THE 73RD REGIMENT AT MARYHILL BARRACKS—INCIDENTS OF HOME LIFE—MILITARY LIFE AT YORK—APPOINTMENT TO SOUDAN CAMPAIGN.
In the autumn of 1892 Colonel Wauchope's residence in Limerick came to a close on his appointment to the command of the 73rd Perthshire Regiment, or the 2nd Battalion of the Black Watch, then stationed at Maryhill Barracks, Glasgow. This well-earned promotion to a position he had long aspired to occupy enabled him to be more frequently at Niddrie than formerly. During the twenty-seven years he had been connected with the Black Watch, he had risen slowly but steadily from the rank of subaltern through the various intermediate stages to the first position, by dint of persevering effort and close application to his military duties. He was by no means a dilettante officer. He loved his profession, and he made it his life work, while the enthusiasm with which he was inspired he imparted to those around him. We find this exemplified in a speech made at a large gathering of the old members of the 42nd held in the Trades Hall, Glasgow, on the 17th September, where he presided. Many of those present had been with him through the Ashanti and Soudan campaigns, as well as in Cyprus, Malta, and Gibraltar, and in referring to former times he recalled their relationship with no little satisfaction. He felt, he said, as if he was back at Aldershot under his dear old colonel, now Sir John M'Leod, and once more an ensign, and the adjutant of the 42nd. But let them not forget their comrades of the 73rd regiment. Almost since the beginning of the century, the 73rd had been part and parcel of the 42nd, having been indeed the second battalion of the regiment. That alliance had been a happy one. Personally he had now served the second battalion for eighteen months, and it had been to him a period of great pleasure in his duties. That which bound them together and gave them so much in common was the glorious traditions of the 42nd. Their hearts warmed to each other and the old regiment as they thought of Waterloo and Quatre Bras. But it was not only traditions they had. He saw men before him who had fought in a European theatre of war, and who had taken part in the great battle of the Alma, of which they were now celebrating the anniversary. He had spent twenty-seven years in the old regiment, and the longer he was in it the better he loved it. In concluding an eloquent address, he said: 'The 42nd stood high in the esteem of the Scottish people, for there was no regiment that Scotland loved more than the "Auld Forty-twa," and well they might. By sea and by land, at home and abroad, the 42nd had fought and always deserved well of its country. Our old regiment has become renowned chiefly, I believe, because of the strict and stern yet good discipline exercised by such commanders as Sir Daniel Cameron, Sir John M'Leod, and others. These men had always stood up for discipline, and it was discipline that brought the soldier comfort, whilst it was the reverse that brought disorder and crime, and everything that was disagreeable.'
'Right-about wheel!'
The Colonel was not, however, always so successful as a speaker. An amusing incident is told of him when in command at Maryhill Barracks which shows that an eloquent man may not always have command of his tongue. One morning on parade he purposed giving the men an address, and from the demeanour of their colonel the men anticipated something eloquent. The genial Andrew, however, had only got the length of 'Men of the gallant 42nd,' when his tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of his mouth. Thrice did he make the attempt, and thrice did he fail to make progress, until, exasperated with himself, he suddenly exclaimed, to the astonishment of the regiment—'Men of the gallant 42nd, right-about wheel!'
But while the Colonel was strong in politics and diligent in the discharge of barrack duties, he did not forget his old ancestral home at Niddrie. It was never his lot to make anything like a permanent residence at Niddrie House, but so long as he was stationed either at Maryhill or afterwards in Edinburgh Castle he embraced every opportunity of making short visits home; and when home he never failed to interest himself in the welfare of all in the neighbourhood. In the spring of 1893, being then in command in Edinburgh Castle, he had more frequent opportunities of being among 'his ain folk,' and taking a more active interest in their welfare than was formerly possible. It is with almost a smile we read of his being at home at that time, and attending a meeting mostly composed of miners and labourers in the Niddrie School, to present prizes to the members of the local Bowling Club, in whose success he took a lively interest. A social meeting held after this ceremony was heartily enjoyed by all present, the Colonel entering freely into the spirit of the occasion, making himself the gayest of the gay and 'everybody's body,' among men, women, and children. As one has well said, 'he had a magnetism about him which not only made him the friend of all, but made all his friends.'
It will be long before the people of Niddrie and New Craighall villages forget his kindness to them. One and all while he lived regarded him with pride, affection, and gratitude. Nor is this to be wondered at, for he held their loyalty and friendship by simple and unaffected acts of kindness and helpfulness, never making them feel that his friendship was an act of condescension, but rather the outcome of a warm heart and a generous nature. Their acknowledgment of his services when occasion arose was always spontaneous and sincere.
This was strikingly exemplified on the occasion of Colonel Wauchope's marriage in 1893 to Miss Jean Muir, the daughter of the venerable Principal of Edinburgh University. On the Saturday previous, the villagers and others turned out in full force, and by their gifts as well as by their presence showed how gratified they were with the lady of his choice, and how their good wishes went out towards them both. Two bands headed the procession to the mansion-house, and when the lawn was reached the Colonel was presented in name of them all with a silver punch-bowl, on a polished cannel-coal stand taken from the Niddrie coal-pits. The presents from the school children, the tenants on the estate, and other incidents of the day testified unmistakably in the same way to the cordial relations subsisting between the laird and his neighbours and dependants.
'A better man never lived' was the terse estimate of one of the villagers when speaking of him lately, and the echo of it will long keep his memory green.