TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.
Some minor changes to the text are noted at the end of the book.
LORD WILLIAM BERESFORD, V.C.
SOME MEMORIES OF A FAMOUS
SPORTSMAN, SOLDIER
AND WIT
[Illustration: “FIGHTING BILL”
_Reproduced by permission from “Vanity Fair”_]
LORD WILLIAM
BERESFORD, V.C.
SOME MEMORIES OF A FAMOUS
SPORTSMAN, SOLDIER AND WIT
BY
MRS. STUART MENZIES
WITH APPRECIATIONS BY
THE EARL OF CROMER &
ADMIRAL LORD BERESFORD
38 ILLUSTRATIONS, ALSO REPRODUCTIONS
OF THE SIGNATURES OF THOSE
PRESENT AT THE FAMOUS FAREWELL
DINNER AT CALCUTTA
HERBERT JENKINS LIMITED
ARUNDEL PLACE HAYMARKET
LONDON S.W. ✤ ✤ ✤ MCMXVII
PRINTED BY WM. BRENDON AND SON, LTD., PLYMOUTH, ENGLAND
INTRODUCTION
There are days when we are under the spell of the past, when lovely
times, lovely things, and delightful people that have lapsed into
“have beens” are again with us, in a mist of memories and dreams, but
memories and dreams that have been true and real--to be treasured
always.
In my memory there are silhouetted against the horizon of the past a
few figures (amongst the many kind friends who have journeyed with
me) who stand alone, whose greatness of character singled them from
their fellows, others whose splendid works for state or humanity
have marked them, but I pause before a figure that would have told
us he was nothing in particular, yet few men have been so loved, so
universally popular as the late Lord William Beresford, V.C., one of
the most charming characters and greatest personalities of the age, a
brave and gallant soldier, a loyal and faithful friend, possessing an
extraordinarily generous nature. A man has not lived for nothing, and
must be something in particular, when his friends can truly say that
of him.
I have waited a long time before undertaking this work, hoping some
more able pen than mine would give to his old friends and future
generations some record of Lord William’s eventful life, a few
memories of his many kindnesses and unostentatious charities, his
pluck, deeds of daring and unfailing cheeriness.
No such scribe appearing, I have taken my courage in both hands
and endeavoured to pay a small tribute to the memory of an old and
valued friend, being encouraged by the letter I received (January
16th, 1916) from Lord Beresford, better known and loved by the great
British public as Lord Charles Beresford, in which he wrote:
1, GREAT CUMBERLAND PLACE,
LONDON, W.,
_19th January, 1916_.
“DEAR MRS. STUART MENZIES,
“Thank you for your letter. I am so delighted to hear that you are
going to write the life of my dear brother Bill; he had the most
lovable nature, the most charming character, the pluckiest spirit
and most generous mind that I have ever met. He was always thinking
of others and never of himself. I shall be delighted to help you in
any way that I can.
“May all good luck attend you. The whole family will be most
interested in your life of perhaps one of the most gallant
officers, noble gentlemen, and charming comrades that ever existed.
“Yours very sincerely,
“CHARLES BERESFORD.”
Lord Cromer also, who was for some years associated with Lord William
in India, wrote to me saying:
“DEAR MRS. STUART MENZIES,
“As I understand that you are engaged in writing the life of
my old and very dear friend, Bill Beresford, I hope you will
allow me to bear testimony to his great charm of character, his
characteristically national sense of humour, and his staunch
loyalty to both his country and his friends. I knew Bill Beresford
very well and had a great liking for him. He was a fine gallant
fellow with all the pluck and dash of his race and family,
and moreover had a keen sense of humour. I was for some years
associated with him when he was on the staffs of Lord Northbrook
and Lord Ripon when Viceroys of India. He was the cheeriest of
companions and the most gallant of soldiers--in a word, one of the
best fellows I have ever come across during a long life.
“Very sincerely yours,
“(Signed) CROMER.”
I wish to take this opportunity of thanking the many friends of his
and mine who have been so good as to assist me, without whose help I
could not have hoped to do justice, even in this small measure, to a
life so full of incident, and kindness for all who were associated
with him. More especially are my thanks due to his brother, Lord
Beresford, Lady Waterford, Edith Lady Lytton, Lord Ripon, Lord
Rossmore, Sir Claude de Crespigny, his brother officers in the past,
and his contemporaries on the various staffs, to Mr. Arthur Meyrick,
also to his old and faithful friend, Mr. Charles Moore.
I have used one or two cuttings from old newspapers, but having no
idea what they appeared in, I have been unable to ask permission to
reproduce them, therefore ask forgiveness from all on whose grounds I
may have trespassed.
I must also ask the indulgence of my readers in the matter of dates,
having had to rely on memory to a great extent, aided by a few
letters, papers, race cards, photos, etc., being handicapped by there
being no mother or wife living into whose store-house of precious
letters, and documents, it might be possible to dip, also by so many
of Lord William’s intimate friends having left us and passed into the
great Silence.
A. C. STUART MENZIES.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
EARLY DAYS
PAGE
Early Childhood--Eton Days--Mischief and Whackings--Companions
at Work and Play--Sporting Contemporaries of Note--The So-styled
“Mad Marquis”--His Bride--Carriage Accident--Ride in Grand
National--House of Commons Acknowledgment of Lady Waterford’s
Goodness to the Irish during the Famine--Joins the 9th Lancers in
Dublin--A Few Sporting Mishaps--Why he Spent his Life in India 1
CHAPTER II
GOOD-BYE TO ENGLAND
Coach-driving Exploit--The Badger Bet and How It was Won--The
Raleigh Club and the Garçon Glacé Episode--Some Merry Frequenters
of the Club--Regimental Racing--The Tenth Hussars’ Steeplechases,
Exciting Race Between H.R.H.’s Horse and Lord Valentia’s--Aldershot
Coaching Accident--Polo at Woolwich--Sale of 10th Hussars’
ponies--Friendly Altercations at York--The Three Brothers’ Race--Au
Revoir to Merry England 24
CHAPTER III
JOINS VICEROY’S STAFF
What he Might Have Been--A Happy Exile--Lumtiddy Hall--Unsuccessful
Journey to Pay Calls--Appointed to Staff of Retiring Viceroy--First
Summer at Simla--Appointed A.D.C. to Lord Lytton--Annandale
Racecourse--Birth of _The Asian_--Dinner to Its Sporting
Owner--Winner of Viceroy’s Cup--Delhi Durbar, 1887--Mighty
Preparations--A Terrible Accident 46
CHAPTER IV
HE WINS THE V.C.
Hero of Khartoum’s Fame and Tragedy, as Private Secretary--Indian
Famine--Lord William and the Jowakis--A Month’s Holiday
in Afghanistan--Back in Calcutta--Barrackpore Monument
to Lady Canning--Lady Waterford as Artist--Cawnpore
Memorial--Racing--Trouble in South Africa--A Favour Granted--Off
to the War--A Friend Left in Charge of Affairs--Some Fights for
Queen and Country--Some Fights for Private Reasons--Exciting
Moments--Irish Bravery of Man and Beast--Two V.C.’s at
Dinner--Receives Reward at Hands of the Queen-Empress--A Shower
Bath in Dublin--Some Racing and a Row--A Thrice-run Race--Miller
Addresses Lord William 65
CHAPTER V
THE VICEROY RETIRES
Change of Government and What it Meant--Why it Took Place
at Simla--The Ceremony--An Anxious Moment--A General
Stampede--Retirement of Lord Lytton--Work of Which Viceroy?--Lord
William’s Services Valued--A Bet Between Him and the Author--Lord
William’s 10 to 1 96
CHAPTER VI
AN IDEAL MILITARY SECRETARY
Dignity and Humour--Some Tests of Both--Affection of the Natives
for Lord William--How They Tried to Please him--What Happened
on a Slippery Floor--Some Tableaux--A Supper and a Race--What
the Jockey Club Would Have Said--Lord Ripon’s Message to the
Amir of Afghanistan--The Amir’s Reply--The Work of the Military
Secretary--Swelled Heads and Outgrown Shoes--How Lord William Dealt
with Them--Pay of Military Secretary--Compensation for Diminishing
Rupee--No Fish to Fry 112
CHAPTER VII
SOME RACING EXPERIENCES
First Racing Partnership--Some Successful Horses--The “White
Mutiny”--Military Secretaries Come and Go--Fleur-de-Lys’
Affection--Racing--Paperchasing--An Exciting Drive--Ponto’s
Admiration for the Fair Sex--Inverarm--How a Sick Soldier
Fared--Love of Children--A Children’s Party and How it Ended--The
Home for Lost Dogs--Simla Gymkhanas--A Sore Head--A Change of
Mounts--Sipi Fair and Marriage Market--What Some of Lord William’s
Friends Said--Why he was like King Solomon 132
CHAPTER VIII
LORD RIPON LEAVES INDIA
Arrangements for Entertaining Visitors--Lord de Grey’s Shooting--A
Good-looking Staff--A Fancy Ball--The Baby cries--Lord William
Feeds the Infant--Singing Quadrilles--Pig-sticking--The Tent Club
and Its Members--A Case of Mistaken Identity--The Reputation
Match--Lord William Resolves to Give Up Racing--Lord Ripon’s
Farewell 153
CHAPTER IX
LORD DUFFERIN’S VICEROYALTY
Lord Dufferin succeeds Lord Ripon as Viceroy--Durbar at Rawal
Pindi to Meet the Amir of Afghanistan--A Few Annoyances--How
it All Ended--Some Presents--Outline of a Viceroy’s Tour--A
Nasty Fall--Sale of Confederacy Horses--“Father Time”--Parlour
Fireworks--A Ride to the Pyramids--Unostentatious Charity--Some
Impositions 177
CHAPTER X
DEAR LONDON AGAIN
The Man Who Thought He Was King--A Dance After Dinner--How It
Ended--Corney Grain in Disgrace on the Door-mat--Racing--Trouble
in Burmah--Lord Dufferin and Lord William Go There--Collecting the
Offertory in Church--Some Schemes of Interest 196
CHAPTER XI
SOME SPORTING MEMORIES
Lord William’s Driving--One or Two Experiences--A Sermon in the
Smoking-room--Useful Shirt Cuffs--Convenient Handwriting--New
Year’s Parade--A Waiting Race--A Spoilt Meeting--Purchase of Myall
King--Dufferins Leave India--Rules Issued by Lord William for Their
Departure 214
CHAPTER XII
A WINNING YEAR
On Leave--At the Derby Once More--Lord Lansdowne Takes
Office--Conjurer’s Discomfort--A Gentle Reproach--Irishmen
in India--Another Racing Partnership--A Turf Club
Inquiry--Paperchasers--A Telegram from Lucknow--Lord William’s
Health--Jockey in Trouble Again 233
CHAPTER XIII
THE FAMOUS FAREWELL DINNER
Why the Maharajah of Durbangah Gave up Racing--The Maharajah of
Patiala Joins the Stable--The Indian Lotteries--Some Successful
Racing--Lord Bill Pays Up--Simla Feeling Sad--Death of Myall
King--Some of His Chief Races--Farewell Dinner--List of
Guests--Speeches 250
CHAPTER XIV
HIS MARRIAGE
First Visit to the Deepdene--Finds a Relation in His
Bedroom--Engagement to be Married Announced--School Treats--One New
Year’s Morning--King Edward VII Visits the Deepdene When Prince of
Wales--A Narrow Escape--“Tommy, Where Are You?”--Why Lord William
wore a Turban--Fast Trotters and Their Doings--Mishap on the Way
to the Derby--Racing in England--Racing Geography--Another Racing
Partnership--Accident While Hunting--Mr. Palmer to the Rescue--Lord
William Tells a Story Against Himself--A Son Born 283
CHAPTER XV
BRINGS TOD SLOAN TO ENGLAND
Engagement of Tod Sloan as Jockey--Beresford Family
Affection--Caiman Wins Classic Race--Democrat and His Races--A
Tip for the “Blues”--Accident to Sloan--His Downfall--Five Years’
Racing and Winnings in Stakes Alone--Volodyovski Bought--At
Liverpool When Ambush II Won the Grand National 299
CHAPTER XVI
LAST YEARS
“1900 ... and Feels It”--Affection for the 9th Lancers--Help for
a Brother Mason--Those Who Loved Him--Friends, not Sight-Seers--A
Treasured Gift--Sale of Horses at Newmarket--Purchasers and
Prices--Fate of Democrat--Volodyovski Wins the Derby--Too
Late--Fierce Ownership Dispute--The Law Settles It--Broken Head of
a small Beresford 315
ILLUSTRATIONS
LORD WILLIAM BERESFORD (from _Vanity Fair_) _Frontispiece_
TO FACE PAGE
LORD WILLIAM AT ETON. AGED 11 4
CURRAGHMORE 16
9TH LANCERS IN DUBLIN, 1867 18
9TH LANCERS’ POLO GROUP AT WOOLWICH 38
THE FAMOUS BERESFORD BROTHERS’ RACE 42
LORD WILLIAM BERESFORD AND CAPTAIN CLAYTON 48
“LUMTIDDY HALL” 50
9TH LANCERS’ MESS, SIALKÔTE, 1876 52
THE DELHI DURBAR, 1877 60
XMAS CARD TO THE AUTHOR 72
CAPTAIN CHARLES MUIR (NOW COLONEL), A.D.C. TO VICEROY AND
COMMANDING HIS EXCELLENCY’S BODY GUARD 80
LORD WILLIAM AND PONTO 80
LORD LYTTON, FAMILY, AND STAFF, 1877 104
LORD WILLIAM BERESFORD’S HORSE DEMOCRAT 132
LORD WILLIAM BERESFORD LEADING KATE COVENTRY, RIDDEN BY
DEWING. CALCUTTA, 1881 132
GROUP AT BARRACKPORE ON THE LAWN 154
STAFF AND GUESTS AT VICEREGAL LODGE, SIMLA 156
SOME NOTABLE MEMBERS OF THE CALCUTTA TENT CLUB 160
LORD RIPON, LADY RIPON, AND STAFF 166
THE LATE MARQUESS OF RIPON, VICEROY OF INDIA 172
LORD DUFFERIN, FAMILY, AND STAFF 182
LORD WILLIAM BERESFORD IN 1886 218
THE VICEROY’S STAFF IN LIGHTER MOMENTS 232
THE MARQUESS OF LANSDOWNE 234
BEAUTIFUL BLITZ 242
PILOTEER WINNING A TROTTING PRIZE 242
H.H. THE MAHARAJAH OF PATIALA 252
NEW PAVILION AT ANNANDALE 256
MYALL KING’S GRAVE 262
REPRODUCTION OF SIGNATURES OF THOSE PRESENT AT THE CALCUTTA
BANQUET, DECEMBER 30, 1893 272
LILY, DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH 284
THE DEEPDENE, DORKING 286
FRONT HALL AT THE DEEPDENE 286
LORD WILLIAM, IN OFFICIAL CAPACITY 298
LORD WILLIAM AND HIS SON BILLY 298
TOD SLOAN IN LORD WILLIAM’S COLOURS 304
CAIMAN AT THE POST FOR THE MIDDLE PARK PLATE THE DAY HE
BEAT FLYING FOX. TOD SLOAN IN LORD WILLIAM’S COLOURS 304
LORD WILLIAM AND LORD MARCUS BERESFORD 314
COLONEL LORD WILLIAM LESLIE
DE LA POER BERESFORD, V.C., K.C.I.E.
1846-1900
LORD WILLIAM BERESFORD, V.C.
CHAPTER I
EARLY DAYS
Early Childhood--Eton Days--Mischief and Whackings--Companions
at Work and Play--Sporting Contemporaries of Note--The So-styled
“Mad Marquis”--His Bride--Carriage Accident--Ride in Grand
National--House of Commons Acknowledgment of Lady Waterford’s
Goodness to the Irish during the Famine--Joins the 9th Lancers in
Dublin--A Few Sporting Mishaps--Why he Spent his Life in India
The subject of these memories was the third son of the fourth Marquis
of Waterford, who married the third daughter of Mr. Charles Powell
Leslie of Glaslaugh, M.P. for Monaghan.
The children of this union were five sons:--
1. John Henry de la Poer.
2. Charles William de la Poer.
3. William Leslie de la Poer.
4. Marcus Talbot de la Poer.
5. Delaval James de la Poer.
In 1866 the fourth Marquis died, and was succeeded by John Henry,
the first of the five sons mentioned already, and elder brother
of the Lord William of whom I write. One of the most delightful
characteristics of this family has always been its unity; the
brothers were devoted to one another, their home and their parents.
To the end of his days Lord William spoke of Curraghmore as “Home,”
and of his devotion to his beautiful mother. She must have been
a proud woman, having brought into the world five such splendid
specimens of humanity, all handsome, having inherited the Beresford
good looks, high spirits, and pluck, whilst happily imbued with the
pride of race which is the making of great men.
There is nothing snobbish or vulgar in being proud of our ancestry,
though it may seem so to those who are unacquainted with their own.
Even savages have pride of race, and it has been so since the days
of Virgil, and before that. Let us hope it will always be so. It is
our birthright, which is well, for it helps men and women to keep
straight, sorry to be the first to lower the standard or bring it
into disrepute.
Look at the pride of race among the different tribes in the East how
strong it is, their castes are profound and deep religions to them,
their inherited pride of race, for which they willingly die, rather
than suffer any real or imaginary indignity.
This instinct is still strongly marked in our present-day Gypsies,
who are exceedingly exclusive and proud of their race, and they will
tell with pride, if you know them well enough, that the reason they
are, and will be ever more, accursed and hunted from place to place,
is because a Gypsy forged the nails used in the Crucifixion.
The Lithuanian Gypsies say stealing has been permitted in their
families by the crucified Jesus, because they, being present at the
Crucifixion, stole one of the nails from the Cross, after which
stealing was no longer a sin. This sounds irreverent, but they do not
treat it lightly. The belief has been handed down to them, grown with
them, and they seem sadly proud of their history, legend, or whatever
it may be.
From an early age Lord William seems to have realised what was due to
his family and his race, for with all his high spirits, even in the
effervescence of youth, never once has anybody been able to say he
brought discredit on his family.
The Beresfords have for generations been keen sportsmen,
high-spirited, unspoilt, straightforward gentlemen; using the word in
its old-fashioned full significance. Lord William was no exception
to this rule, and it has not been given to many to be so universally
popular. His worst enemy was himself, inasmuch as he habitually put
more work into twenty-four hours than most people would consider
a fair week’s allowance. From an early age he loved excitement,
courting danger and adventure, resulting in most of the bones in his
body having at one time or another some experiences, and I shall
always think that but for the juggling tricks he played with his
life he might still be with us, and the world the better for his
cheeriness, generosity, and loyal friendship.
This is not a proper biography in the everyday acceptance of the
term, it aspires to nothing so great. I have neither the competency
to entitle me, nor the ambition to urge me to write a formal and
stereotyped account of Lord William’s life, but only some memories,
full of the little things that matter, small details that bring us
closer to the character and introduce us to the personality of the
man.
It is not as a soldier, it is not as a statesman that I claim
applause for Lord William, though both may be owed, but for his
thoroughness in whatever he undertook, his unfailing cheerfulness,
his loyalty, energy, and marvellous pluck.
In his early days the principle of--“Whatsoever thy hand findeth
to do, do it with all thy might,” must have been driven home, for
whatever he undertook, that he certainly did with all his might; but
his generosity and his kindliness of nature and his tact must have
been born with him on July 20th, 1847, in the quaint little village
of Mullaghbrach, in the north of Ireland, where his father was rector
until he succeeded his brother, the third Marquess, in 1859. The
early days of Lord William’s childhood were spent in this peaceful
home with the usual accompaniment of nurses, followed by a German
governess until he was considered old enough for further instruction,
when the Rev. Dr. Renau’s Preparatory School at Bayford was chosen,
the present Lord Methuen being there at the same time. After which,
when eleven years old, that is in the year 1858, he was sent to Eton,
first to the house of Mr. Hawtry, and then into Dr. Warre’s.
[Illustration: LORD WILLIAM AT ETON, AGED 11]
It is interesting to note that the present-day actor is a relation of
Mr. Hawtry of Eton fame. It was through the Eton Hawtry’s persuasions
that the Prince Consort founded a prize for modern languages at
the College.
Lord Cheylesmore, Sir Simon Lockhart, and Lord Langford were at Dr.
Warre’s house with Lord William, the two latter being among the
Doctor’s earliest pupils. Lord Langford says, “Bill was never out of
rows of different sorts.” While Lord Methuen tells me he remembers
seconding a boy named Allen at his tutor’s in a fight with Lord
William, adding, “And it was a very hard fight,” but being senior to
Lord Bill he saw very little of him while there. Dr. Warre-Cornish,
Vice-Provost of Eton, said, “I always liked him. His Eton record is
chiefly connected with schoolboy sports and skirmishes with masters
at Windsor Fairs, and other places. He kept many bulldogs and was of
a turbulent disposition.”
The gas works were close to Dr. Warre’s house, and behind them was
the rendezvous of those who had any differences to settle. Lord
Langford says, “I think Lord Bill often paid a visit there!” and
adds, “On one occasion he captured a polecat and tied it to the leg
of a chair in Dr. Warre’s house.” We can well imagine the breathless
moments in store for the household. Various surreptitious journeys
were taken to feed it and make sure of its safety. Then there was the
exciting time of changing the animal’s quarters and attaching it, in
spite of protestations, to a certain chair!
History does not relate what happened, but something entertaining, no
doubt. After being a year at Eton, Lord Bill heard of the death of
his uncle, and that henceforth his home would be at Curraghmore.
While at Eton he seems to have been chiefly conspicuous for his love
of sport and fighting, his high spirits, ready wit, and popularity
with all. He worked as much as was necessary and no more, for he
loved the river, running after beagles, paper, or any other form of
sport, more especially a fight. Happily in his time the battles were
not so serious as they were in 1825 when Lord Shaftesbury’s brother,
Francis Ashley, was carried home to die after fighting for two hours
with a boy named Wood.
Like a few other men one could name who have been educated at public
schools, and later held important and responsible posts, he could
not always depend on his pen carrying out his wishes and spelling
properly. Long after having arrived at years of discretion, shall I
say? he constantly wrote to an old friend as “My dear Jhon,” meaning
John. One day we were talking about certain clever people being
unable to spell properly and chaffing him about it; nobody enjoyed a
joke against himself better than he did. Somebody asked him, “Bill,
why don’t you write the word you are uncertain of down on a piece of
paper with all the variations as they occur to you? The look of the
word would tell you which was right?” He replied, “I always do write
it down on a piece of paper and never doubt its being right.” After
which there was nothing more to be said, and we decided it would all
be the same a hundred years hence, therefore it did not matter; and
at any rate he had my sympathy. He agreed with Yeats, the Dublin
poet, who sang:
“Accursed he who brings to light of day
The writings I have cast away;
But blessed he who stirs them not,
But lets the kind worms eat the lot.”
Certainly Lord William’s letters were short and sweet; he did not
commit more to writing than he could help, thereby proving that he
was a wise man.
Five years were spent at Eton, and they were spoken of as happy ones.
Even at that early age his passion for racing betrayed itself and
led to trouble, for on one occasion the attractions of Ascot became
too much for him. Knowing that if he asked for leave to go it would
be denied him, he took French leave, and received a whacking on his
return, which reminds me that before Lord William’s time a certain
flogging block belonging to the College disappeared one day, having
been kidnapped by one of the Beresfords, the third Marquess, I think,
when he was at Eton, and is now in evidence at Curraghmore, or was a
few years ago. As far as I can gather there was no hue and cry after
that interesting piece of furniture, and the next time there was any
whacking to be done another block was found to be reigning in its
stead; so presumably there was a supply kept in the store-room among
the pickles and the jam.
Lord William’s contemporaries, besides those already mentioned, were
the present Sir Hugh McCalmont, afterwards a brother officer and
life-long friend, the late Lord Jersey, and the present Lord Minto.
Lord William was fag to both the latter in succession, Mr. Charles
Moore, another life-long friend, and, I believe, Lord Rossmore.
At the age of sixteen, Lord William left Eton and went to Bonn
to study French and German under a tutor named Dr. Perry, others
studying there at the same time being the Hon. Elliot and Alec Yorke,
and the Hon. Eric Barrington, who tells me he was also with him at
Eton, where “his principal reputation was that he and a friend of his
had been subjected to more floggings within a certain time than had
previously been recorded by anyone else.” Sir Eric says when he found
Lord William at Bonn: “I was both surprised and delighted to find
Bill Beresford there, not having hitherto associated him with foreign
languages.” Some amusing accounts are given to me also of the Bonn
days, where he says: “Our tutor had a peculiar way of accustoming us
to the use of the German tongue, as, though we had a resident German
tutor in the house, we were strictly forbidden to make any German
acquaintances in the town, and were enjoined on our word of honour
to talk German to each other during certain hours every day. A worse
practice could hardly be imagined. Nevertheless, Bill undoubtedly
acquired a certain facility in chattering, which he afterwards told
me was most useful to him with the Dutch during the South African
campaign.” Again speaking of Lord William he says: “His nature was
exceedingly lovable, and he was very popular with his fellow pupils
and tutors, whom, however, he took no pains to conciliate. During
one altercation with his German tutor, the latter was heard to say,
‘Beresford, I loved you once, but I despise you now!’ which diverted
us greatly at the time.”
From accounts of those times it appears that it was the habit of
Dr. Perry to give a gala supper the night before breaking up for the
holidays, at which all the instructors were present. On one of these
occasions a certain student at the University who had been giving
Lord William lessons in Latin, and who was much attached to him, made
the following speech in English with a very strong German accent: “I
have heard of Merry old England, but I have never heard of the Merry
old Ireland. I wish to propose the toast of the Merry old Ireland and
the Merry old Beresford.”
To amuse himself at Bonn, Lord William used to boat with his
companions on the Rhine, and took special delight in the company of
an English livery-stable keeper, who kept a certain number of riding
horses of inferior calibre, with which he was intimately acquainted,
riding being his favourite recreation.
I am afraid Lord William constantly broke Dr. Perry’s rules, and
was frequently being sent away in consequence; but his mother, Lady
Waterford, said she took no notice of the letters telling her of her
son’s dismissal, as they were invariably followed by others recalling
the sentence. Dr. Perry was really much attached to his unruly pupil,
and his pupil had a very loyal feeling towards him, and was the means
once of saving his life. Sir Eric Barrington tells me the story, and
I feel I cannot do better than repeat it in his own words.
“Our Easter holidays were short and spent in expeditions to
Switzerland or the Tyrol. In the spring of 1866 Dr. Perry took six
of us to the latter. We were to walk across a pass with two guides,
carrying our knapsacks. We walked for ten hours with very little
food; the guides became exhausted and refused to go any further, but
Dr. Perry was determined to reach the village we were making for.
He misunderstood the directions of the guides and lost his way. We
boys were exhausted also by this time, so stopped at a small hay-hut,
where we resolved to stay the night. Dr. Perry went on in the dark,
and attempted to descend the mountain-side alone. Beresford became
uneasy about his safety, and went off to look for him. The rest of
us settled down and went to sleep, when we heard Beresford shouting
he had found Dr. Perry, but could not persuade him to return, as he
had sighted the lights of the village in the distance. Still uneasy,
Beresford started off again with a friend in the early hours of the
morning to look for Dr. Perry and see if all was well. After some
time he thought he heard a faint cry, and looking over the side of
the mountain descried the object of his search some way down sitting
astride an old tree stump, which had mercifully broken his fall, but
still in a most perilous position, and trying to keep himself awake
by digging his fingers into the decayed wood. From a cottage nearby,
Beresford managed to get a rope, but it proved too short, so he set
off for the village, where he found his companions and the guides had
arrived. Though feeling thoroughly tired out and done up, he insisted
on returning with the guides to show them where to find Dr. Perry,
and to help in the rescue. He was released with difficulty and after
some hard work.
“Dr. Perry always felt he owed his life to Beresford’s perseverance,
and on that account was disposed to show leniency when his high
spirits led him into mischief on future occasions.”
Bill’s main characteristics were courage and loyalty; it was
impossible not to be warmly attached to him.
It having been decided that the Army was to be the profession of
Lord Waterford’s third son, after leaving Dr. Perry, several other
tutors were requisitioned to put the necessary finishing touches to
his military education, after which he passed very creditably into
the Army at the age of twenty, joining that popular regiment, the 9th
Lancers, as a cornet in 1867.
They were a merry crowd in those days. Among Lord William’s boon
companions in the regiment were the present Lord Rossmore, otherwise
known as “Derry,” Captain Candy, “Sugar Candy,” Captain Clayton,
“Dick,” the present Colonel Stewart Mackenzie, “The Smiler,” General
Sir Hugh McCalmont, and the Hon. Charley Lascelles, who could do
such wonderful things with horses owing to his good hands and sweet
temper; and many more too numerous to mention, not a few of whom,
like Captain Candy, Captain Clayton, and Mr. Lascelles, have moved on
into another room, where their friends can no longer see them.
It is an interesting fact that all good sorts and popular men get
nicknames attached to them, it being a sign of their value and the
affection borne them by their comrades. Not often are selfish prigs
called by nicknames, possibly they may be known behind their backs
as “The Swine” or “The Prig,” or some other uncomplimentary epithet
which can only be used sub-rosa, for who could so address them to
their faces?
Among his friends, who were legion, Lord William was known as “Bill.”
His brother, Lord Charles Beresford, is always called “Charlie” in
the most affectionate way by even the crowd in the streets, who all
love him and look upon him as their own.
Those were grand happy days when Lord William first joined the 9th.
He and his young friends had the whole world before them, life and
health then being a matter of no consequence, no consideration, for
in the arrogance of youth who takes thought of the morrow? If only
when people are young they could be persuaded to take a practical
view of life and map out their days, not spending strength too
freely, or trying nerves too highly, but keeping a little in reserve,
something to draw upon. Uncontrolled spirits often lead to disaster
early in life. The Irish are especially buoyant and their mad spirits
infectious and lovable.
In later years Lord William often spoke of those early days,
referring in affection or admiration to many of his sporting
contemporaries, among whom were Mr. Garret Moore, who between ’67
and ’69 rode many winners in Ireland and elsewhere. (He died in
1908.) Roddy Owen, a great winner of races, especially in India and
Canada up to 1885, after which he surprised people at home a little
by winning the Grand National on Father O’Flynn in 1892, Sandown
Grand Prize two years running and, if I remember rightly, the Grand
Military on St. Cross. Poor “Roddy,” as everybody called him, died
in Egypt on active service in 1896, mourned and regretted by everyone
who knew him.
Colonel Meysey Thompson, who had known Captain Owen all his life,
wrote some charming lines “In Memoriam” when he died. I do not
remember them all, at any rate not correctly, but one verse I know
ran:
“May the date palm’s stately branches
Above thee gently wave;
May the mimosa’s scented wattles
Bedeck with gold thy grave.”
But as I am not writing Roddy Owen’s life I must hurry on, especially
as poking into the pigeon-holes of the past is apt to bring on fits
of the blues.
Captain Bay Middleton, another great friend, however, must not be
forgotten. He was fond of cricket as well as hunting and horses. A
member of the Zingari, Captained by Sir Gerard Leigh, and while in
Ireland they played the 9th Lancers. I do not remember who won, but
when the game was over Lord William, to amuse his friends, suggested
a run with the drag hounds, managing to find mounts for all; they
rode just as they were, in flannels. Needless to say the fun and
enjoyment were great.
It was delightful to hear these boon companions living over
again some of these times amidst happy laughter and friendly
recriminations, though perhaps sometimes tinged with regrets for the
days that were gone. Captain Middleton died in 1892, so another old
friend passed out of Lord William’s life. It was in April, I think,
when Captain Middleton was riding at quite a small fence (as is so
often the case), that his horse pecked, throwing its rider forward,
and, as almost invariably occurs when a horse is in trouble, threw
up its head, trying to recover itself, and in so doing broke Captain
Middleton’s neck. He was no doubt a great man on a horse, and as a
rule they went kindly with him, but I have seen him at times by no
means gentle with them, I am sorry to say, and not always when the
horse was to blame.
Another great friend I must not pass over was Captain Beasley, called
“Tommy” by Lord William, who rode in twelve Grand Nationals. I have
only mentioned a few of the names that recur to me; it would take
many volumes if I were to enumerate all his great friends, for few
men had so many.
At any rate the fun in those days was certainly fast and furious,
some of the practical jokes being distinctly drastic though
considered very amusing at the time. I doubt if in these days they
would be considered jokes at all. It does not follow that what was
considered funny and witty by one generation will be considered the
least amusing by the next, any more than what was true yesterday need
be true to-day, and often is not.
On one occasion when his friend, Captain McCalmont, was driving him
from Cahir Barracks to Clonmel, while passing through the town of
Cahir, Lord William asked if he would mind pulling up for him to do
some shopping. When he returned with his purchases they consisted
of a sack of potatoes; this was planted at his feet, and as they
continued their drive he amused himself by throwing potatoes at
everyone they met. Some smiled and seemed pleased with the delicate
attention and gift of potatoes, others, however, were not, therefore
a crowd soon gathered and embarked on reprisals. The potatoes were
coming to an end, but his blood being up, he purchased more and
continued the battle. As they proceeded along the ten miles to
Clonmel, news of the battle had evidently travelled ahead of them,
for in places they found people waiting for them armed with missiles,
including brickbats. It now became a question how they were to get
away themselves. However, the Irish understand one another, and all
the country was fond of the Beresfords, from whom they had received
many considerations and benefits. At that time, in the eyes of the
people, the Beresfords could do no wrong, so it ended, I am told,
quite happily. In the autumn of our days it seems a very long time
since we were so full of beans that we could do such mad things, the
result of animal spirits.
Lord William’s uncle, the third Marquis, has been called the “Mad
Marquis” owing to the extraordinary things he did, probably from
the same overflow of spirits from which Lord William suffered when
throwing potatoes at peaceful pedestrians on the road.
The so-called “Mad” Marquis certainly did some very astonishing
things, but purely, in my opinion, from devil-me-care fun and
spirits, for when married to the beautiful Louisa, daughter of Lord
Stuart de Rothsey, whom he passionately loved, he settled down after
sowing his wild oats, and became a model husband and landlord,
beloved by the whole countryside.
It appears to be rather fashionable to think everyone is mad whom
we do not understand, or even perhaps when they are superior to
ourselves in courage or intellect.
I leave it to my readers to decide if he earned the sobriquet, if
they think a man who was so exceedingly devoted and tender to his
wife, and so full of consideration for his countrymen, could be
rightly termed the “Mad Marquis.”
When he brought home his bride to Curraghmore, seeing a crowd of
country folk and tenants collected to greet them, he leaned over his
wife and lifted her veil so that all might admire, so great was his
pride in her.
Soon after their marriage, when driving his wife, one of the horses
became restive while descending a steep hill. The only thing to be
done to avoid a bad accident was to turn the horses into a hedge at
the side of the road. Lady Waterford tried to get out, and in so
doing fell, hurting her head, causing concussion of the brain. Her
devoted and alarmed husband carried his unconscious wife in his arms
down the hill, through the River Clode, back to the house, that being
the shortest way, so that she could be properly attended to more
quickly. For several days and nights he scarcely left her; it was
hardly possible to persuade him to come away even for food; and when
the doctor said all her beautiful hair, that he admired so much, must
be cut off, he would allow no hands to do it but his own.
[Illustration: CURRAGHMORE]
Like all the Beresfords, the third Marquis was handsome and
loved sport in every form, especially fox-hunting; he hunted the
Curraghmore entirely at his own expense. It was a sad day when his
mount, May-boy, made a mistake over a rotten wall, which put an end
to all his hunting.
It must have been from this uncle that Lord William inherited his
love for steeplechasing, for we hear of the Marquis in 1840, when
it was first becoming the fashion for gentlemen to ride in chases,
riding in the Grand National. He died in 1859 without any children,
and was succeeded by his brother, Lord William’s father, as fourth
Marquis.
In 1847 (the year Lord William was born) Lord and Lady Waterford
devoted most of their time and much money in endeavouring to relieve
the distress in Ireland caused by the famine. The Marquis imported
shiploads of wheat for the people, and Lady Waterford’s goodness was
so great that the House of Commons felt constrained to acknowledge it.
In return for this, these excitable people in the following year,
under the influence of agitators, became so rebellious to law, and
order and to their best friends, that Curraghmore had to be fortified
against them. The Fenians declared they would capture Lady Waterford
and carry her away to the hills.
This alarmed her husband so greatly that he took her to her mother,
in England, for safety, returning himself to Ireland to protect
the home he loved so dearly, and if possible save the people from
themselves.
To return to Lord William. The 9th Lancers were stationed at Island
Bridge Barracks, Dublin, when first he joined, which for an Irishman
was all that could be desired. Then on from Dublin to Cahir, which is
not very far from Waterford and Curraghmore; a troop of the 9th were
quartered at Waterford and half a troop at Carrick-on-Suir, close to
Curraghmore. For a time Lord William was with the Waterford troop,
and it was a curious turn of fortune’s wheel that brought H.M.S.
_Research_ to Waterford harbour at this time with Lord Charles as a
middy, or at any rate a very junior officer. Lord Marcus, in the 7th
Hussars, was also at home on leave, so the brothers were together and
there was a very happy gathering.
All the officers of the 9th and the _Research_ were constantly at
Curraghmore, where they were always sure of a welcome, many carrying
away with them into foreign lands an affectionate gratitude for Lady
Waterford, who had made a home for them all when in the neighbourhood.
[Illustration: 9TH LANCERS IN DUBLIN, 1867
_Back row, from left to right_: Lieut.-Surg. Longman, Riding Master
Crowdy, Capt. F. Gregory (A.D.C. to Lord Lieut. of Ireland), Capt.
Cave, Capt. Hardy, Lieut. Gaskell, Cornet Stewart-Mackenzie.
_Second row_: Cornet Willoughby, Cornet Lord Wm. Beresford, Paymaster
Mahon, Lieut.-Col. Johnson, Capt. Erskine, Lieut. Palairet, Lieut.
Green, Cornet Percy, Adj.; Quarter-Master Seggie, Major Rich in plain
clothes.]
The 9th Lancers had a pack of harriers when at Cahir, Lord William
acting as one of the whips. He had begun riding as a very small boy,
on a pony called The Mouse, which was shared by the three brothers,
each taking it in turn to ride. From this humble little mount he
was promoted to other ponies, on which he soon began to execute
little jumps, and ride about the country during the holidays. Before
many years had passed over his head he became a follower of the
Curraghmore hounds and other surrounding packs, often seeing more
of the fun on his pony than some of the field on famous horses,
partly owing to the plucky way he “shoved along” and to knowing the
country well, also partly to the happy way ponies have of turning
up unexpectedly and accomplishing wonderful feats by scrambling and
crawling along places where bigger horses cannot find foothold. The
old Curraghmore, now the Waterford, hunted a country of about
thirty miles from east to west, and twenty miles from north to south,
its boundaries being Tipperary, Kilkenny, and Wexford, and the sea
on the south. Having thus graduated in horsemanship, by the time he
joined the 9th he was known as a good man on a horse.
He naturally loved horses and dogs, and had many, being a good judge
of both. In consequence of the number of the latter he usually had
about him, Captain Fife, of the same regiment, when compiling an
alphabetical list of rhymes in connection with his brother officers,
on coming to the letter B, wrote:--
“‘B’ stands for Bill,
Many cur dogs are his,
Good-tempered but hasty,
And easily ris’”;
which, must be admitted, is a magnificent effort, even if it does not
scan very well.
Witnesses of the fun in those days say they can never forget the
delightful time when all the brothers were at home together. Each
a sportsman, each a wit, full of merriment and pranks, and all
especially delighted when Lord Charles danced a hornpipe for their
amusement. How Curraghmore must have ached for their voices when they
had, as the old song says, “all dispersed and wandered far away.”
It was when stationed at Cahir that Lord William began crumpling up
his bones owing to various tosses of sorts. At this time he owned
a very fast trotter, which could do sixteen miles an hour when
requested. He started one night with this fast trotter in a dogcart
to cover the three miles from the barracks to the station, taking an
English guest with him to catch the 10.30 train for Dublin. The road
was very dark and overshadowed by the trees of Cahir Abbey Park. Sir
Hugh McCalmont (then Captain McCalmont), a brother officer already
mentioned, was likewise performing the same journey bound for Dublin;
both started at the same time. Lord William set the pace, and was
soon out of sight and hearing. Added to the darkness, it was pouring
with rain. After journeying some little way Captain McCalmont was
held up by cries issuing from the gloom. Someone was shouting. He
pulled up in time to find his friend with his guest, his fast trotter
and some dogcart about the road. Lord William in his haste, combined
with the darkness, had driven at top speed into a cart, somewhat
to the surprise of the driver. The cart also looked as if taken by
surprise, in places. Having satisfied himself that no one was killed,
though all were more or less damaged, Captain McCalmont continued
with his “crawler,” as he called it, to the station and caught his
train, which is more than the fast trotting party did.
Trifles of this kind, however, never worried Lord William, for his
spirits were unquenchable.
One of the fastest runs with hounds he could remember, in those days
of scanty judgment, was when out with the Curraghmore hounds in the
northern part of the country. The fences were not very big, but the
pace was great. Lord William and Captain McCalmont were riding a
bit jealous, I think; after racing for about twenty minutes, they
both tried to fly a bank, with the natural result when jumping blown
horses. Captain McCalmont’s gallant little mare did not get up for
some time; she wisely lay still to recover her wind, but Lord William
had been so struck by her performance that he shouted, “I will buy
her”--and he did. But horses when asked to do too much, sometimes
break their hearts, and the mare was never quite the same again.
Whenever sport was to be knocked out of anyone or anything Lord
William was sure to be there. Nothing came amiss to him, fisticuffs,
American cock-fighting, hunting, racing, polo, the latter only just
becoming popular in England.
It was about this time that he came into his share of the family
fortune. He considered it so inadequate to his needs, that he decided
to spend the capital as interest. This is how he described it to me
one evening, years later, in the grounds of the Taj at Agra.
“So inadequate to my needs was the interest on my share, that I
decided to use my capital as income so long as it would last, and
rearrange my life again when it came to an end. I started a coach, a
stud of hunters, some racehorses, and laid myself out for a real good
time. I managed to hold on until just before the regiment was ordered
to India. Then, as the fateful day drew near, I thought I would have
one final flutter at the Raleigh Club. A turn up of three cards at
£1000 a card! I won the lot, was able to pay up all I owed and clear
out to India, cleaned out, but a free man as to debt.”
I do not feel I am betraying any confidence, as he told the story
to several people, and really it is an amazing example of what
pluck and daring, combined with determination, can do. A lesson in
resource and audacity that a young subaltern should arrive in India
a penniless soldier, and yet reach the height of social and official
fame combined with pecuniary comfort, as he did, in a few years. To
sit down with premeditation and map out such a wild scheme, and then
be able to bring it off and win the odd trick, was rather wonderful.
Possibly what he suffered during those years when he was riding for
a fall made him reckless, risking his life more frequently than he
otherwise would have done, thinking it was bound to be a short and
merry one, so what matter? Or, like others I have known when riding
for a fall, would not give himself time to think.
Some of the extraordinarily kind things I have known him do for young
men when in financial difficulties, though not overburdened with
cash himself at the time, leads me to the belief that he remembered
his feelings when the crash of his own arranging was drawing near,
assisted perhaps by a little luck, which saved him.
Considering that he was not a rich man, it was wonderful how lavish
was his unselfish and large-hearted generosity. I verily believe no
living soul ever went to him in trouble and was sent “empty away.”
Yet he could never bear his left hand to know what his right hand
was doing. It really ruffled him if he ever heard of it again.
Nevertheless, some of those near his left hand did know what his
right was doing, more often perhaps than he guessed.
Having explained the rather important financial position at this
time, we can return to the daily happenings, able to see some reason
in much that would otherwise seem of little consequence, but which
meant a good deal to Lord William, we can also admire more sincerely
the brain that evolved the scheme and carried it out.
Some will no doubt think, and possibly say, that the affection we all
had for Lord William has made me picture a faultless man; this is, of
course, not so, and it is not difficult to recognise his failings,
which he shared in common with the rest of mankind, but I do claim
for him that they were none of them mean, little, or contemptible,
and we do not always like people less on account of their faults.
Generosity may be called foolishness: pluck, foolhardiness: morals,
not such as would be considered a proper rudimentary system for
teaching in elementary schools: but if, after all that has been said,
a man can count hundreds of deeply attached friends, and not one can
say he ever did a dishonourable action, or willingly hurt another’s
feelings, I claim that man is great.
Lord William was an admirer of beauty and good taste; add to this, as
the cookery books say, his particularly charming manner, that would
woo the birds off the trees, and his good looks, it is small wonder
he was much loved by the fair sex.