Our orders are for Weedon, a small town in Northamptonshire, on the River Nene. In three days we were to embark on board a steamer for London, thence by rail. We were all rather sorry for leaving the present station, although soldiers always like fresh scenery, and always play, when they leave, "The Girl I left Behind Me."
We embarked on the 18th of May, accompanied by the band, pipes, and several men, of the 72nd Highlanders to the wharf, the band playing "Auld Lang Syne" as our steamer moved off from the dock, the men cheering and waving their handkerchiefs, which we responded to in a most friendly manner. We were all very happy, though we were rather closely packed together—a circumstance generally considered dangerous to a good fellowship. The vessel was a small one, and being of rather ancient build did not boast all those conveniences that the new steamers possess. The voyage was a short one; the river being very smooth; the trip was pleasant, although it was somewhat inconvenient for the women and children, who were huddled up very close together. We were lucky that the weather was so fine, therefore we had not the unpleasantness of sea sickness.
As we neared London, steamers and vessels of nearly every size became more numerous; and the buzz of industry from the shore, with the whistling of small steamers, the splashing of wheels, the clouds of smoke, impressed us with the wondrous amount of traffic carried on through this mighty highway of commerce.
We reached Blackwall at one o'clock, and marched to Euston Station, the women and children being sent in cabs, where we took the train at three p.m., arriving at Weedon at 5 p.m., marched into barracks and joined head-quarters which had been there before us. About this time Colonel Styte got command of the regiment, an old Waterloo officer of great skill in military details. The Town of Weedon, which is situated in the centre of a wide and rich valley in one of the most beautiful counties in England, was declared by all our soldiers, without one dissentient voice, to be an exceedingly dull, stupid place. Not having much duty to perform in this quiet garrison, we were kept continually at drill; in the evenings the men had nothing to occupy their spare time except to assemble in the public houses or canteen, and on Sunday, after church, to walk out of town to a certain country tavern where they unfortunately used to indulge in drinking and carousing. In the days in which I write, those who entertained the idea of educating soldiers were laughed at as visionary enthusiasts, whose schemes, if put into practice, would entirely ruin and destroy the military spirit of the army; and few there were among the commanding officers of regiments who possessed moral courage enough to combat the general opinion, even if they differed from the principle. Colonel Styte, however, the lieutenant-colonel of the 17th regiment of "Royal Tigers," was happily endowed with moral courage in equal degree with his gallantry in the field, which secured for him his present high position, and an honesty of mind and purpose he possessed that was not usual with officers of his time. He had received a wound at the Battle of Waterloo in his right arm, which entirely disabled it, and it hung down by his side quite powerless. Not being able to draw his sword, we had great sympathy for him, which he appreciated very much. He had established an evening school for the drummer boys of the regiment, and for such of the non-commissioned officers and privates as chose to avail themselves of its advantage. The colonel and a few of his brother officers raised a subscription in order to provide the necessary books, and a school was established and well attended, with most excellent results—valued by many of the best disposed non-commissioned officers and men, and worked exceedingly well. Regarding the drummer boys, their attendance was compulsory. The teacher was a very gentlemanly, able man, and imparted his instructions in a very painstaking manner, which caused many of the young soldiers to attend his school willingly, and try to advance themselves by his instructions.
Nothing in the regiment gave me more pleasure than attending, and the progress I made during our term served to advance my prospects of promotion in after years, which I most gratefully remember.
We were stationed in this quiet town for three months when we got orders to proceed to Castlebar, a town in the west of Ireland, and about one hundred and sixty miles from Dublin.
[1] The Albert Memorial, Hyde Park, has been erected since.
