Chapter Eleven.
Outbreak to Charlton Fair.
Towards the middle of my second half-year two very stirring events occurred at the Academy, in each of which I played a subordinate part. The singular experiences I had in these two affairs are worthy of being recorded.
In the neighbourhood of Woolwich is a small village, called Charlton, which at that time was a thoroughly rural place. An old blacksmith’s forge stood in the middle of the village, and two old-fashioned-looking inns. At the entrance of this village was a field, termed “The Fair-Field,” where a large fair was annually held. This fair was termed “Horn Fair,” and was one of the sights of the time.
Fairs have now degenerated, and have lost their glory; but thirty years ago Horn Fair day was a kind of Derby day, at which all the élite of the neighbourhood were to be seen from about two till five on one particular day out of the three that the fair lasted.
From the entrance to the fair to the branch roads, where the cemetery is now situated, the carriages used to stand two deep during the time their occupiers strolled about the fair. Since those days, however, the railway has given such facility for the East-end of London to send down its unwashed hundreds, that first the fair was deserted by the ladies of the neighbourhood, next by the gentlemen, and finally was done away with as being detrimental to the neighbourhood.
During the three days that the fair lasted the cadet company were confined to the enclosure, and were not allowed to visit the village of Charlton. Such a restriction was ordered on account of a row which some years previously had occurred between the cadets and some of the fair people; but it was very obnoxious to the old cadets, and particularly to one who had been reduced from the rank of corporal to that of cadet. This individual had a great deal of influence among the seniors, and on the morning of the second day of the fair he paid a visit to the majority of the rooms, in order to ventilate his ideas and organise a plan he had in his mind for the evening.
The cadet, who was named Prosser, came to our room to see Forester, and said, “Don’t you think it’s an awful shame to confine us to barracks like a set of schoolboys, instead of trusting us to go to the fair? I want your opinion about it, Forester.”
“Well,” replied Forester, “I think it’s bad taste, and a mistake, for it seems to say, ‘If you go to the fair you will get into a row,’ but I don’t see what’s the use of complaining.”
“I’ll tell you what the use is,” said Prosser. “I’ve got a lot of fellows who are game to fall in after tea, and go straight away to the fair—that is, if every one will go. You see, if everybody goes, they can’t break a few fellows only, and they can’t pitch into everybody, and I believe they will see it won’t do to shut us up like sheep, but that we shall get more liberty.”
“I won’t join,” said Forester, “if I can help it, and I think it’s not the right way to go to work to remedy a grievance.”
During that afternoon a paper was passed round the Academy, saying that the whole of the first and second class would fall in on the centre parade at half-past eight, and double off to the fair, and the third and fourth class were to fall in at the same hour and place. This came as a kind of order from the old cadets, and we all signed our names as willing to agree to go.
Everything was kept very quiet during the afternoon, for fear the authorities might hear of the plot, and at half-past eight every cadet fell in quietly on the grass inside the Academy, and, the words of command being whispered from file to file, we broke into a double, and ran across the common towards Charlton.
There were present on that occasion every cadet except the eight corporals on duty, who thought they were bound in honour not to leave their posts. This was a sort of compromise with duty, for these eight corporals were perfectly aware that the breakout of barracks was going to be attempted, and had they done their duty they would have reported this, and put a stop at once to the affair; but the moral courage to do so was wanting. Still, none of these cadets liked to leave their posts—an indication of the right feeling that prevailed at that time in many things at the Academy, and at the same time a proof of the inconsistency in the ideas of the cadets.
Forester declined to join the “mutiny,” as it might be termed, on principle, but he left Fenton and myself to do as we liked, and we both went.
The “Cadet Company,” as I might term it, having got well clear of the Academy and across the common, came to a quick march, and the word was then passed down the ranks as to our proceedings at the fair. On nearing the fair we were to form four deep and double through the fair. We were then to enter one of the large dancing-booths, and clear it of its occupants, and finally to “pitch into” any persons who opposed us.
Under the influence of the excitement and companionship of the senior cadets, I thought the proceeding a brilliant one. The effect of charging through the fair would be grand, something like a real battle, and the people of the fair would see what a fine set of daring fellows the cadets were. With such ideas I approached the fair-field, little dreaming that three days would not elapse before I had come to the conclusion that a more foolish, stupid, and ridiculous proceeding could not have been proposed or carried out than this one, and that even the most enthusiastic of the party would admit that it was a contemptible and childish display.
Most rows or street fights, when looked upon calmly, may be classed under the same head. They arise usually from the combatitive stupidity of some individual or individuals who want excitement, or who imagine that they will exhibit their powers before an admiring audience during some fight in which they may be engaged. Two of the original promoters of the raid to the fair were the two biggest and most powerful cadets at the Academy, and were tolerably sure to hold their own in any row that might take place. For us smaller bodies the prospect was not so promising.
On nearing the entrance-gate we formed closely in fours, and at a double charged down between the booths. Men, women, and children were knocked over right and left, and sent sprawling on the ground, whilst we were saluted with stones, sticks, and other weapons seized impromptu by the indignant public.
Having made our way down the fair we entered the largest dancing-booth, which was immediately deserted by the occupants. Seizing the chairs, a few of these were smashed, and shots were then taken at the many-coloured oil-lamps, the majority of which were knocked down, but not broken. There was then a shout to extinguish all the lamps in the fair, whilst one or two of the most reckless cadets shouted, “Turn out the menagerie!”
By this time, however, there was an organised ’stance to us. The sticks used for knock-’em-downs were seized by a number of men, who commenced using these very freely, and we were soon compelled to retreat, which we did in tolerably good order; not, however, without those in rear receiving some very heavy blows.
At the Academy matters had not been idle. The cadets having left the Academy, there was a silence that, to the experienced ears of the officer on duty, at once indicated that something was up. Coming out of his quarters he found the divisions deserted, and, on entering the library, found the corporal on duty, who informed him the cadets had left the enclosure. The assembly was immediately sounded, and was obeyed only by the corporals on duty and two cadets who were ill, having just left hospital. Taking with him the corporals on duty the officer at once started for the fair, giving orders that each cadet seen was at once to be placed in arrest. Now, as a cadet was bound in honour to obey an arrest, this plan would have been effective for sending home the company. When, however, the officer was within a hundred yards of the fair-field he met the cadets returning, and at once ordered the whole of them in arrest to their rooms.
For many hundred yards from the fair we were followed by a rabble, which delighted in pelting us with various missiles and abusing us, as they now could do with impunity.
On reaching the enclosure we all went to our rooms, relating our individual experiences, escapes, and performances.
One cadet had exchanged blows with a supposed prizefighter, and had held his own; another had knocked down a burly rough who was just going to smash the head of a cadet with a life-preserver. This cadet had tripped up a Peeler who was trying to collar a cadet; that cadet had rescued a snooker who was actually in the grasp of two roughs. The feats performed were really marvellous—at least in their accounts—and for that night we were well pleased with ourselves.
Forester listened to Fenton’s account of the affair, and put a few questions, and then pronounced his verdict, that we had all made a set of fools of ourselves, and that probably the company would be decimated, every tenth cadet being discharged.
During the next two or three days there were endless speculations as to what would be the punishment given us for our conduct, and as the excitement of the affair wore off, the corporals and seniors began to get anxious for their prospects, for it was feared a severe example would be made of at least the corporals and under-officers who had gone to the fair. The whole company was confined to barracks, and could not therefore go beyond the “Ha-ha” so that groups of twenty or thirty cadets used to assemble every day and walk about arm-in-arm discussing the proceedings at the fair, and the probable results.
About ten days after the breaking out the whole company was assembled on parade, and the decision of the Master-General made known. It was to the effect that every under-officer and corporal present at the fair was to be reduced to the rank of a cadet, all leave stopped till the end of the half, and the question left open whether or not the commission of these should be delayed six months. By many this punishment was considered slight, for they had expected to be rusticated, and to lose, consequently, a term; so that, as soon as the order had been read out, there was a subdued murmur of satisfaction among those who had been the ringleaders of the affair, and whose position as the seniors rendered them responsible.
This history of the life of a Woolwich cadet is intended to be a relation of the events that occurred some thirty odd years ago, and to be described as those events presented themselves to the mind of a cadet at that time. To mix up with these relations of incidents anything formal or serious would be to a certain extent out of place. This work is not intended as instructive, or as even suggestive; still, if in it some mention were not made of a most important problem connected with military educational establishments, it certainly would lack one feature, without which it would be destitute of what may be termed “backbone.” The problem to which we refer is the discipline necessary in any military educational establishment.
When we consider that a large military establishment devoted to educational purposes, such as that of Woolwich, turns out probably eighty officers per year; that these officers become our future captains, colonels, and generals; that to them are entrusted commands over hundreds and thousands of men according as they rise in rank; that on service the very lives even of men are entrusted to their keeping; that at all times the prospects and happiness, comfort and welfare of the men under their commands are in their hands, it is at once evident how great is their responsibility, and how serious become the every-day duties and acts of an officer.
In civil life a citizen, unless occupying a public position, has the responsibility only of his own family. He has to do his duty by probably half-a-dozen children, to educate and teach these, and to see them started in life. The officer has on his shoulders the responsibility of a soldier and an officer added to that of his duties as a citizen. He has to instruct, guide, and punish the soldier. He is a despot in a way; his word is law, and the prospects of a man may be ruined or made by an officer. Such being the condition of a soldier’s life, it is of importance that the early career of an officer—the period of his life when he receives impressions which he never forgets—should be under the most careful and thoughtful discipline. The impressions received in our youth are never entirely forgotten; and though individuality of character may force itself prominently forward through a covering of education, still such instances are invariably tinged by education and training. Thus, the discipline and teaching of cadets becomes a matter of the gravest importance when we value the effects thereof on an army. The character and conduct of an officer make themselves felt in a regiment, and even beyond the mere limits of a regiment, for the effects of influence are untold. Man is to a great extent an imitative animal, and when young he is much disposed to be a mere follower of others. He has his tastes, his likes and dislikes; but these are in the generality of cases due more to example than to any natural tendency in the individual to a particular line of pursuits. The importance, then, of instilling into the cadet those principles which are necessary to make the army a safe one cannot be overlooked; and we will therefore refer to the conditions prevailing at the time we write of, and compare them with those now in force at the same institution.
In former times a cadet could be punished by a corporal to the extent of a day’s arrest to his room, which entailed turning out to morning drill. If the corporal chose, he might order a cadet out to drill merely, without placing him in arrest. This punishment was given usually on account of unsteadiness in the ranks or in the class-rooms, for not being brushed clean on parade, or for any minor offence, according to the fancy of the corporal. This gave enormous powers to the corporals, and was one of the great strongholds of the fagging and bullying systems. A cadet’s life might be made a burthen to him by his being placed in arrest day after day offences which were “trumped-up” by a corporal. Two drills daring a week stopped a cadet’s leave, and if this occurred he of course had to remain at the Academy during Saturday and Sunday. Instances have taken place where a young cadet committed some offence against the then well-established but unwritten laws of fagging, and thus drew down on himself the odium of the old cadets, who agreed on every possible occasion to place this cadet in arrest. There was no difficulty about carrying out this persecution. A corporal on duty in the class-rooms was absolute; he could place any cadet in arrest for talking, for leaving his desk, for looking round, for making a noise, etc, etc, and one or other of these offences could without difficulty be fixed on any particular individual. It was not till near the end of the half-year that it was discovered that one particular cadet had been placed in arrest by corporals on duty on an average four times a week from the commencement of the half-year. For graver offences than those usually punished by the cadets holding the rank of corporal, the sentence might be arrest from three to seven days, confinement to the enclosure for any length of time, stoppage of leave, twenty-four or forty-eight hours in the “black hole,” as it was termed—a dark room, similar to a modern prison cell—rustication for a term, discharge from the Academy, or dismissal. The latter sentence was given only in very bad cases, as the cadet’s name was then registered, and he could never enter the army.
There was one cadet selected by the Governor as a senior under-officer. To him was entrusted the command of the cadets when no officer was present, and he was a sort of “go-between,” a kind of bat among men, a link between the officers and the cadets, to whom considerable responsibility attached. This senior under-officer was not necessarily the senior in the class. He was taken by selection, and sometimes great mistakes were made in taking an indifferent man when a better was available. This is, of course, the risk in all cases of selection, even when authorities are most anxious to be just, and to select the best man. If, however, so disastrous an element as favouritism should ever in the future creep into the army, and should thrive and prevail under the cloak of selecting men by merit, it will be more disastrous to discipline, more ruinous to the tenacity, as we may term it, of the army, than all the bribery or corruption that the most subtle enemy could bring to bear on the weak or vacillating. To be superseded in any way is, of course, annoying to every man. When it was money that enabled one man to go over the head of another, the supersession was accounted for. It was unpleasant, but the one man possessing money where the other did not was to a certain extent acceptable. If, however, a man, whom we feel to be our inferior, and whom our comrades know to be inferior, is selected, and placed over our head, and we are told that he is so elevated because he is a more clever man and a better soldier than we are, the selection by merit becomes one of the most dangerous and offensive elements in an army.
An amusing case of selection by supposed merit once came under my notice when a cadet. There was one prize which was given according to the judgment of the Instructor, and not by the result of any examination. It was a supposed selection by merit. There was a cadet whom we will term A, who was well acquainted with the subject for which the prize was given previous to his joining the Academy. Another cadet, B, knew nothing about this subject, and found great difficulty in working it. A and B were friends, so they worked together—that is, A did the work, and B copied from him. At the end of the term the Instructor, who was supposed to have daily seen each cadet’s work, examined the whole, and allotted the prize to B, and omitted all notice of A. Strange to say, some years afterwards, B was appointed to a lucrative post in consequence of having been distinguished as a cadet for his knowledge of the subject for which the prize was given, whilst A remained unknown and unrecognised, but soured and disgusted by an injustice which it was impossible to remedy without exposing his friend, and certainly damaging him.
The senior under-officer, however, in those days was selected, and was given considerable influence in consequence of his position. It was therefore considered a matter of great importance to be selected as the senior, and to have such a position of responsibility entrusted to one.
Corporals were selected from amongst the cadets almost entirely in consequence of their position in the Academy—in fact, by seniority. If the conduct of a cadet had been bad, he was passed over; but such passing over was considered very severe, and was seldom done.
The principal punisher of the cadets was the Captain of the Cadet Company, who investigated and tried cases that occurred during any part of the time that cadets were not in study. If any cadet committed a very grave offence he was then brought before the Governor, and received the heaviest punishment. For offences committed in academy, or during hours of study, cadets were amenable to two other authorities, viz, the Inspector and Assistant-Inspector, who used to visit the class-rooms each day, and see that all was going on as it should go.
There was in this system the great defect that the cadets were under several authorities, and not under one head, while the system of entrusting to corporals the power to inflict punishment on their juniors, without inquiry or without comment, opened the door to a system of tyranny that was too often practised with the worst effects.
Another drawback at that time was the great age of the majority of the professors and senior officers. To deal with young, energetic men, such as the greater number of the senior cadets were, required active and energetic men with judgment and discernment, and thus appointments to posts such as those referred to should not have been allotted merely as quiet sinecures, but should have been given to men capable of real work.
In such a Military College as Woolwich a strict discipline is absolutely necessary. The first lesson to teach a soldier is the importance of subordination and obedience. These essentials, it is true, were taught formerly, but there was too often favouritism shown, which made the cadets feel that the scales of justice were often unfairly weighted. To once allow any sign of a want of proper respect for authority to pass over with a light punishment is to sow the seeds of a most dangerous condition. Another necessary item in the training of the cadet is to instil into him a high sense of honour; to teach him that there are certain things which his position as a soldier renders it impossible for him to do without disgrace. At the Academy there seems to have ever been this conscientious feeling, even at times when the discipline and general tone of the establishment was not what it is now. A cadet who was placed in arrest was bound on honour not to break this arrest, and it was often amusing to see two or three cadets in different rooms with their doors open talking to one another and leaning out of the doorways just so far that their centre of gravity was within the room. If one cadet added “honour” to any statement he might make to another, it was always considered certain that this was true.
Considering that the course of education at the Academy rarely occupied more than three years, and that many cadets had their characters entirely formed whilst they were at the “shop,” it is evident that too much importance cannot be given to the training bestowed during this period. A military training college which is not maintained with the strictest discipline becomes a mere pandemonium, where young men soon endeavour to rival one another in acts of folly, and from which men are turned out unfit for command or for the service.
The defects formerly existing at Woolwich have been remedied; the almost irresponsible authority of the older cadets over the juniors does not now exist. The professors, instead of being octogenarians, are men in the prime of life, and are given the authority over the cadets which their position entitles them to; and the result is that with an active, intelligent, and distinguished soldier at the head, the Royal Military Academy at the present time may be fairly claimed as a model establishment.