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THE JOURNAL OF THE ROYAL DRAGOONS THE JOURNAL OF THE ROYAL DRAGOONS
bridge.) Prince Francis, or just “ The Prince,” as he was called by everyone in Ireland, was a fine, good—looking man, very popular with all classes; he was very fond of hunting and went well to hounds. He enjoyed going racing, too, and unfortunately it was through this pastime that his life with the Regiment in Ireland came to rather an abrupt termination. This owed its origin to a three~day meeting on The Curragh at the end of June 1895. On Tuesday the 25th, a two-year—old, “ Bellevin,” won the Waterford Testimonial Stakes in a canter. On Wednesday, the two-year-old “ Winkfields Pride ” started favourite at five to four in the Nursery Plate, but was easily beaten into 3rd place by ten lengths. On Thursday, “ Bellevin ” and “ Winkfields Pride ” met in the Stewards’ Plate, when it was considered to be practically a walk-over for “ Bellevin,” who started at ten to one on, with “ Winkfields Pride” ten to one against—four runners. Prince Francis had been rather out of luck recently and was persuaded by his friends to back “ Bellevin ” in thousands and get square. In an evil hour he did this and lost ,C 10,000 on the race, as the favourite was comfortably beaten by 1:: lengths ‘by “ Winkfields Pride.” This bet, and the loss of it, naturally created quite a sensation as soon as it became known. The form was distinctly suspect and the running of the horses was considered by many to be a ramp. The Ring were inclined to call the bet off, but as was pointed out, the brother of the future Queen of England could not be let off a‘debt of honour in this way. The Teck family was not well off, but it was said that “ The Prince” had been left some money by his grandmother, the old Duchess of Cambridge, and that Queen Victoria herself came to his assistance. However, the immediate upshot of this whole business was that he left Ireland and was appointed A.D.C. to Major-General Galbraith, G.O.C. Quetta District on the Indian Frontier. He joined the Egyptian Cavalry in 1897 and saw service there at the Atbara and Omdurman, winning the D.S.O. He joined the Remount establishment in Dublin in 1899 and went with that branch of the service to South Africa. He returned to England in 1900, but went out again in 1902 and joined the Regiment for a few days only; he went home for the Coronation and then sent in his papers, much to everyone’s regret. He died young in 1910. I took rather an interest in the horse “ Bellevin” because he had two little horns on his forehead. When I joined I had said in the Mess that when I had visited a Government Haras in Normandy, I had seen two stallions with these
horns; I was accused of romancing, but now I was acquitted owing to concrete evidence. Anyone who might be still sceptical has only to go to the Natural History Museum, South Ken— sington, and ask to see the two skulls there, with the same excrescences. We spent three wonderful years in Dublin, hunting during the winter with the Meath and Ki‘ldare with an occasional gallop with the Ward Union Staghounds. We were allowed to go out with the Ward for a short day even when we were acting as Orderly Officer, our theory being that a really good regiment shoudd be able to carry on by itself for a while under the R.S.M. We played polo on the 15 acres and the nine acres in the Phoenix Park, and we collected and trained some very good ponies. My pony “ Syren,” which I had bought from a man who brought it into barracks as a raw four-year—old, turned out absolutely first class. Mrs. E. D. Miller, the widow of Ted Miller, to whom I sold the pony later, wrote to me through a mutual friend that her husband always said that “ Syren ” was the best pony he ever rode, which probably means that it was the best pony that ever existed, as he only bought the very best for Capt. Walter Jones, giving up to £750 for them. I was away from Dublin for a great deal of the winter 1893—94, as I went for a trip to India for my long leave from 6th December to the end of February, but that forms a story in itself, apart from my regimental reminiscences. Suflice it to say here that I had a most enjoyable and interesting time. After spending Christmas with a married ‘sister at Neemuch, I went on to stay with H.H. Sir Pertab Singh at Johdpore for some wonderful pig-sticking. On to Peshawar to go through the Khyber Pass up to Landi Kotal—then back right across North India, via Lahore, Delhi, Agra, Lucknow, Benares to Ca1cutta. From there I went up to Darjeeling to see the grandest View in the world of the dawn breaking over the Himalayas, with Kinchinjunga in the immediate foreground and the peak of Everest in the distance. Then home via Bombay, where the Governor and his wife, Lord and Lady Harris, put me up and mounted me for a couple of good days with the Bombay Hounds. C01. Frank Rhodes of The Royals had been Military Secretary to Lord Harris, but had just left him to join the expedition to Uganda, led by Sir Gerald Portal, with his brother Raymond and Major Roddy Owen (a well known G.R. and winner of the Grand National). Few people realise that the Owen Falls on the Upper Nile are named after him.
School, which was very cold in winter with its carpet of damp tan. One Sunday a young
Dundalk Owing to an outbreak of enteric fever in our insanitary barracks of Island Bridge, the Regiment left Dublin in February 1896, and went to the Curragh where we lived in the old wooden huts with the horses in the sheds in Donelly’s Hollow. After the training season we marched to Dundalk, via Dublin and Drogheda—with “ C ” Squadron at Belfast. Dundalk was a typical dirty uninteresting town on the Dunleer-Newry road—with a long branch road leading eastwards to the Barracks—— with the Bay of Dundalk a little way beyond. The Barracks were typically Irish—old and tumbledown. The feature of the station was the bay, where the tide went out a long way and on which we drilled and trained polo ponies; it formed a safe background for the ranges on which we did our musketry. Part of the shore provided us with sport, and we used to go at early dawn and in the evening to shoot at flighting duck. We got to know a great deal about sea birds, as almost every known species seemed to frequent the bay at some time or another. I shot a bird on a bog nearby which, when I took it back to the Mess, our ornithologist, Major Rogers, seized from me to send to the taxidermist in Dame Street, Dublin, to be stuffed, as it was a spotted crake—a somewhat rare species. We hunted with the Louth, whose old Master was McCartney Filgate, but always tried to get two days a week with the MeaL‘h under John Watson, in their North Country. We also had our own pack of Harriers—so called as the hare was the proper quarry, but many a Louth fox was hunted as well, and towards the end of the season we borrowed a couple of deer from the County Down Staghounds. Capt. A. Hamilton Russell was M.H., with
Lord Charles
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Fitz-
maurice and Lt. A. C. Calvert as whips. We made a very good polo ground in Lord Roden’s demesne and had some first-class ponies. I took our team, consisting of Capt. Hamilton— Russell, Lts. York, Leighton and myself round the North of Ireland, and played Belfast, whom we defeated ; then Londonderry, who defeated us, though we had our revenge later on our own ground. We then played Enniskillen and defeated a strong team consisting of Jack Porter, Anthony Maude, Edward Archdale and D’Arcy Irvine, but we were better mounted. There was an incident on a Sunday morning which I have never forgotten. There was no church near at hand, so we used the Riding
parson, I do not think he was a C.F., came to take the service, and, believe it or not, he took his text from St. Luke vii, 14: “And he came and touched the bier.” Now these two monosylflabic words bier and beer, though absolutely assonant, have very different meanings, and can only be distinguished by the context. To the many old soldiers, especially the habitués of the Wet Canteen, the spoken word had only one meaning, which described the great national drink. The parson, as so many of that fraternity do, kept repeating the text in his discourse, saying: “ And he came and touched the bier. Now I ask you, Why did he touch the bier? ” We feared at one time that some old warrior might answer that it was because it was a hot and thirsty day. Luckily they kept silent, though there were many curious sounds, which one hoped might be taken for coughs but were really suppressed guffaws. But the spirit of discipline with, no doubt, the feeling that it was a church service, just, but only just, managed to save the situation. Everyone was greatly relieved to hear his closing words, but apparently the simple young man never tumbled to the ribald construction that a lot of old soldiers—and the average age of whom was far more than it is to-day—might put upon his text. At one period we used to occupy ourselves on a Sunday afternoon with chasing a badger which I had bought from a local Irishman, who had brought it into Barracks. I kept it in the old unused racquet court. We let it loose just outside barracks, and after a while laid on a couple of spaniels which one of the officers owned. Luckily there were no holes for it to get into, and it nearly always went about two miles before lying up in a hedge; then after a good breather it went for another mile or so, when we put it into a bag and took it home. Eventually it escaped out of the racquet court—I suspected some playboy let it out—and it was never seen again. There were several holes dug by it in barracks, but I hope it got clear away somehow into the open country; anyhow, it solved the difficulty of what to do with it when we did not want it any longer. Our year at Dundalk passed very swiftly— and we left Ireland after only four years instead of the usual six. We went back to England to take part in the Diamond Jubilee celebration of Queen Victoria, and were quartered at Hounslow, with a squadron at Hampton Court, where we remained till we went off to the South African War.