active 1835-1883 Thomas Faughnan

ROUTE TO CANTERBURY—THE MARCH—ARRIVAL—CHATHAM—DOCKYARD—FURLOUGH TO LONDON—THAT GREAT CITY—JOIN MY COMPANY—SHEERNESS—THE DOCKYARD—GET MARRIED—ROUTE TO WEEDON—ROUTE TO IRELAND.

A few days afterwards we got the route for Canterbury. On June 2nd we marched from Chatham up High Street, with the band playing at the head of the regiment. We were accompanied by a large crowd of the townspeople outside the town, who gave us three cheers on parting; we marched ten miles that day, and were billeted in the pretty little village of Greenstreet where the people treated us with the greatest kindness and regard.

Resuming the march at seven o'clock the following morning, we arrived at Canterbury at twelve, where we were met by several of our old acquaintances, who were pleased to see us back again, and accompanied us to the barracks. During our stay here of three months we had easy times, getting sixteen nights in bed, hardly any fatigues, but plenty of drill. On the 5th September, 1849, we marched back again to Chatham, arriving there at 5 p.m. on the 6th, after two days hard marching with a full kit weighing fifty pounds. The march tired many of our men, the weather being very sultry and the roads dusty.

The fortified lines around Chatham are the frequent scenes of military siege-operations, miniature battles, and grand reviews.

In a military point of view the lines of detached forts connecting constitute a fortification of great strength, and the whole is regarded as a perfect flank defence for London in the event of an invader seeking to attack the capital from the south coast; the place is also defended by some strong forts on the Medway.

Near Chatham is Fort Pitt, a military hospital and strong fort, barracks for infantry, marines, artillery and engineers, a park of artillery and magazines, storehouse and depÔt on a large scale. In a naval sense, it is one of the principal royal shipbuilding establishments in Great Britain, and a visit to it never fails to impress the stranger with a sense of the naval power of the country. The dock-yard is nearly two miles in length, containing several building-slips and wet docks sufficiently capacious for the largest ships, and the whole is traversed in every direction by a tramway for locomotives. There are on an average, 3,500 shipwrights, caulkers, joiners, sawyers, mill-wrights, sail-makers, rope-makers, riggers and labourers, with 5,000 soldiers, sailors and marines, making it lively for public-houses and saloons, which are always crowded with soldiers and sailors in the evenings.

About the middle of December, I applied to the captain of my company for a furlough; having no offence against me since joining, he had no trouble in getting it granted. I had saved most of my pay since I joined, and now had sufficient funds, with the amount allowed me from the captain in advance, to bear my expenses during my absence from the regiment; and as all my near relatives in Leitrim were either dead or had emigrated to America, I had no particular place to spend my furlough, and being stationed so near London, I made up my mind to visit that great city, and avail myself of the opportunity of visiting once more at my leisure some of the principal places of note and amusement. My furlough was dated from 16th December, and expired 16th January. I left the Sun Pier at Chatham, by a penny steamboat to Stroud Station, thence by rail to Gravesend, and boat to Blackwall; from there by rail to Fenchurch, where I took an omnibus to Cambden-Hill-Villa, Kensington, where I stayed on invitation with a friend during my sojourn in London. During my ride through the city on the outside of the omnibus, I had a splendid view of the perfect labyrinth of streets and squares, warehouses and stores, churches and palaces, which I strongly recommend all strangers in London to see. Here I am riding through the vast metropolis of England, where nearly four millions of people of all classes, grades, and conditions, find a home; a city that covers eighty thousand acres of ground; where is consumed fifty-five million gallons of beer and porter, with three million gallons of ardent spirits, annually poured out to satisfy unnatural and voracious appetites. It takes thirty thousand tailors to make their clothes, forty thousand shoemakers to take care of their feet, and fifty thousand milliners and dressmakers to attend to the ladies' dresses; here an army of twenty-five thousand servants are daily employed, and the smoke of the coal-fires darkens the country for more than twenty miles around. The splendour of the magnificent buildings and shops, carriages, cabs, omnibuses, and vehicles of every description, with crowds of pedestrians, impressed me with surprise beyond my powers of description. I got off at Silver Street after paying the conductor six-pence for my fare, and walked to my friend's house, where I was received in a most cordial manner. During my stay in London I visited many of the principal places of interest in the city, among which were the following, viz.: St. James' Palace, an irregular cluster of buildings used for court purposes, but not as the Queen's residence; Buckingham Palace, the Queen's London residence, a large quadrangular building; Marlborough House, now the residence of the Prince of Wales; Kensington Palace and Gardens; Houses of Parliament, a vast structure which has cost £3,000,000, perhaps the finest building in the world applied to national purposes—the river front is 900 feet long; Westminster Hall, a noble old structure, of which the main hall is 290 feet by 68, and 110 feet high; the Horse Guards, the official residence of the Commander-in-Chief, with an arched entrance to St. James' Park, where under the arches on each side are two noble specimens of mounted sentries; the National Gallery devoted to a portion of the nation's pictures, in Trafalgar Square; South Kensington Museum; the Guards Barracks, Chelsea; the General Post Office, which has a hall 80 feet by 60, and 53 high, with a vast number of offices all around it.

Of public columns and statues the chief which interested me and took my attention were the following:—Nelson's Column, Trafalgar Square; and York Column, Waterloo Steps.[1]

Of the public parks in the Metropolis, the most important are Hyde Park, St. James' Park, the Green Park, Regent's Park, Victoria Park, Kensington Park—all belong to the nation, and are, of course, out of the builders' hands. They are most valuable as "lungs" and breathing places for great London.

The Zoological Gardens, Horticultural Gardens, and Botanic Gardens are beautiful places, belonging to private societies. Of places of amusements, there are three opera houses, about thirty theatres, twelve music halls and concert rooms of large dimensions (including Albert Hall), a much larger number of smaller size, and very numerous exhibition rooms of various kinds, including Madame Tussaud's exhibition of wax figures, in Baker Street; these greatly interested and amused me.

I must not forget my leave is nearly up; my furlough expires to-morrow night at tattoo. Also, I am sorry I cannot stay longer, time seems so short and flies so fast in this great city, but as a soldier I must never forget my duty.

After bidding my friend good-bye, and thanking him kindly for his generous hospitality, I started back to join my regiment at Chatham, by the same route I had come, arriving in barracks at tattoo, January 16th, and duly reporting myself.

Whilst I had been on leave, my company (the grenadiers) were under orders for detachment at Sheerness. Accordingly we embarked at the Sun Pier, and proceeded down the Medway, by steamer, on the 8th February, arriving at our destination at two p.m., commanded by Captain L. G. Bourchier, and were stationed in the same barracks as the 72nd Highlanders, whose pipers kept playing and droning from reveillÉ till tattoo. This is also another of England's Royal ship-building establishments; there are nearly two thousand artisans and labourers employed daily in the dockyard. The streets, public houses, and concert rooms are continually, unfortunately, crowded with sailors, soldiers, marines, and dockyard hands, every evening; and not unfrequently a bar-room row takes place between the soldiers and sailors; on one occasion I saw two of our tallest and ablest grenadiers peel off their coats and clean out a whole tap-room of sailors, and that with their English fists.

On our last visit to Canterbury, what did I do but, like an Irishman, fall in love. I made the acquaintance of a Kentish beauty and promised to marry her, with the understanding that I got the commanding officer's sanction in order to carry out this promise, after our company had been here about a month, I applied to the colonel, of course through the captain of my company, for leave to get married, which was granted, through the strong recommendation and influence of my captain; for my readers must know that it is only a very small proportion of soldiers (six to each company), and those only of the best character and highly recommended, can get leave to marry; or if they marry without leave, they have no claim to participate in any of the advantages and privileges attached to the soldier who marries with leave—such as quarters in barracks and on foreign stations, "rations." Having received the commanding officer's permission, I was married, on the 3rd of April, 1850, at Minster, in the Isle of Sheppy, Kent. My wife then was placed on the strength of the regiment from that date. Now my happiness was complete. I was struck out of the barrack-room messing, and my wife and I became truly happy together. Instead of walking down the town with my comrades, I walked out with my wife in the evening on the ramparts in the rear of our quarters, and gazed in wonder at the massive fortifications and guns which encircled our barracks. Here we could hear the soft strains of exquisite music from the various military bands of marines, or the regiments in garrison, or, more frequently, the pipers of the 72nd Highlanders, or the sound of the evening gun re-echo over the surface of the waters from the flag-ship which rode so majestically at anchor in the distant roadsteads, with the sun sinking into an ocean of fire, and the white sails of the fishing smacks glistening in the setting sun. We had been for some time fearing to be relieved from this delightful station; at length the long expected order came. The rumours which had been for some time gathering strength as to our destination were discovered to have had a better foundation than many which in general floated indefinitely about our barracks, on the subject of which no one ever could discover their origin, for, you must know, soldiers are great gossipers.

Our orders are for Weedon, a small town in Northamptonshire, on the River Nene. In three days we were to embark on board a steamer for London, thence by rail. We were all rather sorry for leaving the present station, although soldiers always like fresh scenery, and always play, when they leave, "The Girl I left Behind Me."

We embarked on the 18th of May, accompanied by the band, pipes, and several men, of the 72nd Highlanders to the wharf, the band playing "Auld Lang Syne" as our steamer moved off from the dock, the men cheering and waving their handkerchiefs, which we responded to in a most friendly manner. We were all very happy, though we were rather closely packed together—a circumstance generally considered dangerous to a good fellowship. The vessel was a small one, and being of rather ancient build did not boast all those conveniences that the new steamers possess. The voyage was a short one; the river being very smooth; the trip was pleasant, although it was somewhat inconvenient for the women and children, who were huddled up very close together. We were lucky that the weather was so fine, therefore we had not the unpleasantness of sea sickness.

As we neared London, steamers and vessels of nearly every size became more numerous; and the buzz of industry from the shore, with the whistling of small steamers, the splashing of wheels, the clouds of smoke, impressed us with the wondrous amount of traffic carried on through this mighty highway of commerce.

We reached Blackwall at one o'clock, and marched to Euston Station, the women and children being sent in cabs, where we took the train at three p.m., arriving at Weedon at 5 p.m., marched into barracks and joined head-quarters which had been there before us. About this time Colonel Styte got command of the regiment, an old Waterloo officer of great skill in military details. The Town of Weedon, which is situated in the centre of a wide and rich valley in one of the most beautiful counties in England, was declared by all our soldiers, without one dissentient voice, to be an exceedingly dull, stupid place. Not having much duty to perform in this quiet garrison, we were kept continually at drill; in the evenings the men had nothing to occupy their spare time except to assemble in the public houses or canteen, and on Sunday, after church, to walk out of town to a certain country tavern where they unfortunately used to indulge in drinking and carousing. In the days in which I write, those who entertained the idea of educating soldiers were laughed at as visionary enthusiasts, whose schemes, if put into practice, would entirely ruin and destroy the military spirit of the army; and few there were among the commanding officers of regiments who possessed moral courage enough to combat the general opinion, even if they differed from the principle. Colonel Styte, however, the lieutenant-colonel of the 17th regiment of "Royal Tigers," was happily endowed with moral courage in equal degree with his gallantry in the field, which secured for him his present high position, and an honesty of mind and purpose he possessed that was not usual with officers of his time. He had received a wound at the Battle of Waterloo in his right arm, which entirely disabled it, and it hung down by his side quite powerless. Not being able to draw his sword, we had great sympathy for him, which he appreciated very much. He had established an evening school for the drummer boys of the regiment, and for such of the non-commissioned officers and privates as chose to avail themselves of its advantage. The colonel and a few of his brother officers raised a subscription in order to provide the necessary books, and a school was established and well attended, with most excellent results—valued by many of the best disposed non-commissioned officers and men, and worked exceedingly well. Regarding the drummer boys, their attendance was compulsory. The teacher was a very gentlemanly, able man, and imparted his instructions in a very painstaking manner, which caused many of the young soldiers to attend his school willingly, and try to advance themselves by his instructions.

Nothing in the regiment gave me more pleasure than attending, and the progress I made during our term served to advance my prospects of promotion in after years, which I most gratefully remember.

We were stationed in this quiet town for three months when we got orders to proceed to Castlebar, a town in the west of Ireland, and about one hundred and sixty miles from Dublin.

[1] The Albert Memorial, Hyde Park, has been erected since.