For once, upon a raw and gusty day,
The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores,
Caesar said to me--"Darest thou, Cassius, now
Leap in with me into this angry flood,
And swim to yonder point?"
------------------------------------------------------------------------
While the head-quarters of our regiment lay in Hounslow, and the
out-quarters in Hampton Court, Blackwater, and Kensington, myself and a
number of my comrades went to bathe in a stream not far from Hounslow
Heath, as had been our custom while stationed at Hampton Court. Whether
this water was public or private property, I know not: it was a kind of
half river, half brook; probably, however, we were trespassers, as I
remember we had to pass over some fields through which there was no
public road before we reached it. There were seven of us, and we had no
sooner stripped and piled our clothing on the water's edge than four
policemen appeared on the scene. Suspecting our intentions, they had
followed us from the outskirts of the town, and concealing themselves
behind a hedge, like good generals, they waited until we were undressed
and had entered the water, before warning us that we were doing anything
contrary to the law. Now, if there is one thing that a soldier detests
more than another, it is to be interfered with in any way or shape by a
policeman. In this instance the police were striving to take a mean
advantage over us, and as they seated themselves quietly on the brink of
the stream, and collected every vestige of our clothing in a heap beside
them, it appeared very probable that they would remain masters of the
field, and that--as my own comrades remarked--we should be taken to "a
piece of ground with a station-house over it."
The water was no higher than our middles, and we moved down some
distance to hold a parley as to the best means of getting out of the
dilemma: some were for quietly surrendering to the enemy and trusting to
our ignorance of the law to escape punishment. There were no
notice-boards or anything to warn us that it was illegal, and what was
more natural than that a pure stream of water situated within a mile of
a barrack, should be used as a bath during the summer months?
The idea of surrender was rejected by the majority, who were for making
a sortie on the police, and thus regain possession of our clothes and
secure our liberty at all hazards. Naked as we were, we numbered nearly
two to one; and although we should be sure to be freely beaten with
their staves, we should ultimately succeed in getting away. We
therefore agreed to make a semblance of surrender in order to get
possession of our clothes, but arranged that we should all finish
dressing at the same time, taking the initiative as to the donning of
each article from a fugleman, so as not to be taken at a disadvantage
before we were dressed and ready for a run or a fight, as circumstances
directed. Accordingly we left the water and commenced to dress, during
which one of the policemen produced a book and gruffly asked our names,
the rest surrounding us, apparently ready for action at the same time.
We looked at each other, and it was at once understood that we should
decline to give any such information. By this time we were attired in
our shirts, trousers, and boots, but were interrupted by each of the
policemen producing a pair of handcuffs. This was too much: I had never
before engaged in a serious encounter, but I was ready and willing for
anything--indeed, both myself and comrades would have died before we
would have submitted to be handcuffed. While one of my arms was in my
jacket-sleeve, I was seized by two policemen; the remaining two grappled
hold of another soldier. With the help of my comrades I managed to
wriggle out of their grasp, but one of the brutes struck me a fearful
blow on my arm with his staff, and one of my comrades was felled to the
ground by a blow on his bare head.
By this time the fight had become general. Charley Dundas (one of the
best soldiers in the regiment, who afterwards died of fever in Chobham
camp) took hold of one policeman with his left hand on the collar of his
coat behind, and with a firm grab of the right on the back of his
trousers, he ran him before him like a wheelbarrow to the edge of the
stream, from whence he pitched him headforemost into the water; the
other three were thrown bodily into the brook. Hats, handcuffs,
coat-tails, and staves, were pitched after them, and away we all
started, over hedge and ditch, the nearest way to the barracks--but the
policemen never chased us a yard.
It is very difficult to pick out a soldier that may be wanted by the
police for such an offence as this, from amongst so many men of about
the same height and weight, all wearing moustaches, and attired exactly
alike; and we knew that if we could only reach the barracks, the chances
of detection were very much in our favour; but it was policy to separate
before we reached the gate, and enter it at different periods with
others not of our party, to avoid suspicion, and this we managed very
nicely.
The same evening, however, while reconnoitring from the barrack-windows,
we espied the four policemen, who, having made a report of the case at
the guard-room, were anxiously striving to recognise in the many men
passing to and fro the parties who had left them in so ignominious a
position. At last they appeared to have found one of the delinquents in
one Barney Camel, who was making the best of his way across the
barrack-yard from the canteen, with a rasher of bacon in his hand, to
his room. Barney bore a striking resemblance to Charley Dundas, the man
who had so unceremoniously tumbled one of our enemies into the brook.
Like Charley, too, when the police attacked us, he had no jacket on, but
his braces were about his hips, his forage-cap was cocked on "three
hairs," and the chin-strap turned over the crown. He was, as he
afterwards remarked, "whistling the `Groves of Blarney,' and thinking of
nothing but the bacon;" when the four policemen surrounded him and
forthwith proceeded to take him to the station-house, followed by a
crowd who rapidly gathered from all parts of the barracks. Now, it so
happened that Barney Camel had but one hour previously returned with a
detachment who had formed an escort of Her Majesty and suite from
Buckingham Palace to Windsor Castle (at that period the railway between
London and Windsor had not been formed). Barney had groomed his horse,
cleaned his saddlery, and was about to enjoy his frugal meal as he
thought, in peace, when he was marched off to the police-station. A
sergeant, however, was sent to tender evidence in his behalf, viz, that
he had been on duty as stated, and at the time the alleged assault was
committed on the police, he must have been on the road between Hounslow
and Windsor. The result was that Barney was discharged, and we never
heard any more of our eventful bathing-excursion, probably because the
police had figured so ingloriously in the contest.
While stationed here, the Earl of Cardigan, who was then
lieutenant-colonel of the 11th Hussars, frequently came down from London
to be present at our reviews and field-days on Hounslow Heath. The
gallant earl, when Lord Brudenell, held a commission in our regiment,
and he had ever taken a great interest in the corps; indeed, it was said
that soon after his duel with Captain Tucket, which occurred about the
period of which I write, he had offered our colonel 8000 pounds to
exchange commissions. Much has been written and said in reference to
the public conduct of this distinguished officer, namely, "that he did
not perform his duty at the battle of Balaklava as became a general."
To these scandalous and scurrilous assertions I am in a position to give
a _decided_ and most _emphatic_ contradiction. The many incidents
connected with the war in the Crimea, and that action in particular,
will form the subject of the concluding portion of these chapters; but I
may here observe that the Earl of Cardigan rode as far and fought as
well as any other man engaged. The truth is, he never was a particular
favourite with the officers of his own regiment, or any other corps
collectively, although individually he has ever had many friends. The
reason is plain: he invariably kept young officers to their duty.
Officers and men must be thorough soldiers--not "Miss Nancy" sort of
fellows--to please _him_ at a field-day, through which he can, in my
opinion, put a regiment or a brigade with more quickness and precision
than any other officer in Her Majesty's service.
But it is time to return to my story. One of our officers had a very
large monkey of the baboon species, which he kept chained in a kennel in
rear of the stables set apart for officers' horses. It was a favourite
diversion with some of our men to turn "Jocko" loose, and let him
scamper all over the barrack-yard; and this he decidedly enjoyed, until
perceived by the dogs, of which there were always a great number of all
sorts about the barracks. When once these got sight or scent of Jocko,
they would quickly unite themselves into a pack, and, followed by a
motley crowd of partly-dressed men and the children of the married
soldiers (the most mischievous of all children), Jocko would lead them a
chase round and round the yard, until some of the dogs got unpleasantly
near, when he would turn round on his pursuers and chatter in the most
laughable manner, which mostly kept them at bay until he had got second
wind, and off he would go again. On one of these occasions he was more
than usually pressed by a new arrival in barracks--a very large Scotch
deerhound, a complete stranger to Jocko. The monkey dashed round the
barrack-yard at a tremendous pace, looking behind him and chattering to
his enemies at every bound. It was during the mid-day stable hour, a
period of the day when all the men and officers are supposed to be in
barracks. On came Jocko at a tearing pace, with the jaws of Bos, the
Highland deerhound, within a yard of his tail, and the rest of the pack
scattered a long way behind, at distances according to their ability to
keep up the pace. The sergeant-major of my troop, who had been promoted
partly in consequence of his growing too fat to serve in the ranks,
stood at a stable-door, which was open; and Jocko, being more anxious
for a friendly shelter than ever I had before seen him, darted between
the fat non-commissioned officer's legs, followed by Bos through the
same opening into the stable. The sudden collision sent the
sergeant-major plump on his back. Jocko jumped on to the back of the
first horse he came near, from whence he sent such a tirade of chatter
as set every horse in the stable capering and kicking at the unusual
row. Bos was bundled out of the stable, but how to get at Jocko was
quite another thing. He evidently thought Bos was waiting for him
outside, and, determined not to be moved without a struggle, he stuck
his sharp claws into the back of the horse, who, suffering from the
acute pain and affright of his novel rider, was nearly mad; now rearing
with his fore-feet in the manger, and then lashing out with his
hind-feet, it was dangerous to approach him. In vain was Jocko
pommelled with the handle of a stable-fork; it only made him stick the
faster. At last we hit upon the idea of leading out the horse to the
side of Jocko's kennel, which he no sooner perceived than he jumped from
the horse's back and entered it.