A MONSTER REVIEW AT DOVER
The Keighley corps, along with the battalion of which it formed a part,
and many other regiments from various parts of the country, were next
ordered to Dover, to take part in a gigantic review there. In all there
would be about 30,000 troops gathered, these including both Regulars and
Volunteers of all grades and classes. His Majesty the King of the
Belgians was to be present at the review. The Keighley contingent left
the town on the Saturday morning before one Easter-Monday, and finally
arrived at St. Pancras at 11 o' clock at night. We marched to the
barracks of the Surrey Volunteers, who gave us a right loyal and warm
reception, and, indeed, showed us the most extreme kindness throughout
our stay with them; and this good feeling between the Surrey Rifles and
the Keighley Rifles has, I believe, been continued down to the present
moment. Captain Irving evinced a deep interest in us, and he remained
with us until a late (or early) retiring-hour, amusing us with his
Cockney yarns. In the morning we took part in a
CHURCH PARADE TO WESTMINSTER ABBEY
It was a pleasant Sunday morning, and I was out of the barracks early,
taking a few miles' walk. I was back in readiness for the parade, which
saw us at the Abbey in good time, and we were permitted to look through
the beautiful edifice, and admire and reverence the interesting national
mementoes within its walls. We took our seats in time for the service.
Dean Stanley was the preacher, and I regarded it a fine treat to have the
privilege of listening to such an eloquent sermon as the Dean delivered
on "The Passover." I must confess that there were certain passages in the
rev. gentleman's discourse which I could not fairly understand; but,
perhaps that was owing a great deal to my attention being centred
elsewhere. Opposite me sat an elderly gentleman, clean shaven, with
close-cut side whiskers. This gentleman was very attentive to the sermon,
and likewise to his Prayer-book. Sergeant Midgley (who is at present in
Keighley), a fellow-Volunteer, whispered in my ear, "Do you know that old
gentleman across the aisle?" "No," replied I. He told me he was no less a
personage than Mr Jefferson Davis, Ex-president of the Confederate States
of America. Instantly my mind was involuntarily set a-thinking about the
American Civil War, and its four years of human butchery--all brought
about by this man in front of me who was now coolly listening to the word
of God! However, the service was over, and the Volunteers filed out of
the church and marched to the strains of their drum and fife band, which
played rollicking tunes to the delight of the rollicking Yorkshiremen.
When we got in front of the Bank of England, Captain Allan Brown
(commanding the Keighley detachment) halted and dismissed us until seven
in the evening.
SEEING THE "SIGHTS O' LUNNON"
We broke up into parties. Billy Bentley, John Walton, Thomas Ackroyd,
William Brown, and Ben Atkinson were in the party which I joined. Bentley
had served as a policeman in London, and knew his way about the
metropolis fairly well; Ackroyd had worked as a tailor in the big city,
and I myself had been there before; so that we were able to find our way
about very well. We went through St. Paul's Cathedral, and then on to
Trafalgar Square, passing, on our way, through St. James' Park, just
outside of which we saw the cluster of monuments to the Crimean heroes
who fought for "England's home and beauty." We also visited the Duke of
Wellington's house, and spent a short time in Hyde Park. Having viewed
the extensive block of buildings comprising Buckingham Palace, we passed
into Regent-street and here the party broke up.
I MEET WITH A KEIGHLEY GENTLEMAN
It was here that I met with Mr Frederick Carrodus, brother of the eminent
violinist, Mr John Tiplady Carrodus, who, by the way, paid a visit to his
native town of Keighley a few weeks ago. Mr Fred Carrodus had with him a
gentleman whom he introduced to me as Mr Hermann, pianoforte
manufacturer, and to whom I was introduced by Mr Carrodus as Bill o' th'
Hoylus End, the Yorkshire poet. For four or five hours we were bosom
friends and comrades, as it were. Mr Hermann knew his way about London to
perfection, and he took me to many places "to see what I could see." He
had always his hands down to pay, telling me that he would treat the
Yorkshire poet as long as he was with him; and that he did. It was
tolerably late at night when Mr Carrodus and Mr Hermann and I said _au
revoir_ to one another. I made my way as quickly as possible to the
Surrey barracks, and my hurried journey must have caused no little wonder
and alarm in the minds of the easy-going Londoners whom I met and passed.
Seven o'clock was the time when I should have been in the barracks but it
was much after that hour. However, an explanation to Captain Brown set
matters right.
OFF TO DOVER--A STORMY MORNING
Next morning, about four o'clock, the bugle sounded the _reveille_ and
soon after we were all in marching order. We proceeded by an early train
on the Chatham and Dover Railway, and by nine o'clock in the morning had
reached our destination--Dover. It was, I think, one of the coldest and
most miserable mornings I ever experienced. The sea was very rough, the
waves lashing on the roadway; and the rain came down in torrents. During
the night there had been such a storm in the Channel, the natives said,
that had not been equalled for half-a-century. The whole of the soldiers
were paraded on the Esplanade, but they were again and again forced back
from the edge of the shore, until there was really no room to pile arms.
General Lindsay saw the situation, and came riding up with several
officers, with whom he held a sort of council of war. Before they had
arrived at a decision, the waves had come over the beach and dashed right
up to where the soldiers were standing. "It's no use," said General
Lindsey, "this review is a forlorn hope--I must dismiss the parade." He
then gave the whole of the Volunteers orders to dismiss until three
o'clock in the afternoon. The men dispersed in various directions, and
just as they had got pretty nearly cleared away, up rode the Duke of
Cambridge and Prince Arthur (now Duke of Connaught). The two Royal
personages drew up in front of a large hotel, and out of curiosity I
remained standing by. The Duke was in a very angry mood, and demanded to
know who had dismissed the parade. Upon this, General Lindsey made his
appearance in the doorway of the hotel, and, addressing the Duke of
Cambridge, said:--"Your Royal Highness,--Owing to the severe inclemency
of the weather, I have thought fit to dismiss the parade until three
o'clock in the afternoon." "You had no business to do such a thing," the
Duke hotly replied. "It will be a failure, and His Majesty the King of
Belgium will be disappointed. Send out your _aid-de-camp_ to bring
everyone in--never mind the weather." The storm was still raging. I
noticed a couple of steamers in the offing. They were coming from France,
and the passengers were Volunteers who had been in that country since
Saturday. The vessels could be seen buffeting with the waves, and it was
noticed that the funnels of the steamers were missing, having, as we
afterwards learned, been blown away by the violent wind and heavy sea. It
was about this period that a small vessel--a gunboat, I think it was--the
"Ferret," was driven on the rocks in front of the Castle, and dashed to
pieces. The crew managed to get off by the boats. For a time it was
believed that a boy on the boat had been lost, but he was subsequently
rescued. After much delay the two steamers were able to land the
Volunteers, who told a terrible tale of their rough voyage across the
Channel.
I PERFORM A MILITARY TACTIC
In the meantime, the Duke of Cambridge was "drilling" General Lindsey for
dismissing the troops. Wise, perhaps, in my generation, I stole away on
hearing the General instructed to re-collect the troops, and got into the
back quarters of the town. I finally found myself in a tavern kept by an
old cobbler, and he allowed me to dry my soaked uniform. Through a window
in the house I could watch the movements of the troops who had been got
together again. Soon after dinner there was a calm in the weather; the
rain ceased and the sun came out.
UP THE HEIGHTS OF DOVER
I could see regiment after regiment ascend the Heights of Dover. Now, a
battalion of "stragglers" was being formed, so, after having partaken of
refreshment, I emerged from my lair. I found a trooper in waiting at the
end of the passage, and he ordered me to double to and fall in quick or
he would "prick" me. I joined the "stragglers." We climbed the Heights
together, and then each man joined his own regiment. While all this was
going on sailors from vessels anchored in the harbour had been dragging
big guns up the heights; and, in fact, the preparations that were made
favoured the idea that a real engagement was about to take place. When
all was in readiness
THE SIGNAL FOR THE START
was given. There was a tremendous cannonading, which would be heard for
some distance. Then there were movements by the cavalry soldiers, who, in
their charges, trampled down hedges, corn and, in truth, everything that
came in their way. This did really seem to me a ruthless and
unjustifiable proceeding. The manoeuvres concluded with volley-firing by
the respective companies of the various regiments. General McDonald gave
the Keighley Volunteers great praise for their efficiency in
volley-firing. The sham fight lasted over three hours, and was witnessed
with apparent interest by the King of Belgium and his staff. At the
conclusion, each regiment went in its own direction. The Keighley
contingent returned to the Surrey barracks, arriving about 10 o'clock at
night. We found a grand banquet awaiting us, and this, I need scarcely
say, was very welcome after a truly hard day's work. The repast was
succeeded by an entertainment, at which there were vocal and instrumental
music, and readings and recitations, by several of the Keighley
representatives and the Surrey officers. Captain Irving gave readings in
the Cockney dialect, which immensely amused the Yorkshiremen. The Haworth
Drill-sergeant recited "Cockhill Moor Snake," and Bill o' th' Hoylus End
gave "Jack o' th' Syke Hill" and "Come, nivver dee i' thi shell, owd
lad,"--the latter of which our townsman, Squire Leach, publicly recited
on his marriage day, and a few verses of which I am tempted to introduce
here:--
"Come, nivver dee i' thi shell, owd lad,"
Are words but rudely said,
Tho' they may cheer some stricken heart,
Or raise some wretched head;
For they are words ah love,
They're music to mi ear;
They muster up fresh energy
To chase each doubt an' fear.
Nivver dee i' thi shell, owd lad,
Tho' some may laugh an' scorn;
Ther' wor nivver a neet afore ta neet
But what ther come a morn.
An' if blind fortune's used thee bad,
Sho's happen noan so meean;
To morn'll come, an' then for some
T' sun'll shine ageean.
Nivver dee i' thi shell, owd lad,
But let thi motto be--
"Onward!" an' "Excelsior!"
An' try for t' top o' t' tree;
An' if thy enemies still pursue
(Which ten ta one they will),
Show 'em, owd lad, thou'rt doing weel,
An' climbin' up the hill.
Very pleasant hours were those spent with the Surrey Volunteers that
night in spite of our tired and wearied condition. Next day we returned
to Keighley, only to find that after our week's absence the town had not
altered very much!
A VOLUNTEER DRAMATIC SOCIETY
We had found the Surrey Volunteers possessed a very good dramatic class
and a pretty little theatre in the barracks. This led to the formation of
a similar organisation at Keighley, and among the members of the society
were Sergeant Atty, Private Thomas Ackroyd, Corporal Colley, Sergeant
William Brown, Private John Walton, Sergeant Roddy, and Corporal Wright
(_alias_ Bill o' th' Hoylus End). We got a stage erected in the Drill
Hall, and purchased a drop-scene (in the centre of which was worked in
silk a representation of the coat of arms of the Cavendish family), and
all the necessary accessories. This was all done "on strap." For our
first performance we gave the comedy "Time tries all," and there was a
large and influential gathering, including Mr Birkbeck, banker, of
Settle, and party. Mr Birkbeck afterwards invited the society to repeat
the performance at his residence. The proceeds of our first entertainment
were 14 pounds, and performances on two other nights brought the sum up
to 40 pounds. It was not long before we had raised 80 pounds and this was
sufficient to discharge all expenses incurred in erecting and fitting up
the stage, purchasing costumes, &c. The society continued to prosper.
Military plays were generally chosen for representation, such as "The
Roll of the drum" and "The Deserter." At last, certain difficulties arose
which sealed the doom of the society, and the organisation soon dropped
into decay. The stage, &c., were allowed to remain, and the hall was let
to travelling theatricals and other companies. The dramatic society and
the reviews which the Volunteers occasionally attended at London, York,
Doncaster and Liverpool all tended to make my connection with the
Volunteer corps very pleasant and enjoyable; and I can truly say that in
those days it was regarded a great privilege to be a Volunteer. My
membership of the Keighley corps extended over fourteen years, and would
not then have been severed but for my removal to Bradford. Perhaps I may
wind up my Volunteering history with a few verses which I penned on the
death of Captain Irving of the Surrey Volunteers:--
Gone is poor Irving, the brave Volunteer--
The soldier, the man, is now on his bier;
He was with you all round, as well as the ranks,
Full of wit, and good humour, and frolicsome pranks.
He could mimic the Cockney at home or abroad,
He could shoulder a rifle or handle a sword;
His word of command would put you all right;
He could talk to a stranger from morning to night.
But, alas! he is gone, and we now mourn his loss,
For he's gi'en up his sword at the foot of the Cross.
And if there's an army wherever he's gone,
We know that brave Irving is second to none.