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 manœuvres 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, and performances on two other nights brought the sum up to £40. It was not long before we had raised £80 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.