CHAPTER XVI

An N.C.O. of the Old School—Major Blewett—Captain Byron—Sandhurst

On our arrival at Chatham Barracks, I was allotted a single room in the officers’ quarters, which was much smaller and less comfortable than either of the two rooms which I had occupied at Shorncliffe. Dillon was given a similar one, but Byron, being a captain, had better accommodation.

Dillon and I found our life at Chatham very different from that at Shorncliffe, and not nearly so pleasant. We had to attend early drill with the recruits under a sergeant, who was very severe, and made us drill exactly the same as the men. Some mornings it was so cold that our hands became quite numbed, and we could scarcely hold our rifles. But this martinet of a sergeant had no pity, and made us “carry on” until we were ready to drop with fatigue and cold. The recruits he bullied most unmercifully. One morning, a recruit arrived late for parade, whereupon the sergeant gave him several kicks on his shins, and pulled him by the ears, until the poor fellow almost yelled with the pain. His tormentor, however, soon silenced him.

“I won’t have any of your blubbering,” cried he. “If you don’t stop at once, I’ll give you three days’ extra drill.” This sort of thing he could do with impunity, as the adjutant was rarely on the parade-ground during early morning drill. He appeared at afternoon parade, but paid very little attention to the recruits, occupying himself mainly with company drill. So matters continued until our regiment arrived, and even then there was not much improvement, for, so long as we remained in Chatham Barracks, the luckless recruits were always drilled by the same sergeant, none of them daring to complain, from fear lest worse things should befall them.

The 2nd Battalion of the 10th Regiment was at that time commanded by Lieut.-Colonel Annesley, an amiable old gentleman, with a wife and family, who appeared to engross a good deal more of his attention than did his regiment. For of much that was going on he seemed quite ignorant, and it was purposely kept from him. In fact, the battalion was really commanded by the senior major, Major Blewitt, the colonel seldom putting in an appearance except on field days. Major Blewitt was a very smart officer, and though at times inclined to severity, exceedingly just. He was very particular about etiquette, and scarcely ever spoke to a subaltern, except to give him advice or to reprimand him, even in the ante-room. I recollect about the only occasion on which he condescended to address me.

There was a sub-lieutenant of a West India Regiment, whom I will call H——, attached at that time to the 10th. This young gentleman was very fond of écarté, and often induced me to play with him after mess. We played for half-a-crown a game, and I found that I generally lost, as H—— had a perfectly wonderful way of turning up the king almost every time he dealt. One evening, we were playing in the ante-room, where Major Blewitt was sitting, reading a newspaper. Presently, the major looked over the top of his paper, and observed that it was a pity that we could not find some better way of passing the time than playing cards; adding that, if he thought we were playing for money, he would stop us at once. Soon afterwards, we finished our rubber, and H—— left the room, upon which Major Blewitt called me to him and told me that he did not like to see me playing cards. On one occasion, he said, he was present when two young officers were playing écarté. One of them lost persistently the whole evening, but since they both assured him that they were playing for love, he did not interfere, though the way the luck continued to run in one direction was extremely suspicious. Subsequently, he discovered that they had actually been playing for five hundred pounds a game, and that the loser had been completely ruined. The major added that, from what he had seen of H——’s play, he should be very sorry to sit down to cards with him, and to play with him for anything like high stakes would be simply madness. The warning he gave me on this occasion was certainly well justified, for a lieutenant of the Lincoln’s, named Glass, afterwards lost considerable sums to H—— at écarté.

The captains of the regiment did not like Major Blewitt, who treated them off parade with a certain haughtiness, as though he were showing them condescension in speaking to them at all; while the N.C.O.’s, and particularly the sergeants, were all afraid of him, as he seemed to be aware of everything that was going on, and was very severe upon them if they did not treat the men properly.

One day on parade, when Major Blewitt was in command, he gave some extraordinary orders, which it was quite impossible for the regiment to carry out, and later, in the ante-room, he behaved in a very strange manner. It was then ascertained that his mind was affected, the result of a sunstroke which he had had in India. He went away on sick leave, but six months later had to retire from the Service, as it was found that he was never likely to recover.

The next officer in seniority was Major Hudson, who told me that he had served under my uncle and godfather, General the Hon. Sir George Cathcart, when the latter was Governor of the Cape. The major was a very pleasant man, but he had certain eccentricities, one of which was a partiality for white kid gloves and patent-leather boots, which he wore on parade, even in winter. He had little control over the captains, who did very much as they liked. One of them was almost perpetually drunk, and led his wife, a rather pretty woman and very well off, a miserable life, even going so far as to beat her, it was said. Some of the subalterns also drank a great deal more than was good for them, and there was one who was drunk on parade on at least one occasion.

Little, the senior lieutenant and adjutant, was, however, a very nice fellow, as well as a good soldier, and the same could be said for two other subalterns, Archibald Glen and De Houghton. The former was six feet seven in height, and reputed to be the tallest man in the Army. I liked him exceedingly, but, unfortunately, he soon left the regiment for the Staff College. De Houghton, who afterwards became a baronet, had received the Gold Medal of the Royal Humane Society for saving life at sea.

There was a subaltern in the 10th who prided himself on his knowledge of French. Once, when the regiment was stationed at Malta, a French warship happened to call there, and the officers were invited by the 10th to dinner. This lieutenant, being the best French scholar, was placed between the captain of the warship and another French officer. Presently, the captain asked him in French how long he had been at Malta, to which he replied, without hesitation, while everybody pricked up their ears to listen:—

“_Je suis un âne ici._” (“I am an ass here.”)

The French captain tried to look serious, but the other French officers burst into fits of laughter. One of them spoke a little English and explained to the company what the joke was, when they all joined in the merriment. Needless to say, this misadventure remained ever afterwards a standing joke against the unfortunate lieutenant.

Life at Chatham was very monotonous. Of society there was practically none, and, as the married ladies of the regiment were not on good terms with one another, there was little or no entertaining among the 10th. There was no theatre and only a couple of low-class music-halls. I went once to one of them, where there was a box reserved for the officers of the garrison, but did not feel inclined to repeat the visit.

While I was at Chatham, a big ball was given in the officers’ mess-room at the barracks by the regiments forming the garrison. A good many people came down from London, and were conveyed back by a special train after the ball was over. I invited my friends from Dover, and the two elder girls, Augusta and Ida, were, as usual, much admired. The affair was a great success, and the supper was on the most lavish scale, with plovers’ eggs and every imaginable delicacy and champagne flowing like water.

In due course, Dillon and I were put to company drill. On one occasion I got my company into a hopeless position, up against a wall, and not knowing what to do, told them calmly “to stand at ease,” to the great amusement of everyone, including the adjutant, who told the story against me at mess that night, observing that I must evidently be a person of resource, as anyone else would have been at a loss how to act.

A good many field-days took place at Chatham, of which the escalading of some high walls was a feature. I had sometimes to carry the colours in escalading these walls, a task which I did not much relish, as it was by no means an easy one.

I was growing so tired of Chatham that I was quite glad when I was sent with the rest of my company to Gravesend, to go through a six weeks’ musketry course. I was constantly with Captain Byron, whom I very much liked, indeed, I preferred him to anyone else in the regiment, even to Dillon. Byron used to tell me that I was very foolish to leave the regiment, for one day he would, he thought, be in command, and then I should have a very good time of it. But my relatives were anxious for me to serve in one of the regiments for which my name had been put down on the Prince of Wales’s private list, so I thought I was bound to accept the transfer when the offer came, which I was sure would be very soon.

While at Gravesend, I went up to town to see Aimée Desclée act in _Diane de Lys_, by Alexandre Dumas _fils_. I thought her the finest actress I had ever seen, with the exception, perhaps, of Sarah Bernhardt. She played the part with so much delicacy and refinement, her voice was so pleasing and her attitudes so graceful, that I was altogether charmed with her. Poor woman! She died very soon afterwards from a chest complaint, while quite young. I was much pleased with an American actor, J. K. Emmett, at the St. James’s Theatre, who played with a little child, singing a song in which the refrain was: “Schneider, how you vas.” I also paid more than one visit to the Opera at Covent Garden, where Adelina Patti and Scalchi and the tenor Gayarré were delighting the audience.

On my return to Chatham I found the work very hard. The most trying part of it was being on guard at the barracks, where I was obliged to be on duty once a week for the whole twenty-four hours. The guard used to be turned out two or three times during the day, and also in the middle of the night, by the field-officer of the week, who sometimes made his round at one or two o’clock in the morning, when the subaltern on duty had to turn out the guard, besides having to go his round of the sentries. The officer on guard was not allowed to go to bed or take his clothes off, even after the field-officer had made his round of inspection, or he might get into the most serious trouble. There were other guards at some distance from Chatham, to look after the convicts, but this was during the day, and not nearly so trying as to be on guard at the barracks.

Not long after my return to Chatham, Dillon and I were sent to Sandhurst, for a six months’ course of instruction. But before going, at my relatives’ suggestion, I went up to town to see the Military Secretary of the War Office, who was then General Cartwright, to inquire what chance I had of being transferred to the Rifle Brigade. He asked me what influence I had, when I mentioned the Adjutant-General, Lord Airey, who had already presented me at a levée to the Prince of Wales, while I was stationed at Shorncliffe. General Cartwright then inquired if I had not any other interest, remarking that the Scots Guards were more easy to enter than either the Rifle Brigade or the 60th Rifles, and that, unless I had someone else behind me, he feared my chance would be but a poor one. I then told him that my cousin, the Hon. Emily Cathcart, maid of honour to Queen Victoria, had had my name put down for both the Rifle regiments, by General Ponsonby, on the Prince of Wales’s private list, upon which he smiled and said:—

“She could get you into either of these; in fact, she could get you into anything she pleased. If you had mentioned her name before, I could have told you so at once.”

I found life at Sandhurst very much like being at school again, with more restrictions than there were at Eton. There was a great deal of “ragging” going on, and some fellows had their furniture and everything in their rooms broken. I was fortunate in being, for some unaccountable reason, rather popular with the ringleaders—not that I assisted them in any way, for this sort of horse-play did not appeal to me—and so escaped being one of their victims. Dillon was not so lucky, as at first he showed fight, but he soon recognized that the wisest course was to assume indifference. There were several sub-lieutenants of the Guards and cavalry regiments at Sandhurst, one or two of whom had been at Eton with me, and I made many friendships, one with a young fellow in the 78th Highlanders, with whom I often took long walks into the pretty country around Sandhurst. Apart from the instruction, I rather enjoyed my time at the college, as I got on well with nearly everyone. I had to go through the riding-school and ride horses over jumps without stirrups, which rather amused me, although there were some officers who disliked this part of the curriculum very much.

After I had been about a month at Sandhurst, the Military Governor of the College, General Sir A. Alison, sent for me and told me that I had been transferred to the 2nd Battalion of the 60th Rifles, stationed in India. I must confess that I was at first rather disappointed, as it was not the regiment I had asked for, and I did not much like the idea of going to India. I asked General Alison what I had better do, when he said that he would telegraph to the War Office, and that I ought to finish my course of instruction at Sandhurst. I anxiously awaited the reply; and the following day he sent for me again, and told me that I must leave at once and get ready to sail for India, but that he thought the War Office would allow me a month to procure my outfit.

Next day I left Sandhurst for London, and, having obtained a month’s leave, proceeded to Paris to visit my parents in the Rue d’Albe, Champs-Elysées. They, and my father in particular, told me that I had better accept the transfer, as I might have to wait a long time for the Rifle Brigade, and the Military Secretary had told me that I was appointed to the first vacancy that had occurred, as there was no vacancy in the Rifle Brigade then.

During my stay in Paris, I often rode in the Bois with my father on a fiery thoroughbred chestnut, whom I found a very different kind of mount from the horses at Sandhurst, as he started at the least touch of my heel, whereas the others had required both whip and spur. I made the most of my time, going often to the Théâtre-Français, where I saw Delaunay in plays by Alfred de Musset and Alexandre Dumas _fils_, and was delighted with his acting. He was the best _jeune premier_ whom I ever saw, and always excellent in the art of stage love-making. I went to several balls and indulged in some flirtations with both French and American damsels, and was sorry when the day arrived that I had to take my departure for London to purchase my outfit for India. My mother was distressed at my having to go to India, particularly as the battalion had to stay out there for some years, and she was in very delicate health at that time.