No. 6 CORPS. HEAD QUARTERS, MAIDEN BRADLEY.
This company was differently circumstanced from any in the battalion. It was raised from among the tenants of the Duke of Somerset, and was composed of men of a good position socially, and, as a rule, of means. The duke's eldest son, Earl St. Maur, originated and commanded it, taking as a model the system of the Irregular Cavalry of India; but Irregular Cavalry, whether in England or India, are expensive articles, and if to be permanent, beyond plenty of spare time and enthusiasm in all connected therewith, require either Government support or a long private purse for dipping into. So long as the war-fever lasted, the tenant farmers found time and means to assemble at the head quarters and learn the supposed duties of mounted infantry, for that was what the corps were in reality; but the game was getting expensive, the French would not come, the men were not quite so keen as formerly, and farming was more profitable, so attendances and numbers fell off, and gradually the cavalry element disappeared, leaving a nondescript infantry, possessing a system, a dress, and even a drill, peculiarly their own.
The account of the origin and final extinction of this fine corps will be given almost verbatim, as furnished to the writer of this battalion history by Mr. Styles Jefferys, one of the duke's tenants, this gentleman having been appointed a sergeant in the first instance, and at the time of the breaking of the corps held the rank of lieutenant. He was only one of many in this corps, and any connected with the Volunteers having outlying companies, such as were Maiden Bradley and a portion of the 8th Corps at Mere, can understand how much is lost to a battalion by the extinction of officers and men of this sort.
The hunting element was strong in both these corps, more especially in the Maiden Bradley, and had to be considered as regards fixing drills and other matters. Most of the farms were either in or bordering upon the meets of the Blackmoor Vale foxhounds, and at Warminster were the kennels of the South Wilts, the Lieut. Colonel commanding the battalion being the master, so drilling and hunting had to be combined if anything like a muster was desired. Some of the best to attend at the roadside inn on a winter's evening for a two hours' dose of squad or position drill were men who had been in the saddle all day; but the men really liked drill, and considered it as a duty to be present. As an instance of the willingness with which these Wiltshire men attended drills, and of the sort of individuals composing some of the outlying corps, the author offers the following story. It is of course one of many similar ones occurring in the history of the early formation of rifle corps throughout any of the wilder counties of Great Britain. However, it shows the stuff the men were made of, and also perhaps the necessity for tact and temper in the adjutant.
It had been agreed upon between the adjutant and the captain commanding the 6th Corps, that as a certain day was a general holiday, there should be a drill at the head quarters about midday, it appearing this hour was more suitable than any for the majority to attend. The adjutant was to ride over from Warminster and take breakfast, and some water-colouring was to be done between that meal and the time of assembly. As proposed, so carried out, and on the appointed day, a bleak December morning, the adjutant, mounted on his best, started away for the captain's abode, there to find him at breakfast sure enough, but in pink, and evidently intent on hunting instead of drawing or drilling.
"I forgot all about the drill. Bother it, we can't have it. The hounds meet at Knoyle, so we haven't a moment to spare. Every fellow will be there, and you must come." This was the explanation; and the appearing of the adjutant at the meet in uniform being the only substantial objection, it was overcome by borrowing coat, waistcoat, and hat, the uniform long boots and dark pantaloons remaining; albeit the rig-out was none of the neatest or best-fitting, as the captain was a few sizes taller than the adjutant; but it answered its purpose, and throwing goose-step, turnings, wheelings, and odd files to the limbo prepared for such uninteresting articles, the breakfast was hastily swallowed and the two set out for Knoyle.
The Blackmoor Vale is a fine hunting country, and none residing thereabouts, having a bit of horseflesh to call their own, but do a bit of hunting, and as a consequence few of No. 6 Corps were absent. However, nothing was said about the drill, and a fox being found down in the bottom, away we went. Straight riding and a firm seat was wanted, the country selected being heavy, with double ditches and banks, pleasingly interspersed with oak rails, or stakes and bounds. A moment's breathing in the woods of Fonthill, and on again, killing at last almost on the highway leading to Frome.
"This isn't drill, Mr. Jefferys," said the adjutant to one of the best sergeants a volunteer corps ever possessed, as that officer touched him on the back with his hunting whip, whilst the two splashed into the mud making soft the landing from a drop leap.
"Law, no, sir. We've forgotten all about it," was the reply, and in another moment we joined the few in at the death. There were excuses and apologies, and by the time these were done and the fox eaten, Sir R——, the very taciturn master, remounted, and calling off the hounds, proceeded at a sharp trot in an opposite direction. With the view of finding another fox, many of the field followed, and as Sir R—— rode straight, there was more than one obstacle overcome and fall received, observing which, and that they were mistaken in following him, he called out, "Shan't hunt any more to-day. Kennels," and continued his route, whilst all whose homes were elsewhere pulled up somewhat disgusted. The disappointed Englishman had his growl, and as we retraced our steps towards the Frome road Lieutenant Harding proposed "a drill after all, as we are," and with an echo from Captain Festing and the high approval of the adjutant, "Across country to the Bradley Inn" was given, and before half-an-hour had expired, with daylight just sufficient to conceal blundering, some thirty broad-shouldered men in tops and breeches, bespattered with mud, and fall-marks plentiful, fell into the ranks and did an hour's very hard drill. This finished, and remounting, all returned home. It was in consequence of the feeling of national insecurity pervading people's minds at the time, that in October, 1859, an inquiry was sent through the Estate Office to the tenantry and others by Earl St. Maur, eldest son of the Duke of Somerset, whether they would be willing to form a volunteer corps under him for defensive purposes, and if so, who would be willing to join. A favourable response was given, and a number of names sent in as willing to join the "Maiden Bradley Irregulars."