THE DRILL-SERGEANT’S DISMISSAL
When the Volunteers reached home there was the inevitable reaction—the “review” men had “a drink at t’heead on ’t,” and another, and another; and for two or three days they were to be seen straggling about the streets. There was one disagreeable incident that occurred to mar the pleasant termination of the review, locally considered. That was the dismissal of Drill-sergeant Chick from the regiment at the instance of Captain Leper, who was the adjutant for the Bradford and Keighley divisional corps. The drill-sergeant’s offence consisted, it appeared, in “speaking when not spoken to.” I have previously made mention that the Keighley corps were complimented by the commanding officer for their march past and volley-firing. When making his remarks, General McMurdock wanted to know the name of the corps. Captain Leper (a Bradfordian) replied, “Bradford, sir.” Sergeant Chick, in his enthusiasm, and knowing that they were his own men who were alluded to, shouted, “No, sir; it’s Keighley.” This “flagrant misconduct” on the part of a subordinate incensed Captain Leper—this was seen by the “wicked” impression on the captain’s face—who was not long in telling poor Chick that he had been dismissed the regiment. This was a hard blow to the drill-sergeant, who had drilled his men so that they marched as one man; but, to Captain Leper’s credit, let it be said that he subsequently endeavoured to get Sergeant Chick re-instated. The dismissal, however had gone through the oracle of the Horse Guards, and to withdraw was impossible. Captain Leper then found employment for him at Bradford in looking after the orderly-room, &c., and with his remuneration from this source, and a small army pension, the ex-drill-sergeant managed to live in comparative comfort.
A DRILLING INCIDENT
Volunteering at Keighley went on in its own quiet and peaceful way. I might, perhaps, mention one incident which took place while the Keighley companies were drilling in the old Showfield one Saturday afternoon. Lieutenant (or Ensign, I forget which for the moment) Joseph Craven, of Steeton, was in charge of a squad of us. Now, Mr Craven was somewhat corpulent—there was no mistake about that, and marching about under a hot sun was clearly not accomplished without great exertion and copious perspiration. The members of the squad soon comprehended the position in which their drill-master was, and they determined to give him “quick march.” When he gave the order “Quick march!” from the front, the “boys” did march to some tune. Their commander soon found it necessary to step from the front, and he was left a good distance behind. But he soon discovered their little “game,” and proved himself “quite up to their trick.” By calling out “halt” at intervals, he found himself able to keep up fairly well with the men. In his next drills he was considerately allowed by Captain Busfeild Ferrand to go about on horseback. Mr Craven was known among us as a very genial and sociable officer, and he enjoyed the respect and esteem of those under him. There were circumstances, however, which caused his retirement from the Volunteer corps, after a comparatively short service.
CHAPTER XIV
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.