What could I do to pacify this kind lady, whose husband was my dearest friend? I was in a dreadful quandary. A bright idea came to the anxious wife.
‘Oh, Captain Maxwell, will you hold the man on to the box?’
So I let down the front window, and with considerable difficulty got hold of some part of the horrid man’s dress, and so pretended to keep him steady. The tipsy wretch made a horrible lurch, and, giving his master a poke in the ribs, said, in a tone half jovial, half sad,
‘Meejor, the missus is pulling my tail!’
We left the Isle of Wight, and, after being quartered for some months at Portsmouth, proceeded to join the camp at Chobham. How much we enjoyed that bloodless campaign, and how absurdly proud of ourselves we all were! The Connaught Rangers were composed of as fine a body of men as could be mustered anywhere, well seasoned soldiers, full of loyalty to the Queen, and imbued with a thorough knowledge of their duties, which it takes many years to learn, and thus enable a private to become a good non-commissioned officer. In two years from that time how few remained alive! Most of them repose in death on the heights of Sebastopol, where the wild flowers cover their honoured graves. But Chobham was the first camp which had been formed for many years, and we all enjoyed it very much. It was amusing to watch the curiosity displayed by civilians. I have often seen visitors to the camp walk through our mess-kitchen, and horrify our cook by taking the lids off some of his most cherished pots to see what we were to have for dinner.
I remember one day, after a long field-day in the warm sun, going to my tent, throwing myself into an arm-chair, and very nearly falling asleep, when I heard a whispering going on at the entrance, which was gently opened, when a pretty face peeped in, and I heard the remark made, ‘He is asleep,’ but, like the celebrated weasel, I had an eye open. One peculiar feature of Chobham at that time was, that friends who had previously ignored one’s existence all of a sudden became greatly interested in our welfare, especially about luncheon time. The camp at Chobham was the first opportunity many of us had of seeing regiments combined together in brigades and divisions. It was a grand picnic, and was the melodious overture to the great tragedy of the Crimean War.
We were visited by royal personages, by soldiers, sailors, lawyers, and clergymen. The celebrated Dr. Cumming once addressed the men. I remember some of his remarks:
‘I am a man of peace, but, if anyone tried to knock me down, I would do all I could to floor him first.’
The chaplain-general preached a sermon. He said,
‘The last time he had seen such a gathering of soldiers, he himself had taken an active part, for he was then an officer under Wellington.’