_1868-1870. PORTSMOUTH_
Duties--Geology--Societies formed--Portland prison--Parkhurst--
Garrison prisons--Gymnastics--Arrival of 33rd and 101st Regiments--
Man of 3rd Light Dragoons--Sale of decorations--Illness--Discharging
soldiers--Comments.
Appointed to the Southern District,[269] the duties connected with
departmental administration were entered upon without delay. Within the
garrison of Portsmouth, headquarters of the district, they included
work relating to embarking and disembarking troops, in addition to
ordinary routine; through the district, inspections of military
establishments and places with which I was already familiar.
In visiting establishments on the Isle of Wight some pleasant
excursions were taken in company with a kindred spirit[270] in regard
to natural things. With geological map in hand,[271] we walked from
point to point comparing the strata as we proceeded with the several
illustrative sketches there presented. So also official visits to the
Isle of Portland gave opportunity of studying the history presented
by its rocks and strata, with regard to its alternating elevations
and submergences in geological periods. The operations in progress at
Spithead in connection with forts intended to be built there supplied
with ample material in different shapes those among us whose tastes led
us to take interest in them.
Among our numbers were several men devoted to different branches of
natural history; others whose tastes and pursuits were in more purely
professional subjects. By means of a happy combination between the two
a society[272] was set on foot, a room with fuel and light assigned to
its use by the War Office, and an excellent library collected. Papers
were read at its meetings, abstracts being published in the London
professional journals. So great was the success which attended our
efforts that a society of allied kind was established by scientific and
professional residents of Portsmouth and its vicinity.
The then governor of Portland convict prison had previously held a
similar position at Norfolk Island, to which at that time the worst and
most desperate criminals were sent from New South Wales. The men he
had there to deal with were the most desperate and reckless of their
class; but some of the accounts Mr. Clifton gave regarding his method
towards them were most interesting, some even pathetic, the keynote of
his system having been, on suitable occasions, to appeal to their human
nature. With evident gusto we were invited to enter what he called his
museum of implements with which from time to time attempts on his life
had been made by convicts under his charge; and very miscellaneous
were they as they lay upon their shelves, duly labelled and arranged.
Among the convicts were some who had in their day occupied high social
position, one of them in particular. Passing them as we did, our gaze
was averted as we did so, but it was not in us to withhold from them a
thought of pity.
At Parkhurst the “governor” of the convict prison was a lady, the
convicts being women. It was the boast of Mrs. Gibson that, in
maintaining discipline and administering justice for offences, no
barrier of any kind separated her from the offender brought before her,
and yet, unlike the experience already mentioned, with the exception of
one occasion, violence had never been offered her. “Unless,” said she,
“I have sufficient moral power to maintain order, my influence would be
gone.” Her daughter had been carefully tended from infancy to womanhood
by a life convict. But among her prisoners were some whose disposition
was most desperate; there were others who, when they “felt a fit of
passion coming on,” made request to their “governor” that, as a favour,
she would allow them to “go to the pump,” so that by the violent
exertion there required of them they might “work it off.” A short time
previous there had been under her charge as life convict a young lady,
the story of whose “crime” and conviction occupied public attention
to a more than usual degree, the question of her guilt being no less
discussed than were the circumstances under which her confession had
been obtained, the reality of that confession, and the relation of
“confessors” to the individual on the one hand, and to law on the other.
The periodical inspection of Garrison prisoners came within the
ordinary routine of duty. As a matter of information, inquiries on such
occasions were directed to the effect, if any, of punishments undergone
by soldiers in deterring them from subsequent crime, the usual reply
received being that “the same men come here over and over again.”
Past experience in regiments had been to the same effect in regard to
offences, and to a considerable extent also to men coming “on the sick
report” to hospital, the numbers of the latter depending greatly upon
the kind of duty, parades, drills, and so on, that was about to take
place. Regimental surgeons understood all such moves on the part of the
men, and for the most part were able to estimate at its approximate
value the statements made by individuals.
While visiting a military gymnasium, attention was drawn to
performances by the non-commissioned officer in charge, a noted
gymnast, some of whose feats on the trapeze and otherwise were
remarkable as showing high proficiency in his art. At the time of their
performance his appearance indicated advanced phthisis, and within a
month thereafter he succumbed to that condition. Other instances more
or less similar to his have come under notice, indicating that the
ability to perform feats of “strength” and agility is not a constant
indication of robust health, although it may be of “knack” acquired by
practice.
Duty brought me in contact from time to time with regiments with which
on previous occasions I had been associated; for example, the 34th at
Azimghur, 35th at Dinapore, 97th at Sooltanpore, and 67th at Tientsin.
The arrival of the 33rd from Abyssinia was made an occasion to do
honour to the gallant “West Ridings” for its services in that campaign.
That of the 101st on its first tour of home service was attended by
various incidents, some amusing in their way, showing how new to the
men were the conditions in which they found themselves. Fortunately for
them “comrades” in garrison gave them willing help in landing baggage,
carrying coals, filling straw beds, and so on.
Visiting the barracks at Chichester, I learned some particulars with
reference to the sequel of the incident connected with a soldier of the
3rd Light Dragoons at Wuzzeerabad in 1853. That regiment now occupied
those barracks preparatory to going on foreign service, but so numerous
had been the changes during the interval that with difficulty was one
man found who remembered it. According to his account the particulars
given by the man then alluded to, in regard to his part in the murder
on Wandsworth Common, the disposal of watch and chain of his victim,
were confirmed by subsequent inquiries. The man himself was condemned
to a lunatic asylum, and there he died.
While walking along High Street on one occasion, attention was
attracted to two medals exposed for sale in the window of a well-known
silversmith of that day. To them was attached a short printed notice
relating that they were the identical decorations presented to the
two men most distinguished for gallantry in the battle of Waterloo.
In default of heirs they had come to be among the contents of an old
curiosity shop. They had respectively been bestowed upon Colonel
Macdonell and Sergeant Graham, both of the Coldstream Guards, for
their defence of Hougomont against the combined forces under Jerome
Bonaparte, Foy, and Bachelu. On subsequent occasions, orders and
decorations for the Mutiny campaign were, for lack of heirs, sold by
public auction; a commentary on the passing value of such things,
highly prized though they are by those on whom, for services rendered,
they were conferred in the first instance.
In the spring of 1870 I experienced in person what in many other
instances is a sequence of continued attacks of malarious illness, in
that they seemed to culminate in one of great severity, even after
nearly a year and a half of English climate. To the great care and
skill of two army surgeons[273] I owe my recovery--indeed, my life.
Restoration to full activity was slow. Meantime, a duty devolved upon
me the nature of which was unpleasant, as it seemed to me invidious. A
scheme of Army retrenchment was to be enforced. In accordance therewith
reductions in the numbers of men borne on their rolls were ordered to
be carried out in regiments in our particular district as in others;
the instructions under which officers concerned were obliged to act
leaving to them little, if any, discretionary power.
The classes of men to be selected for discharge, and so make room for
recruits to be enlisted under the short service system, comprised--(1)
the sickly and weak; (2) those of bad character; (3) those who for
reasons of their own were desirous of obtaining discharge. It was
felt that, of the first, the greater number would be cast adrift,
incapable of earning a livelihood, and so be thrown upon parish relief;
that by the second, a number of incorrigible characters would be let
loose on the public, to prey upon it either by begging or by crime,
to be further a burthen to the taxpayer in respect to expenses of
prosecution, and of maintenance in prison while undergoing punishment
for crimes committed. The third class was composed of those who, having
become trained soldiers, inured to discipline, were lost to the service
when their individual value was at its greatest. Some of us felt
strongly then that such numerical reductions as were deemed necessary,
on account of public reasons, might have been carried out by the more
gradual and less objectionable method of ceasing to recruit for a few
weeks or months.