soldiers for the new war. Their embarrassment was saved to some extent by the very timely return of a large number of regiments which had been fighting the Americans in a conflict that was, in reality, a war over the sovereignty of Canada. Peace had been signed in January 1815 and the regiments arriving in English and Irish ports in April and May found themselves ordered directly on to Belgium.
But recruiting had to be ramped up again rapidly: regimental recruiting parties were sent out to ply young able-bodied men with beer and regale them with tales of daring exploits and the riches they could earn in prize money, to entice them to accept the king’s shilling. Many who accepted the offer were rushed through basic training and stood and died or were horribly mutilated at Waterloo only a month or two after they had joined.
A number of regiments had very few experienced men when they arrived in Belgium, indeed the 14th Foot was described as being formed of ‘mere boys’. But these boys stood and died at Waterloo just as bravely as any veteran.
