INTERVIEW WITH THE EMPRESS EUGENIE

I remember being the sergeant in charge of the guard at Holyrood Palace at the time when the Empress Eugenie was on a visit to Scotland. The French Fleet accompanied her to Scotland, and lay in the Firth of Forth.

The crews of the ships comprised some fine sailors, who, I think, were the smartest lot I ever saw. The Empress and her Court stayed a full week in Edinburgh. I remember one eventful day when a party of two ladies and four gentlemen, after inspecting Queen Mary's Room, and the old picture gallery in Holyrood Palace, pa.s.sed into the guard-room where I was in command. The ladies advanced towards me, bidding me "Good afternoon." The gentlemen remained behind. In the best way I could under the circ.u.mstances I asked the two ladies to be good enough to take a seat, apologising for the rude seat which was all I could offer them. They courteously accepted the seat, and, at the older lady's request, I sat down beside them. The talking was confined to one of the ladies, who seemed, I thought at the time, of a very inquisitive nature. In the first place she expressed her wish to know something about the British soldier-how he was fed, whether he was well-clothed, what kind of rations he was provided with, &c. I gave her my opinion on these points as far as I could go. She then asked how long I had been a soldier, and I said only a short time. "Then you cannot tell how you feel when your comrades are being slain on the battle-field?" "No, ma'am, I cannot; but there is a man lying down on the guard-bed who can. He went through the Crimean War." I then advanced to the old soldier's bed, and said, "Francis, there's a lady here wants to know how you feel when you are on the battle-field." "Tell her," said Francis, without looking up, "we see nowt but h.e.l.l-fire and smoke!" "Well, what does he say?" asked the inquiring lady, who had, fortunately, remained in the background. It would not, of course, have done for me to give the answer as it stood, so I replied, "He says, madam, that he can see nothing but fire and smoke." "Well,"

said the lady preparing to depart, "you seem to be well clothed and to have plenty to eat." As I was showing her out of the room, she said, "If I were to give you a Scottish pound note, would you share it amongst you and your fellows?" "Yes, ma'am" said I, "when we have dismissed guard."

Whereupon she placed the note in my hand, and I thanked her cordially. I had not the slightest idea who the donor of the note was, or who were the people who had been our guard-room guests, until the next day. We were then relieved from guard by the 78th Highlanders, who were only about 300 strong, and had just returned from the Indian Mutiny. It was while upon the esplanade, where there were a thousand of the Waterloo and Peninsular pensioners a.s.sembled for drilling, that I noticed my lady guest and a gentleman reviewing the veterans. They were walking up and down the ranks, and every now and again the lady stopped before an old soldier, spoke to him, and, before pa.s.sing on, put into his hand a Scottish pound note. It was said that during the week she presented no less than a thousand of these notes to the soldiers. One old hero, I saw, got five pound notes. I asked the captain of the guard who the lady was. He seemed much surprised when I a.s.sured him that I did not know who she was; but greater was my surprise on being told that the lady was the Empress of the French.

ADIEU! EDINBURGH-A DISAPPOINTMENT

Orders were issued for our regiment to remove to the ancient town of Ayr-news which delighted me greatly. Next day the regiment, numbering about a thousand men, mustered for the last time in Edinburgh. The inhabitants of Auld Reekie turned out in their thousands to see us march to the railway station and to bid us adieu. The regimental band-which, by-the-bye, included many able musicians from the West Riding of Yorkshire; Wilsden, Haworth and Cowling being among the towns furnishing the band men-played lively airs during our march to the station, such as "Good-bye, sweetheart!" and "The girl I left behind me." At the station I met a sore disappointment. Since the issuing of the orders of removal to Ayr, I had been buoyantly thinking of what happy times I should have in Ayr, and my feelings can be imagined when I found I was among the detachment which was to be sent on to the barracks at Hamilton-a small town on the Clyde about ten miles from Glasgow. However, I determined to make the best of the matter, and hope for better times. The two companies forming the detachment, numbering about a couple of hundred men, reached Hamilton all right. Within a short distance of Hamilton, is Bothwell and its famous Castle; and during my stay in the locality I paid frequent visits to Bothwell Castle and Bothwell Bridge, at which latter place Sir William Wallace defeated the English in battle. I also visited the magnificent residence of the Duke of Hamilton.

IN CHARGE OF DEFAULTERS

I remember that on the first evening of our arrival in Hamilton I had under me twenty or thirty soldiers, who were on the defaulters' list in consequence of being absent from barracks the night previous to our leaving Edinburgh. They had to all intents and purposes been out in the city bidding their acquaintances good-bye, and had taken too long a time over it. For this misdemeanour they were confined to barracks at Hamilton. I a.s.sembled the men in front of the officer's quarters, and said, "This is our first evening here and a grand evening it is. I should very much like to visit the town, and I have no doubt that you would.

Now, I have a proposal to make if you will all stand by me."-"We will,"

they shouted in one voice. "I propose," I continued, "to see the captain, and if you will promise that during your stay in Hamilton you will not commit yourselves, I will try to get you dismissed from defaulters'

drill, so that you can go out and enjoy yourselves." They readily expressed their willingness to carry out the promise. I then made for the officers' room, and was admitted into the captain's presence. "Well, what is your wish this evening?" he inquired. "A great favour, captain," I replied, "not only for myself but for those men outside. There are over a score defaulters, and they wish to speak a word with you." "Where are they?" said the captain. So I brought him outside before the men. He heard their case stated, and then asked, "Do you all promise that if I dismiss you from pack drill you will not misbehave yourselves during your short stay in this town?" Of course the promise was promptly given; but promises, like pie crusts, are easily broken. Well, every one of the defaulters was dismissed, and sent to his own quarters. They then went out of the barracks and had a pleasant look round the town.

A DESPERATE AFFRAY WITH THE POLICE

All went wisely and well for three weeks, at the end of which period there was a desperate affray between the soldiers and the police. It came about in this way. One of the soldiers while strolling on the banks of the Clyde one Sat.u.r.day night appeared to have insulted a lady. She gave information to the police, who next (Sunday) morning, accompanied by the informant, came in full force to the barracks. We had just fallen in for church parade. The ranks were opened, and the lady pa.s.sed among us to see if she could identify the guilty man. Eventually, she pitched upon a man whom all of us knew could not have been at the place mentioned at the time given by the lady. However, despite his protestations of innocence, he was handcuffed, and was about to be marched away by a sergeant of the police when one of the prisoner's comrades interfered. He did so to a nicety, for he knocked the policeman down. Then another policeman went to the ground, and another, until the whole parade was one scene of commotion. The police were badly worsted, many of them being more or less seriously injured in the _melee_. Reinforcements were summoned, and many arrests were made by the representatives of the civil power. The barracks' officers had no control over their men, and two companies of Highlanders were sent for to take the place of our regiment at Hamilton and to escort to Edinburgh Castle those of us who had taken part in disturbance. At the Castle the men were confined to barracks for a fortnight to give the police time to work up their "case" for the court-martial, and in order to see how the wounded policemen, who were being treated in the hospital progressed.

I WAS OUT OF THE FRAY

I happened to be escorting two men from the hospital to the parade when the outbreak occurred. I was conversing with the regimental doctor, and took advantage of that circ.u.mstance to get that gentleman to make me a certificate testifying that I was not "in at the death." However, I was sent for examination with the lot, but I pa.s.sed through the ordeal successfully, the doctor's certificate undoubtedly freeing me. I may here mention that I have not been a believer in physiognomy since then; for if a man had a rough-looking or repulsive countenance he was as surely ordered to "fall out," and many men were so taken prisoners whom I knew were innocent. In all about fifty were placed under arrest, and taken before the Lord Provost of Edinburgh, who sentenced them to gaol for terms varying from one to eighteen months.

CHAPTER XI

IN THE LAND OF BURNS

The incident mentioned in the last chapter ended in all the men who were not committed to prison being released and sent on to head-quarters at Ayr-

Auld Ayr, wham ne'er a toon surpa.s.ses, For honest men and bonnie la.s.ses.

I was among the "removals," and high were my spirits at the prospect of a sojourn in the hallowed land of Burns. To use a well-turned phrase, it had been the height of my ambition to reach the birth-place of a genius second to none in his way-Bobby Burns, the patriotic bard and ploughboy.

For twelve months I stayed in the quaint old town. Scores of times did I visit the cottage where the world-famous poet was born. It was a lowly thatched clay biggin; with two rooms on one floor, and at this time was being used as a public tavern. The building belonged, I believe, to the Shoemakers' Society of Scotland, and scarcely anything but the native whiskey and bottled beer was dispensed at the house. The first room on entering was utilised for cooking purposes, and contained a big kettle-for boiling water, I was told, (whether in good or bad faith) on occasion of extra demand for "whuskey". The farther room served as the parlour, and contained a large oblong table, seated with cane-bottomed chairs. The mud walls of the room had been boarded over, and the roof under-drawn, so that an air of comfort was imparted. In almost every nook of this room were to be seen the initials and names of visitors cut into the wood, and the places appended to some of the names indicated foreign visitors. The walls were completely filled with these "carvings" and writings. I more than once looked round for a little s.p.a.ce to put Bill o'

th' Hoylus End's initials, but to no purpose-every available inch was taken up with those of my predecessors. A portrait in oils of Burns, said to have been done by Allan Cunningham, one of the bard's friends, occupied a prominent place in the room. This picture, in keeping with the general appearance of the room, was covered with initials and names. A few minutes' walk from the cottage, and situated on a slight eminence commanding a fine view, stands the Burns' Monument, a beautiful Grecian edifice. In the surrounding grounds-which are handsomely laid out-is a little building which contains Thom's statues of "Tam o' Shanter and Souter Johnny." The Auld Brig o' Doon and Alloway Kirk are not far away.

On ascending the steps leading into the churchyard the first grave is that of the poet's father, William Burns. An epitaph in the tombstone, written by Bobby Burns, reads:-

Here lies an honest man at rest, As e'er G.o.d with His image blest; The friend of man, the friend of truth, The guide of age, the guide of youth.

Few hearts like his in virtue warmed; Few heads with knowledge so informed:- If there be another world, he lives in bliss, If there be none, he made the best of this.

Going further into the old kirkyard, one sees the graves of many of the bard's friends, whom he has immortalised in verse. At the farther end, close to the river Doon, stands the ancient kirk-

Wi' its winnock bunker i' the east, Where sat old Nick i' shape o' beast.

Perhaps this old fane has been made more of in poetry by Burns than anything else. It is inspected by thousands of travellers who visit Ayr.

BURNS' CELEBRATION

While in Ayr, I remember there was a great demonstration to honour the memory of the national poet. The gathering was held at the Corn Exchange, and the large hall was densely packed. Among an influential company was Sir James Fergusson, M.P., late Post-master General. Various patriotic speeches were delivered, and at one stage, I mind, the meeting was put into great good humour by the action of an elderly gentleman on the platform. Stepping to the front he said "I believe I am the only man in Scotland to-day that ever shook hands with Bobby Burns. He was then-over seventy years ago-an excise man at Dumfries, and I acted as his post-boy, taking his letters." These remarks had scarcely been made than several of the people came forward and grasped the old fellow by the hand, and, indeed, some all but hugged him. I was prompted to shake hands with the "living memorial."

And well old Scotland may be proud To hear her Burns proclaimed aloud, For to her sons the world hath bowed, Through Burns's name- All races of the world are proud of Burns's fame.

THE PEOPLE OF AYR

I found to be of a very genial and sociable disposition. Their dialect is exceedingly pleasing-a good deal more so than that of many other parts of Scotland; shires and district vary in dialect quite after the manner of our own localities and counties. I made many friends in Ayr, among them being John McKelvey (who, with his daughter, Tina, kept an old tavern at the end of the quay at Ayr), and Billy Miller (of the "Thistle"), another celebrity in his way. Both these were poets, or, perhaps I should say, rhymesters; and whatever the old wives of the present day may think about the poet, of this I can a.s.sure them-that in those days "the la.s.sies loved him weel i' bonnie Scotland." But to get to my military reminiscences.

A FREE FIGHT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES

With the exception of one "hitch"-and perhaps that was enough-I pa.s.sed my time very pleasantly at Ayr Barracks. The incident came about in this way. I was out in the "toon" with the orderly-room clerk, Sergeant Delaney, the money both of us had in our pockets sufficing to put us into high spirits. In our travels we came across a menagerie of wild beasts-Manders', I think it was-and I was not long in observing that the members of the band which was "going it" in front of the show were all men from the Keighley district. The leader of the band, Dawson Hopkinson, was a Haworth man, and his remains lie in Haworth Churchyard, a bugle being engraved on the stone over the grave. Hopkinson had been the landlord of the Golden Lion Inn, at Keighley, previous to travelling with the menagerie. Other members of the band were Bobby Hartley, of Keighley, and another named Joe Briggs; two from Silsden, and one from Wilsden, all of whom were well known at the time as able musicians. I felt in great glee at meeting with these old friends, and marched boldly on the platform to greet them. The result of my visit was that I invited the whole of the band to come and have a drink at the Grossmarket Hotel down the street. When they had played another tune they "struck" and in a body followed me to the hotel; and over gla.s.ses of "guid auld Scotch" we told tales of old Keighley until it really seemed that old times had come again. In chatting over some of the eccentric characters, we had many a laugh about Three Laps and Job Senior. But the time was flitting by fast, and my musical guests, it appeared, had not left word at the menagerie where they were going. Thus there was some justification for the line of action which the lady of the show had adopted in rushing into the room and demanding "why her band had given over playing and left the stage."

But the bandsmen had supped, perhaps too freely and too well, and consequently they were not able to give a clear answer to her question.

Right into the tavern we could hear the growling of the lions, the howling of the wolves, and the squeaking of the monkeys; and yet, forsooth! the bandsmen could afford to laugh at the noises. Delaney and I, despite that we were all out as far "gone" as the rest, saw there was going to be a storm if we did not bestir ourselves; so we set about coaxing the musicians to return to their legitimate duties. After much ado we induced them to quit the tavern, and Delaney and I followed suit, and started for the barracks. "Just for safety's sake" we went arm in arm, and as we pa.s.sed down the long main street we sang and carried on like the proverbial jolly tars. Things went moderately well with us until we got to a picture shop. Here was a large painting showing General Garibaldi mounted on a white horse; and no sooner did Delaney catch a glimpse of the picture than he drew his sword and with it smashed the window, his intention being to wreak his vengeance upon the offensive canvas.

IN THE HANDS OF THE POLICE

We were both of us now in a fine mess, and no mistake about it. I stood dumbfounded for about a minute, and before I had time to give my thoughts to deciding what we should do, two big, brawny Scottish policemen had come up from behind and seized Delaney tightly by the arms and deprived him of his sword. They straightway marched their prisoner in the direction of the Town Hall, I following at their heels and expostulating with them, taking up the line of argument that if they only would let John go I would advance the money for the broken window. But the Scottish policemen-like their Keighley comrades, I suppose, would do-held their prisoner firmly, and the only heed they paid to my entreaty was in the shape of a threat-"Gin ye say mich mair ye'll hae ta gang along wi' us."