Cavalry life, or, Sketches and stories in barracks and out

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ROWLANDS' MACASSAR OIL,

Preface

1 iiavk received orders from my ]ml>lishers to write a Preface to the collection of sketches unw to be offered to the [nihlie.

A Preface ! Wliat an order ! 1 would as soon write another volume; it certainly would be the easier task of the twain. Lt has to be done, of course; but how, I don t know 1 never wrote a Preface in my life. I have not the least idea how to set about it; though I am in an utter agony of apprehension, lest defects in this absolute necessity should "mull" the effect of the whole.

I have consulted a friend on the subject, who says : " Pooh ! if you can write a book full of sketches, yon can write a Preface ; " and he says it as glibly as it it is nothing more difficult than an acceptance of a dinner invitation, and can be dashed off at a moment's notice.

1 explain to him that a book full of "sketches" is an easy matter. I simply take a real soldier out of a real regiment, and give him somebody else's real name; 1 put real jokes into his mouth, and relate real incidents which happened to him or to somebody else Uut 1 cannot do that with a Preface ; where shall I find a Preface in real life .'

My friend assumes a serious aspect ; and, leaving the <piestion of the Preface altogether, remarks that, in his opinion, I am playing a dangerous game.

" Supposing," says he, wisely, " supposing any fellow recognizes his own portrait."

vi PREFACE.

I know that "any follow" is much more likely to recognize some "other fellow's'' portrait than his own; though, goodness knows, they are nearly all unvarnished enough for the most obtuse self-blindness to see clearly through the thin disguise cast over them.

Mais rereiiuiis a )ios moutons — otherwise our Preface ! I fear all this is terribly out of order ; yet there are one or two things I should like to say, whether they are out of order or not.

I wish the sketches to be taken strictly for what they are — portraits from life of our British-born sons of Mars. I own frankly that characters and incidents are, for the most part, real characters and incidents, slightly shuffled and embroidered ; and that all have a foundation of truth.

The old letters introduced into " His Princess " (date 1759-17G1) are simply copies of the originals. I certainly did mend up the spelling and the punctuation a bit — both were vile: for, finding it such a nuisance to wade through them myself, I feared my readers would never trouble to look at them, unless I translated them into plainer English.

And thus I launch my military children (not quite of fancy) upon the world ; dedicating the portraits to the originals — to all the gentlemen who have been unconsciously my models, I make my bow, and sign myself the thereby greatly obliged

Author !

C O X T E X T S .

page

-liLGI.MKMAL LlFE .... ,

A Regimental Valentine 2')

A Regimental Poet a.

The Hero of the Regiment ..... c«

The Ordeal by Paint sy

A Cherub's Face uni>er a Forage-Cap igO

Calcraft — a Trooper . U;.

The Victoria Cross jo-

Tiie Captain of F-Troop j;;;j

The Sign of the "Golden Swan" ]4y

Humpty-Du.mpty ].-,^

A Regimental Autocrat ]$$

The Sad History of Bob Sarretasctie .... l'."i(;

A Satanic A.D.C ... 2'M)

Sergeant the Honourable Hugh Brabazon . . . l\sh

CAVALRY LIFIi,

REGIMENTAL LIFE.

Very few people have any conception of how severe a school the Army is. I speak more especially of the mounted branch of the service, because popular writers of fiction are more fond of " writing up " cavalry officers than any other.

One has grown intimately acquainted with life in the mesaroom, as so many authors depict it. One has learned all the names officers are popularly supposed to bestow upon one another. There is always a colonel, old, white-haired, and singularly amiable, who is a sort of protecting father to all his officers. He looks after their love-affairs, of which, by-the-bje, in real life, a chief is supposed to remain in blissful ignorance, lie sees they are not "put upon " by their seniors; is frequently spoken to as " old fellow," and very often falls in love with the young lady who has gained the affections of one of his " subs." of, say, six weeks' standing.

Then comes the major ; generally a woman-hater this. Why a major should invariably hold the fair sex in detestation is not < ften explained; but there the truth is, stern and unvarnished, and the reader has to make the best of it. Sometimes this woman-hater falls in love, and is transformed into a husband of the most exemplary description, but more often he remains in his unpleasant character to the end of the chapter.

1 wonder does it never occur to the writer that, in the natural cmirsc of events, a man fond of soldiering, who sticks to it. iui!>t get promotion ? In that case, does the major take up his

a predecessor's paternal line of action, and was the typical chief a woman-hater also, before he obtained his regiment ?

Amongst the captains there are various characters ; there is one who can do anything or everything. He can sing, hunt, fish, ride — he can win a steeple-chase on the veriest screw, by virtue of his brilliant riding ; he can shoot, draw, and paint, act, dance, and do everything under the sun with equal perfection. He is one of those whom the gods love, and he does not die young. He is like the princess in the fairy tale, who was fortunate enough to have three fairy godmothers, for every luxury and blessing seems to have been showered down upon him. He is singularly handsome, too — generally of the type which, but for the moustaches, might serve for the face of a young duchess ; he has more money than he can spend, which, as he is in a cavalry regiment, must be considerable. He has a wonderful constitution too, for he can drink all night — brandy-and-sodas, save the mark ! — and yet he is up with the lark in the morning, at some innocent and healthy pursuit, which, though you might find occupying a schoolboy, never, in this world, induced an officer, after a night of unlimited brandy-andsoda, to turn out of his comfortable bed until the very last moment. And the most wonderful of all is that, in spite of these excesses, our hero's eyes never lose their brightness or their clearness ; his hand and aim are invariably as steady as a rock.

To finish the list of this gentleman's charms, he is an accomplished flirt; his very name is a terror to mothers and husbands, and yet he usually ends by marrying some insipid unformed child just out of the schoolroom, and, like the married major, settles down into a steady-going country squire, without a wish or an idea beyond his childish wife, his hunting, and his short-horns ; in fact, he sinks into a state of bucolic stupidity, and altogether forgets the days when he was the boast — very frequently the toast — of " ours," and was known far and wide as " Beauty " so-and-so.

Then there is another captain who smokes. Of him we do •uot see very much ; his life, his thoughts, bis conversation, and

IUUHMEXrAL LIFE. 3

his character may be summed up in the single word smoke ; and so very properly his existence, for us, is but hazy.

The senior subaltern and his duties are utterly ignored ; and most prominent of all these military children of fancy is the young comet. He is very young, this wonderful boy, and he has a decided tendency to go wrong ; but every orro pets him and makes much of him, and he is popularly known as " Baby " or " Trettyface," sometimes as " the Cherub " or " the Seraph." For this youth the protecting friendliness of the fatherly colonel comes into play, and it is wonderful how many duties and infringements he is excused. He, like our friend the popular captain, is fair to look upon, being of the duchess type, graceful in bearing, and dainty in coloring.

Lastly, we have the regimental surgeon, whom we must one and all own a perfect monstrosity. He is lanky, ugly, illdressed, speaks with a strong brogue, or maybe a Tyne-side twang or Northumbrian burr, and altogether excites the curiosity of the reader as to how such a man attained his position.

.Sometimes we are admitted into the troop-rooms, and the chief feature we find there is the blind devotion of the men to the officers, or one officer in particular ; not only blind devotion, but passionate admiration and keen interest in all their proceedings.

How very, very different is real life in a barrack ! How respectful the " sir " with which the colonel and the major are addressed ! How very different is the behaviour of the junior officers, and how mercilessly severe are the manner and judgments of " the senior sub." !

The very slightest infringement of regimental rules is visited with an ante-room court-martial ; and the punishments awarded are no mere child's play ; they are often corporal, and in all ( ases severe.

In one regiment, which for convenience' sake we will call the Cuirassiers, two subs., lately joined, omitted to rise for early stables, when it was their turn for duty as orderly-officer. The result was, not that these two only were reprimanded, but that the whole of the subalterns were called into the orderly room,

B L> and, to use their own language, were "jolly well slated." Tht two delinquents were not especially mentioned, and thought to hear no more of the matter. Not so. The others simply bided their time until midnight, when, the senior officer having retired, an ante-room court-martial was called, and the defaulters were brought up for trial, and, being convicted, sentenced to punishment. And in what did that punishment consist ? Not in a " slating," but each was sentenced to receive three strokes of a birch rod from every member of the court-martial ; that is, about thirty strokes each, and well laid on !

As soon as a subaltern joins his regiment, he is submitted to a course of practical jokes, ill-treatment, and bullying all round, to which he must offer no resistance, or his career will be a short one. For instance, a few years ago a man named Royd joined this same regiment, and on his first evening amongst his new comrades was " drawn." That is to say, he was visited in his room during the small hours of the morning and ordered to go down into the ante-room for court-martial, the charge against him being that he had risen from the dinner-table whilst an officer senior to him remained sitting. Eoyd, being of huge stature and gigantic strength, stoutly resisted, and eventually picked up the largest man in the room, carried him out on to the landing, and dropped him over the baluster on to the flagged passage below. The effect was magical ; in an instant all the hubbub was hushed, and the injured man was raised. Fortunately the result was nothing worse than a sprained ankle and a severely-bruised hip. He took it very quietly, and merely looked up at Royd, who was standing near, and said coolly, " I'll have you out for this."

Very possibly the new-comer did not think much of the threat, but his career was virtually over ; at every hour of the day and night did he have cause to repent that hasty action, and during the autumn manoeuvres of that year the climax came. It was in this wise ; on a pouring wet day, or rather night, ho had to visit the pickets, and as, for some reason, he had no horse, was compelled to do the rounds on foot. On «w>uiint; in after a tramp of some miles thoroughly soaked and

UlUSIMKS IAL LIFE. '■>

tired out, he was ordered to visit yet another outlying picket six or seven miles away. Then was his tormentor's opportunity ; lie would not permit him to take a troop horse, though he himself was riding. Tired, cold, and wet, this young subaltern reached the picket ; something went wrong, as did his temper, and he swore at one of the men. His fate was sealed. His senior immediately put him under arrest, and lie was told by the colonel that he must send in his papers or undergo trial by court-martial. Of course he left the regiment.

A young officer is not even permittted to dress himself as he pleases. It was reported in the ante-room of the Cuirassiers that one of the junior officers had been seen in Piccadilly wearing an inverncss cloak. On his return from town he was ordered by the senior captain to produce the article in question, and it was burnt before his eyes.

" Whilst you are an officer of the Cuirassiers, sir," said the senior captain, " you will dress like a gentleman, and not as if you had bought your clothes out of a slop-shop in Bloomsbury."

Sometimes a newly-joined officer attempts the hail-fellowwell-met style of intercourse with his seniors, but his intentions are nipped in the bud with marvellous celerity. Such an one joined the Cuirassiers during the leave season, and tried his system upon the major.

" Ah, Houghton," said he, one day after lunch, while several officers, including the major, were standing about the ante-room fire, " will you go down to the rink with me this afternoon ?"

The cool audacity of this proposal stopped every tongue in the room, and all listened breathlessly for the major's reply.

" I don't mind," he said quietly, much more quietly than they had expected, but probably he wished to see how far this young gentleman's assurance would take him.

" Ah, very well. I'll be ready about four o'clock, so come round to my rooms and look me up."

This was a matter for the senior eub.'s notice, and although he was not in the room at the time, the conversation was quickly reported to him, and he as quickly sent for tlie delinquent.

" Now look here, young chap," he began, " this sort of thing won't do at all. If the major asks you to go anywhere with him, you will tell him whether you'll go or you won't, but you'll not propose going to the rink or anywhere else with him. And another thing, when you address him you will say 'major' or ' sir.' I am very much astonished that the major did not speak to you himself about it."

Then life in a barrack is by no means such an existence of ease, luxury, and time-killing as novelists would fain make us believe. Take, for example, the duties of the orderly officer for the day. He must rise at six o'clock for early stables, or the whole of the subalterns suffer in consequence ; then he has to go round the breakfasts, see that they are all right, and hear any complaints ; then if it is not a field day he must ride with the troops to watering order ; he must visit the hospital ; then come morning stables, and as likely as not, if he be stationed at Aldershot or Colchester, he will be on court-martial, for which he has all the nuisance of getting into full dress, and may think himself very lucky if he miss the orderly-room business and the round of the dinners. In the afternoon he must again visit the hospital, and probably there will be a parade ; certainly he will have the picket to mount, and as likely as not he will have to walk a mile or so to do it. Then he has the first hour's rust of the day, and at half-past five he must turn out again for afternoon stables and "teas;" then hospital once more. He does eat his dinner in peace, but he must receive the watch-setting reports and mount the guard ere bedtime. Nor should mention be omitted of the number of times the orderly officer has to sign his name and to change his uniform. If his turn fall upon Sunday, he must accompany the commanding officer round the married quarters, but as some compensation for that be escapes church parade, and so is spared the trouble of getting into full dress — no light matter, more especially in the item of the boots.

The imposition of fines is another method of punishing in-

UFA! 1 M i:\T.\L LIFE. 1

fringcnients of regimental rales. If an officer is not properly thaven, if lie puts on any part of his uniform wrongly, he must pay for the champagne drunk at dinner that evening. This line is also enforced for swearing or using bad language in the presence of the chaplain or any senior officer, and also for dropping the sword. On certain occasions an officer must pay when it is not a case of fining. If he gets promotion, if he brings home the regiment from the drill field for the first time as commanding officer, if he wins a race, or is going to be married, at all such times he has to " stand " champagne.

Our novelists do well to give their military heroes an inexhaustible rent-roll. There are very few such out of the Guards, and soldier servants have to be very well up in methods of getting rid of duns and such other unwelcome visitors as their masters do not care to be at home to.

Another terrible mistake made by novelists is the magnificence with which they surround their heroes in quarters. If such could but once peep into the room (for an officer has seldom bul one room, even if he is no longer a subaltern, excepting at Colchester, where each cavalry officer lias a room about 12 feet by 14 and a tiny dressing-room, just half that size) of any ordinary hussar, dragoon, or lancer, he or she — I suspect it is most often the women who are so fond of soldier heroes — would never again depict him in rooms resembling a very fine lady's boudoir. Oh, the patched walls, the bare paint, the marks on the door where the lock gave way the last time the owner was " drawn " by his comrades, the blackened ceiling, the almost invariable absence of window-blinds, the miserable regulation fender fastened to the floor, the more miserable regulation coal-scuttle, and, most miserable of all, the regulation barrack chairs 1 It is all so wonderfully unlike the barrack-room of fiction. There is the very rickety crib of a bed, made to take in pieces upon occasion, and which by daytime the servant, with the aid of cretonne covers for the pillows and a fur carriage rug, converts into a sofa; and there is the dressing-table, likewise hung all round with cretonne, and which strikes one as being remarkably high for its purpose. Just pull the cretonne curtain a little, and half the front will open, showing yon that it is hnt a make-believe table after all, and, stripped of its hangings, would stand forth a packing-case ! Well, it is both a toilette-table and a wardrobe now, for piled upon the shelves, which have been put in temporarily, are the various suits of clothes belonging to the owner of the room.

Then over there, on the other side of the room, is the inevitable chest of drawers, which, when travelling, just fit nicely inside the dressing-table. They are exactly like the drawers in every room in the barracks ; are of mahogany, have brass handles, and a despatch box and writing desk combined in the middle drawer at the top. Then the lid of our friend's bath, being fitted with three legs which screw in and out at pleasure, makes a very convenient writing table if covered with a cloth, and into the bath itself, for travelling, the legs go, together with the tripod, washing-stand, and the tin basin and ewer. Some officers have pianos, but they are always hired ; and most officers have a few pictures and little trifles to scatter about their room. For instance, a couple of fur rugs thrown across the huge barrack armchairs take off from their ugliness much ; and if a soldier is fortunate enough to know a lady who will work him a cover for his cot, his room will look much more presentable. And yet at best a soldier's room is but a " shake-down ;" and if he be rich or poor, he seldom attempts to make it otherwise. The handsomest room I ever saw in barracks was that of a captain of dragoons ; in fact, he had been fortunate enough to secure two large rooms, those which, if he had required them, would have been allotted to the major. This man was very rich, and had certainly taken a good deal of trouble to make his rooms habitable, and yet — well, they were only barrack-rooms. There were the usual make-shifts ; and when the fur rug slipped off the great easy chair in which I sat, I saw the broad straps which served for arms, and which told me it was just the same as I had seen in barrack-rooms so many times before.

The rooms of a well-known colonel of cavalry, a man who now possesses a title and thirty thousand a year, were simply

JIKC1M EXTAL LIFE. 9

beggarly, not, nearly so handsome as was the one little room of his Vet., of which I had just a glimpse. And why ? Because one room was the man's hobby; the other was not.

One more word and I have done ; it concerns the fancy names hestowed upon soldiers in novels. They are all fancy names, and in real life do not exist. In no case have I ever known a name given in recognition of a man's personal comeliness, such as Cherub, Beauty, Adonis, Apollo, Prettyface, and the like. One of the handsomest men I ever knew was commonly known as The Spider. Why, I cannot tell — not because he was like one. In closing, I will give a few names I have actually known : The Infant (weighing twenty-one stone), The Cob, David, The Winter Apple, King Kobo, Old Muzzie, The Spider, Landy-

Tin Whistle, Illigant John of Bath, The Lady-Killer, Mother Hubbard, Billy Buttons, Piggie, Alphabet. Most frequently men's own names are abbreviated ; thus at one time in a distinguished lancer regiment there were any amount of Bills and Billys. In another of hussars, the name of David prevailed ; nearly all were Davids, even a racehorse belonging to one of the officers.

When the personal appearance of an officer is not prepossessing, a name is quickly found for him. Any remark on the subject of " looks " meets with a rejoinder sharp and to the point. Said oneCnirassier to another,

" Why, your nose is so stuck up, one might hang one's hat on it."

" Well, my dear chap," was the ready reply, "one certainly couldn't on yours."

And it was true enough.

IO

OR, HOW GERARD ST. HILARY WAS DRIVEN INTO MATRIMONY.